tomboys and troublemakers part 2: road to couronne

[bramblefoot]

the party staggers out into the sun and collapses, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the feel of the grass against your fingers. the sound of birds singing fills your ears, and you hear the marines hustle over, saying "you guys alright? It's been about two days since we last heard from you"

what are all of you doing?

[wilphe]

Wighard stumbles a few times on the way up but bursts into the sunlight and feels the sun's warmth on his tired body.

Then he realises part of that warmth is the blood dripping from a scalp wound.

Carry the lady to the fire please, I need to get some warmth back in my hands before I do anything

He will try and get some feeling back, whilst supervising Siobhan doing the prep.

He throws a few brown grounds into some hot water and then drinks it down in as close to one go as he can manage, grimacing as he does so.

Once this is done I will crash hard, so be ready

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d100)[86] 61 Heal

Offsetting one level of fatigue with that kaffee thing from Tilea people are going nuts over

[LarsWester]

Gimgroth emerges with bruises and scrapes. He squints at the sun. Two days. That can't be right but that might explain my thirst. This way with Lady Jasmine. Gimgroth readies a place on the ground near the fire for the halfling as Wighard takes a drink of a brown steaming draught. The dwarf notices the good doctor's hand shaking a bit. He tries to help Wighard see to the halflings wounds but more likely just gets in the way.

Spoiler: OOC

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Going to roll heal on the outside chance Gimgroth can help. HealVs28 - (1d100)[75] Wounds - (1d10)[6]

[MrAbdiel]

“Two days…”

The time did not sound right at all. Was this the work of that monsterous magic? Or the fog? Did the mists swallow days as a price of admission?

With Jasmine safe in Wighard’s care, Bertelis slumps to his knees and breathes, before looking up to the inquiring marine.

“We’ve escaped much in tact, but not with much room to spare. Two days… has the throne been broken apart into shares, and everything packed for the return trip, via Westvein..?”

[farothel]

This was one of the reasons the empire didn't like magic, Bruno thought. All these weird things that happened. Well, there was little that could be done about it now. He doesn't know anything about healing, so there's little he can do there but making sure the doctor has all the supplies he needs and Jasmine is comfortable. And help Bertelis with the marines.

[dojango]

Jasmine doesn't say much as the two 'doctors' prod at her wounds, mostly because she was trying to bite through a stick at the time. Afterwards, a thoughtful marine slips a flask of something foul-smelling and strong into her good hand and after a few swigs she manages to fall asleep, despite the pain. She wakes up a few hours later in her bedroll in the marine's camp, her injured arm tightly bound to her side. One of the sergeants laughs and says to her, "You took that blow like a marine kid, but you gotta learn to move yer feet. Once you get back up I'll show ya a coupla tricks, best not to let the bastards hit ya, and best to hit them first!"

[bramblefoot]

"of course sir" the marine says. "it's all packed on those two ships for transport back to altdorf"

wighard: jasmine is stable, but for how long you can't be certain.

is there anything else you wish to do before the return journey

[wilphe]

After failing to help Jasmine Wighard will borrow a few swigs of rotgut spirit off the marines and collapse by a fire; trusting Siobhan to clear up and asking her to have ingredients for a poultice ready in the morning

On waking, he will take another look at her arm

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d100)[47] Heal 71
(1d10)[6]

[bramblefoot]

siobhan has gotten the ingredients for a poultice ready, and helps you with the application of it on jasmine

[wilphe]

Wighard still doesn't feel better until he has some breakfast inside him - even if it is hardtack and few sausages.

Well we probably didn't kill his Lordship, but we have set him back quite a bit and he can go join our list of recurring enemies.

We got anything else to do here or can we return to civilisation?

[LarsWester]

Our foes keep evading us lately. Do you think this has anything to do with your recent upshot in the magical school Wighard. Any chance a new rival has brought the attention of some foul force to curse our luck? Gimgroth says in between sausages. I was there and can state that there were quite a few with a sour disposition towards you and your appointment. Gimgroth pulls out six marbles and shows them to the scholar of arcane arts. Glod and I recovered these from that accursed place. Any idea what their purpose might be?

