Virgins to the Night [WFRP]

[Another_Poet]

Virgins to the Night

Share in suffering gladly, as a good soldier of Sigmar.
Sigmar's servant must not be persuaded by the flesh nor by hunger,
but be chaste, resolute, and patiently endure evil.
Flee therefore from youthful passions, lust, coveting and envy.
A pure heart does not arise from impure ways.

--The Analects of Theogony

OOC Thread

Four Days Ago

“Four is quite enough.”

“There are still bandits on that road, sir.”

“The coaches have been getting through.”

“But if something happened....”

Talabheim's High Priest of Morr sighed, and looked up from the fire for the first time. “Tell me the truth. Do you really think it's needed?”

The rector didn't hesitate. “I do.”

“Then hire all five.”

“Thank you, sir.” The younger cleric hesitated. “There's also the matter of the halfling--”

“You explain that to the bursar yourself.”

“Maybe if I tell him about my dream...?”

“I wouldn't open with it.”

Elodie

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Miss Elodie von Stadler did not know why, exactly, she stood in the oratory of the Rector of Morr. Perhaps it was desperation, or perhaps she was starting to give some credit to Kurt's (emphatic) belief in Morr's prophets.

She told herself it was because a priest of this standing could be useful.

Evard Holt was Rector of Grace Garden, the largest cemetery in Talabheim. He ran most of the administrative affairs of the several Gardens in and around the city, and was second only to the regional High Priest. He had a reputation as a highly effective oracle, which might explain how such a young man had achieved rank so quickly.

The rectory house was well appointed, though it hardly looked like anyone lived there at all. Every surface was clean, every sofa cushion fluffed and untouched. Holt may as well have been a ghost himself.

The man welcomed her into the oratory. This room, at least, looked used - a haphazard stack of books on the desk, piles of ash beside the brazier. Rector Holt dumped some resin onto the hot coals and the room filled with clouds of incense. He looked calm, sincere, and thoughtful - better at least than the sidewalk fortune-tellers she had seen in Wurtbad.

He offered her a seat at a small table, and took his place facing her. Between them was a strange board that she could believe was used in dice games. It had raised wooden edges and was divided neatly in four parts.

Holt wasted no time. She expected him to ask why she was there; maybe some leading questions. Instead he closed his eyes for a long moment.

Ting.

Ting.

Ting.

Where the bronze bell had come from, she didn't know. He sat it down beside him and picked up a leather cup. It was full of -- beads?

Elodie leaned closer. She almost choked on the sweet sting of the incense cloud. If these were beads they were large. They had the color of dull ivory, and the shape of....

She shuddered.

The rector reached into the cup and took a handful of them. They were rings cut from hollow bone, either an arm or leg. A leg, she told herself. From a pig or something.

Each bone ring had markings on it, but Holt didn't look at them. He cast his handful onto the board before them. Perhaps with too much force: as they bounced, one escaped over the raised edge and clattered on the table.

Holt's eyes went wide. He looked at her.

"Miss von Stadler. You are ambitious."

Staring back, she managed a nod.

He peered back at the board. "This... I see." He thumbed one of the bones, regarding its little inscribed symbol for the first time.

"'March, march, march, come the heavy soles of Fate; you can close the door but Fate won't wait....'" He sighed. "Miss, in our world it looks as if every man makes his own choices. Some are born rich, some are born poor, but the struggle is their own."

He began collecting the bones back from the board.

"In the Realm of Morr we are cured of this illusion. You make choices, sure, but it's like a rabbit choosing which way to run. If the dogs are already on you, the choice hardly matters. Do you understand?"

Her response was not convincing.

"If Fate is waiting for you - and I very much assure you it is - you can go to it easily or you can fight it every step of the way. To fight it only makes it harder. And you've chosen the hard way."

He dropped the bones back into their leather cup. The incense was beginning to thin out.