[Morovir]

Glod groans as he finally catches up with them, sinking to the ground in exhaustion. He had not navigated the stairs successfully on their way out, and had a newly-bruised pair of shins for his trouble. And inside the tomb... The less said about that infernal place, the better. He had had enough time to sweep the sword and the bones of the fallen Borri Greybeard into a sack before they had made their escape - it had slowed him down, and almost certainly was the reason why he had stumbled during their escape, but he could not have simply left them there in such a place of darkness.

"I got what we came for, at least. Hopefully, with time, effort and the grace of the ancestors, Borri Greybeard can rest easy, knowing that his remains have been laid to rest in a more... amiable location. If I return them to the embassy in Altdorf, I am certain that they can make the arrangements. It's no less than he deserves."

[MrAbdiel]

After a disoriented while, Bertelis is up; and much closer to himself than he has previously been. He checks in on the marines; likely to find the loading of the loot has been judiciously done; and only a moderate extra percentage lost to sticky fingers. On the way back, he’ll have to help Wighard sorting the paper work of the slain marines and the reimbursement clauses. Or perhaps that’s a task they can lean on their old friend Emil for; a man of the modern fad of contract oriented justice, perhaps it may be part of Westvein’s act of gratitude for these marines dying to make safe their waters to see their families receive their due.

“Alright. We have done our bitter work, here; fire the huts, lest their tainted remnants attract new hopefuls, or the returning Lord of the Foxwood find reestablishing too easy. We set course for Westvein in four hours; after a little rest, so that we, and especially lady Jasmine, will have the clarity to guide us out of the mangrove switchbacks to the Talabec.”

[wilphe]

Wighard pauses his chewing for a moment, then swallows, Were you and Glod surface born or did you spend your early life in a hold? If the latter, do you remember the first time you saw the sun and the sky? Or seeing a deep born dwarf do so?

[dojango]

Jasmine says, "I dunno much about magic or whatevers, but that slimy old creep down there grabbed me and it was like, I don't know, he was tryin' to grab my soul or somethin'. Good thing I gots a slippery soul and a pocket full of gunpowder, else I'd have been in real trouble. He done ran away, although I think I winged him. Wish I'da had silver bullets or summat. You know much about how to hurt these bastards, Wighard?"

[bramblefoot]

the oars are raised, and the two boats are rowed out to the creek, and then out to the talabec, where the triangular sails are lifted, and prepared to sail to westvein.

can i get a d100 roll from one of you?

wighard: gimme an AK: magic roll at -10 to see if you know what they do

bertelis: are you gonna show the flute and the dagger to wighard?

grimgoth and glod: what are you two doing as the hours tick by on the journey to westvein?

jasmine: tell me what worries you about the collector

[LarsWester]

Wighard pauses his chewing for a moment, then swallows, Were you and Glod surface born or did you spend your early life in a hold? If the latter, do you remember the first time you saw the sun and the sky? Or seeing a deep born dwarf do so?

Gimgroth lowers his head while answering Wighard. It doesn't take much emotional intelligence to see that his answer is a matter of shame to the dwarf. Suppose you wouldn't have a way of knowing but aye, I be a Zon-Garaz. I have lived my days more among you Umgi than my own kin. I have heard of the Zon-Werit though I've never seen a dwarf in such a state. Why do you ask?

Spoiler: Khazalid & OOC

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Zon-Garaz transliterates into Sun-Youth but means one born on the surface.
Gimgroth feels a disconnect between his life living on the surface world and his ancestry. It's a bit of an internal struggle of how he views himself constantly falling short of the ideals of his dwarfish heritage even as he is more accepted by his fellow surface dwelling races. I think he has a bit of third culture kid thing going on.
Zon-Werit transliterates into Sun-Befuddled and I'm saying this is the Khazalid term for when a dwarf first beholds the sun on the surface of the world.

On the trip back to Altdorf.
Gimgroth would attempt to get Glod to tell him more about dwarf culture some of the more recent stories and legends of the mountain homes. His own stories date back to his parents time under the ground and he doesn't have anything more recent in his cultural memory. He would also seek to spar with Jasmine upon hearing that the halfling was interested in improving her martial capabilities. Besides this Gimgroth gambled a fair bit with the marines and trained relentlessly with a new crossbow he won off a marine.

Spoiler: OOC

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I've realized that Gimgroth left his crossbow in the tunnel under the ground. I've already subtracted a bunch of bolts and another crossbow from his GC. Fluffing this as he won the crossbow in gambling from a Marine but he also lost a fair bit of gold. Let me know if there's any issues with this.

[wilphe]

I only meant as an example within your experience; not to distress you brother

Yes, the Zon-Werit, I've read about them in the case histories but never seen one.

Your kin can live without the Sun; you can see, you don't need it for nutrition and your bodily rhythms are not dependent upon.

Humans, if they live away from the light of the sun for too long will become ill, their bodies need a day-night cycle to know when to sleep and when to rise, go without that for too long and well, it won't kill you, but its not good for you either.

He grimaces,

My order's founder, Aetius the Bright, did a lot of the early research on this. The thing is, you've been to the College of Light and that thing is like that all the time.

Humans are not any better at living in perpetual light than they are in perpetual dark; be there long enough and you tend to find leaving to the "real" world as disconcerting and unpleasant as a deep-born seeing the sun and sky for the first time.

His peers didn't like the implications of that research, which is why we are semi-independent, but from a strictly medical perspective everyone in there is subtly but chronically ill. And they are perpetually bathed in Hysh, which is not natural.

Ghyran, of the Jade Order and the Druids is the force of natural life. Hysh, well its not that, it's hard to explain, but it would be like surviving on nothing but healing draughts rather than real food and drink.

Unfortunately, one of the traits wizards assess themselves is by how much their bodies have been changed by exposure to magic and the Light Order think the adverse consequences of living in perpetual light are signs of their own mastery of magic

We on the other hand view them as unhealthy and in denial about it.

So relations are formal but not warm

[MrAbdiel]

Bertelis is withdrawn and quiet for the boat ride. He has only those short conversations he is required to, once the crew is underway; spends a deal of his time sitting near to the rear of one boat where the bodies of the fallen marines are wrapped and stacked, gazing on the still heap of humanity with grim introspection. Eventually, he finds himself in the vicinity of his company again; and lays out before him on the deck the things he took from the tomb.

The bone flute, which grew cold at the moment of the necromancer's demise. The nebulously slick dagger, with its covering partly soaked into the rumple of cloth beneath it. The rolled tapestry, miraculously preserved. He certainly seeks Wighard and Glod's opinions on the flute and dagger - but will wait until either and both are not snared in discussion, before flagging them over.

"Guarded by an ogre's skeleton, in the pit where I landed. I can make no pronouncement, either on the nature of this... oil or poison on the blade, nor on the nature of the flue; but I must suspect the last has black magic to it. It grew troublingly cold in my keeping at the moment Jasmine shot the necromancer; and again as his bone-puppets collapsed. My instinct is to destroy it - but I fear it is in some way tethered to the fate of the fallen Runemaster."

[dojango]

Jasmine spends most of her time in a hammock slung in the cargo hold. She tries to start reading the notebooks she had found so recently in Westvein, the ramblings of Till Krahl. Helps keep her mind off the pain in her arm, and the unease she feels whenever she remembers the sinister voice of the collector in her ear. It's a little hard, with her injured arm immobilized in a sling, but when nobody's around, she pulls down her collar and examines her shoulder where he had grabbed her. What suspiciously looks like a handprint is a red mark on her pale skin...

Spoiler

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Anything interesting in the notebooks we found way back when?

[bramblefoot]

jasmine: as you peruse the explorers handbook, it appears like he found a way into norsca that was mostly unmolested by raiders. there is no map, but a wandering explanation of landmarks and such, along with a cryptic message. so long as reason not cloud your judgement, a way into norsca you will find

wighard: the flute radiates a strange combination of ghyran and dhar. it appears to be able to summon the spirits of those entrapped by the flute for questioning, but at a cost. you can tell that the dagger produces a supply of black lotus on the blade from an unknown reservoir

[wilphe]

Wighard is concerned at the flute, Kwolf alights on the rail behind him

This is a most odd piece. It appears to be enable one to speak to spirits trapped within it, but an item of that kind I would expect to use the Amethyst magic, not Jade.