"You want to build your name? Fine. Look--"

He pointed at the bone that had escaped. It lay quite near her, which happened to be the north-east.

"Follow the river road."

((Feel free to share as much or little of this with the others as you like.))

Rudo

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Rector Evard Holt was second only to Talabheim's High Priest of Morr. As the rector of Grace Garden, the most prestigious cemetery in the city, he handled most of the administrative affairs of Morr's temple. He received the Black Guard when they traveled through, which was often enough, and if there was any word of awakened dead - or those who stalk them - it reached his ears.

He looked skeptical.

Rudo shared his sentiment. If the halfling didn't seem like a normal candidate for putting down the dead, well, neither did a thirty-year-old with a bureaucrat's face and a reputation for fortune-telling.

Still, Holt was the first human who didn't laugh outright at his ambition. And he spared him the "you'll get yourself killed" speech, too. Instead, Rector Holt became thoughtful.

"The clergy of Morr always welcome a brother in the war against the restless dead," he said carefully. "If you can demonstrate your character, I'm happy to introduce you to the right people."

He stood up and walked over to the window.

"There is a hunter in the area. He's demanding, but he's a true professional. Usually those who apprentice with him end up quitting. He prefers reliable people. To be honest, so do I."

The rector described the delivery job to Kusel. Some statue was being sent there to inaugurate a new cemetery.

"I've hired merchant-guards, but... well, as I said, I'd prefer someone reliable. I'd like to send you with them. You'll be paid the same they are, but maybe you're in it for more than the money, hmm?"

He turned back to Rudo.

"Get our statue to Kusel and return to me here. If you do your job well, I'll introduce you to our hunter friend, or the Black Guard. Whichever you like."

((Feel free to share as much or little of this with the others as you like.))

All

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Your job is to guard and deliver a trunk heading to Kusel.

The man who hired you is the Rector of Grace Garden, Talabheim's largest cemetery. The recipient is Kusel's Chaplain of Morr, Grigor Leonidus.

The trunk is exactly the size of an infant's coffin, and it's locked. You were told it contains religious statuary. It's currently lashed atop the carriage with other assorted parcels. Rudo has the key.

You will be paid 2 crowns each upon delivery - a high price for a short job. In addition, Rudo has been given 1 gold crown "for lodging," though who knows if he will mention that.

Your spot on the coach to Kusel has been paid. No arrangements have been made for a return trip.

Prelude: Rocks Do Not Fall from the Sky
Late summer, 2524

The wheels crash over another rut.

The Talabec Road is as even as a street urchin's teeth. Aquin doesn't notice. Stretched out on top of the coach, he's actually managed to sleep.

The other souls huddled around him are not so blessed. It's dawn, and it's been a hard night.

Elodie von Stadler holds her face calm. When she was told they'd be going by coach, she imagined nice upholstered seats. But merchant guards don't sit inside; that's for customers. One of them at a time could sit next to Sarie, the driver, and sometimes one of the boys would stand on the side-rail. Elodie kept cautiously to the roof.

There had been breaks, of course. Sarie was smart with the horses, and changed them for fresh at every stop. They had departed Talabheim in the afternoon and driven through the night, with about a three hour nap at an inn stable in some nameless town.

The second day the soreness set in. They'd had only one passenger inside, a landlord's son. He was in good spirits when they dropped him off in some hamlet. He was there to look at timber prospects. Well, good for him. The empty coach seats seemed to taunt those up top.

Last night had been harder. Sarie seemed tireless. The way points were further apart, and the breaks shorter. The forest pressed close around them.

At least the midges aren't too thick, Ren thought. And they're due to reach Kusel today. If all goes well.

The wheels crash over another rut.

[theherocc]

Aquin sat up from his comfortable perch and called out to Sarie.

"Driver! Hold your horses. I need five good minutes in the woods."

OOC: Assuming the carriage stops, I will carry on. If not, I know how to delete.