It also reeks of black magic, not good at all.

If such a thing does truly trap the spirits inside it, it would be an abomination in the eyes of Morr for it would prevent them from travelling on.

He eyes Kwolf

But, well, there are only two reasons the Raven Lord could be interested in me.

Firstly, because he has need of someone with my talents

Kwolf gives a low chuckling noise

Or because he needs someone to do things his priests and templars cannot because they would be a grave violation of his strictures.

I have sworn no oath to him, so I am not bound by them

Check out the big brain on the featherless one here

I can see why he was accepted for med school

I swear I caught him demonstrating basic tool use once when he used a stick to scratch his arse

A few of the marines turn to see who this new speaker is, especially as he's using Riekspeil and not Tilean for once

Ark! Polly wants a cracker! Kwolf stares at them for an uncomfortably long time then blows a raspberry

You know I do try to keep a low profile

Ark! Show us your boobs darling!

Moving on, the dagger should be handled with care. It would seem to generate Black Lotus to coat the blade, but how I do not know.

It does not seem intrinsically evil but probably not a weapon for a Knight of Bretonnia.

[MrAbdiel]

“Indeed; not a weapon for anyone with a shred of honor. But if this menace held it, it must hold some… historical value. How dangerous is this poison precisely? As for the flute… well. Perhaps when we are back in Altdorf, we can consult your magician colleagues about it. If it had snared the spirit of the rune master… then we are bound to strive for its freedom. A noble soul ought to rest with his ancestors.”

[farothel]

"I'm certainly not going to walk around with a venomous dagger," Bruno said, "and I would be very careful if we sell to whom.
I'd rather not have some assassin or thieves' guild running around with a weapon like that."

[wilphe]

I would need to examine it more closely, run some tests, but it is extremely nasty stuff.

Otherwise it is a tool, to be used for good or ill; but yes a weapon for assassins, a holdout of desperation or a leveller for those untrained in arms or weak of body

If the flute maybe holds the rune master perhaps we should go with Glod and talk to his colleagues about it, or ask the Spirit Bottles

I don't know what things will be like in Altdorf, been trying to keep you two as the twin rival faces of the Company and hide myself in the background.

However wizards gossip too, and I'm maybe the youngest Magister ever who happens to wear the Cloak of Destiny, was unaffected by whatever spell put Altdorf to sleep and is accompanied by an apparent emissary of the Raven Lord. One of those things would make me a person of interest, all 4 - well

[bramblefoot]

westvein comes into view after a half-day down the talabec. It's looking a lot better, and you hear the high clang of an alarm bell as the boats come into view. men-at-arms have assembed in the green as the boats pull up outside the dock. you hear emil say "hold, hold" as the men-at-arms get a little jumpy

emil calls over with an "identify yourself"

wdyd?

[MrAbdiel]

"Hail Sigmar, and his valorous kinsmen, ah?" Bertelis calls out, in his distinctively accented baritone; "It is your friends, Emil; the Company of the Burning Slug. And with us, we bring pleasure to many gods: justice for Verena's appetite; unquiet souls quieted, for Old King Morr; and hard, bloody vengeance for Ulric's pride. The raiders of the river are no more; you may trade freely and, if you make rivermen as courageous as these men-at-arms, you may dissaude such a band from testing your steel ever again."

[bramblefoot]

emil waves off the men-at-arms and signals for the alert to cease "my friends welcome" he calls, and offers hospitality. you see new buildings coming up, and the tavern has been refurbished, along with the smiths workshop

can i get a montage from all of you, along with your general itinerary?

[dojango]

Jasmine spends the first few days in the inn. With Siobhan and Wighard changing her bandages and liberal amounts of good food and ale, her recovery from her wounds is remarkably quick. Once she feels able to use her arm fully again, she spends some time hanging out with the marines, following them in their drills as sergeants yell at them to move their feet, gods damn it! The marines show her a few of the dirty tricks they use to get an edge in combat, and she explains to them the importance of insulting your foe in a fight; something she learned from watching the knights sparring. Eventually though she realizes she has more important work to do, and starts overseeing the repair and refurbishment of the two riverboats. While their fundamental construction is sound, the state of the rigging is such to send a midshipman into apoplexy and the decks have not felt the touch of the holystone in who knows how long, both of which she makes sure that a crew of river rats soon starts to rectify. By the time the party is ready to sail back to Altdorf the two boats are fit for an inspection by an admiral himself, although probably only passing if he was very drunk or near-sighted.

Spoiler

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Mostly recovering and learning how to dodge, although also hiring some crew to fix the boats. Probably will take a dozen men about a week, so 12 x 8s/week would be 96s in wages, plus maybe 10gc for rope, spars, tar, nails and other necessary supplies.

[MrAbdiel]

An Errant Knighthood

In the tavern, soon after arrival...

The young Bretonnian is not a natural carouser. There are stereotypes among his people about those folk from Bordeleaux, and propensity to debauch in their own winestocks. For a few cups, it seems to be trying to fill out the profile; but the second cup, embarassingly, sends him pale and a little queasy; much to the delighted mockery of the marines. They mock him because it is natural for men of low station to mock those of high station, and they are rarely afforded the opportunity to do so with one they have reasonably come to expect can take it. And take it he does - though he makes some transperantly poor deflections, for comedy's sake. "Perhaps, had I grown up drinking such Imperial piss-water, I should find it as much to my liking as you, ah? Roger? Daglan? It's bad, it's bad! You know it's bad. The dwarves- the dwarves will tell you, your beer is bad! Good dwarves! Tell these men that human beer is bad."

In the field near the dock, under the fading colors of the evening sky...

Bertelis braced his foot to his rickety old shovel, and breaks ground again. This will be the eight grave, of ten required; and he has put his effort to all of them, in some small portion balanced against the other volunteers. Here, among the the hastilly marked graves of those the raiders had slain now months before, would lie the bodies of those killed avenging them. They fought for coin, not justice as such. But they had fought; and they had died; and as a result, justice had been done. They deserved some amount of honor, here. He brings Emil to look over the process; to get the scholar's eye on the places where tomorrow morning they will use the manpower on hand to sink posts for a fence surrounding this graveyard, and a plot to set aside for a humble shrine to Morr. Emil, he has no doubt, will take note of the names of all those buried, and where they are buried; and will ensure that once the temple in Altdorf can spare an acolyte to add Westvein to their itinerant loop, they graves will receive proper blessing and marking. That would be some small peace, for the dead; and perhaps, also, for Bertelis.

Bright and early, the following morning...

One marine shrugs to another. "Well," the first says, "I suppose we just get started. Spear drills first."

For all the mornings Bertelis has been with these soldiers, he has harangued them to rise early and drill, and practice; and again a shorter session at night. Before that, he would insist on the same for the Company, in as much as he could persuade them; throwing onto his own shoulders the role of company commander in manner if not in elected title. But this morning, he does not come out to train. Perhaps, they speculate as they get to training, he is exhausted from the ordeals; or perhaps, now that the deed is done, he is done with them. But he sleeps through, that morning; shuffles out of his room to take a heel of bread for breakfast, and retreats to sleep again. He does not emerge until well after midday.

Later, on the second evening...

Having tracked down Jasmine making her assessment of the riverboats for repairs, Bertelis makes himself minimally useful; holding this rope, or hoisting this sail as directed, while he asks the recovering daughter of the Moot: "I must admit, I am pleased to see you recovering so well, ma petite dame. You endured a great deal of punishment, back there. Struck by hissing spectres. Seared by gleaming jellies. Slashed by haunted armors. And seized, with mystic malice, by the monsterous proprietor of that place. I noticed you fought with your dagger - did you lose your sword, in the fray preceeding?"