The horses came to a stop at the beck of Sarie's reins and Aquin, making no move to leave his spot on top of the carriage, turned to his companions.

"Listen, we have a day left of this racket and most of you look like you're barely going to make it. I'll be the Drummer's blisters before going into battle defending this casket alongside a group of half-dead companions. So.." with a sweep of his arm toward the door below him, "..I suggest we each take turns sitting inside this empty bump wagon to get some rest.

If only we had a way of fairly deciding who should go first."

[Another_Poet]

At the elf's call, Sarie looks up.

Sarie's young for a coach driver, but she tends the reins and the horses with practiced hands. A well-kept blunderbuss nestles beside her at all times.

Still, she's been friendly enough with conversation here and there. As she tilts her head up, short-cropped dark hair tumbles out from under her hat.

"I'm watering the horses in half an hour! Can't you hold it?"

But before a moment passes by, she gently pulls the reins. The horses begin to slow.

"Don't say I never helped you out, elf!"

If she needs a break of her own, it doesn't show.

OOC:

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There would be room for four inside the carriage comfortably, or all six if you don't mind bumping elbows.

One of you might be sitting next to Sarie at present; feel free to say you are, if so.

[Tribe]

Ren had his back to the coach, his hands holding on to the side rail, his eyes closed and thinking of sleep. The breeze blew across his face and he managed to keep his body moving with the ruts in the road (as best he could).

The elf called to Sarie and after some back-and-forth, the coach came to a stop. Ren opened his eyes.

He dropped to the ground, landing on his feet and stretching his arms. Even though he hadn't looked to the roof where Aquin still sprawled himself, Ren heard the elf's words.

"It should be pretty clear," Ren said, stifling a yawn. "The young lady ought t'be in the coach."

He looked up at the stationary coach and his eyes stopped on the halfling.

"And maybe the little fellow there."

He still hadn't worked out whether the halfling was trustworthy or not. Looked a bit too much like a man, and yet, too much unlike a man. Ren was half-expecting Rudo to laugh maniacally and disappear into a cloud of black smoke at any moment.

He'd been told about genies and other spirits which took the forms of men, but nothing about halflings.

"Yeah, maybe the little fellow should ride inside," Ren added, turning to look into the forest.

Ren, himself, was quite fine riding on the sides or the roof.

[-Sentinel-]

(OOC: I assume it's alright if I ride beside the carriage.)


Sitting straight as a spear on his midnight-black horse (what other color would be the horse of a Morrite?), young Kurt winced in sympathy when the coach hit yet another rut. He glanced up at his cousin Elodie, sitting on the roof of the vehicle; hopefully she was not in too much discomfort. On the other hand, part of the squire hoped that the travel would prove unpleasant enough to discourage the young lady from other dubious adventures. Her father did not approve of them, and neither did Kurt. It was not the place of a noblewoman to barge headlong into the unknown and put her life in danger. And for what? What was Elodie planning, this time? Another misguided attempt to help some ungrateful commoners?

Kurt sighed softly. His cousin's presence on this trip only made his task ten times more complicated, and he hated to be in the dark as to the why of this situation. Though they were closely related, their relationship lately was very much like that of a noblewoman and her valet. He was partly to blame for this; he lacked the ability to refuse any of her requests, and she knew it very well.

[Tranquil]

"It should be pretty clear," Ren said, stifling a yawn. "The young lady ought t'be in the coach."

At this, Elodie smiled at Ren very slightly, then nodded once with her eyes dropped. At least SOMEone on the coach had an inkling about how to behave towards someone of her stature.

He looked up at the stationary coach and his eyes stopped on the halfling.

"And maybe the little fellow there."

Elodie stared at Ren in horror for a split second, before glancing at the halfling, and then, with a barely perceptible roll of her eyes, moving her gaze to the half-finished embroidery in her hands. She sighed audibly as she began fiercely picking at one of the threads, to try to correct one of the many mistakes in her needlework.

[Tribe]

Ren shot a glance across at Kurt and his black horse as it snorted. He barely caught the smile from Elodie, but then turned back to the forest. Now that he was on the ground again, his body seemed to call out all the aches and pains it had accumulated on the journey.

It wasn't the same as bending iron and beating mail links like had done for the past five years with Alfrek, or the mind-numbing duties he'd been forced to endure on his father's farm.

No, these were new aches.

He looked up the road. There was a definite ache inside him: one he needed to walk off when he had the chance. The future lay out there someplace, but at the moment he had to take it one step at a time.

He looked back to the woods, eyes narrowing.

[Another_Poet]

As soon as the coach stopped Sarie had walked up by the horses. She had a bit of turnip or carrot for each of them, and they took it eagerly. Her eyes narrowed as she heard what Ren and the elf were talking about.

"You know the rules," she said, walking around toward Ren. "Seats are for paying passengers."

She looked at Kurt. She's been friendly throughout the trip but she expects to have her authority respected. Perhaps the squire will back her up.

OOC:

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Yes, Kurt can definitely be riding alongside!

Throughout writing up this opening, I completely forgot that squires start with a horse. It does present some logistical problems.

By the above, the trip has been over 30 straight hours of travel, with breaks here and there and one 3 hour rest. Sarie's been able to maintain the pace by switching to fresh horses at every town or hostel - probably every 6 hours. I'm no expert, but I suspect a single horse couldn't make such a long journey.

Of course, Kurt could also switch out horses if he was willing - but I suspect a squire wouldn't. (Your call though if he does.)

Alternatively, I'm willing to bend a little bit here - your horse is just carrying a rider, not a whole coach, so it has less strain, and there have been breaks. I'm willing to say you've ridden it straight through, if you understand you are asking a lot of it and that it will be extremely fatigued by Kusel. Presumably, your kit would be on the coach to further lighten horsey's load.

[Tribe]

"You know the rules," Sarie said, walking around toward Ren. "Seats are for paying passengers."

"Huh?" Ren said, having been watching the woods. Sarie looked serious, as always, and not in the mood for changes to schedule.

Ren shrugged and folded his arms.

"Would it hurt, though?" he asked, eventually, as Sarie looked to Kurt on his horse. "I mean, seriously, couldn't the young lady spend just a little time inside?"

Ren rolls (Not sure what, exactly, maybe Charm?) (d100)[12].

If that doesn't seem to work, Ren lets his hands drop to his belt and he unclasps his beltpurse.

"How much do you think it'd be for the young lady to ride inside, just until we reach our destination? Can't be much longer than a handful of hours, right?"

Ren rolls Haggle (he has 31) (d100)[35]. If it's less than four gold, he'll pay the fare.

[Tranquil]

"You know the rules," she said, walking around toward Ren. "Seats are for paying passengers."

She looked at Kurt. She's been friendly throughout the trip but she expects to have her authority respected. Perhaps the squire will back her up.

Suddenly, Elodie's manner changed completely. She looked at Sarie with something like affection, then leaned towards her conspiratorially.

"It's just us. We're all friends here," Elodie said, in a singsong, wheedling voice. "Couldn't you bend the rules, a little? Just this once?"

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Elodie is attempting to Charm Sarie.

[Tranquil]

Rolling for Charm: [roll0]

[Tranquil]

An actual roll for Charm: (d100)[93]

[Another_Poet]

OOC:

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Let's keep die rolls in spoiler boxes, keeps the thread cleaner.

Tribe, I'll assume you meant four silver schillings. 4 gold crowns would be twice what you're getting paid for the whole job.

Sarie glances up at Elodie atop the coach, then at the strangely mis-matched, yet uniformly weary, travelers.

She crosses her arms and takes in the sight of Ren, tall as a tree and thin as a sapling. He doesn't need his purse; she can't help but smile.

"Since it's empty... and you asked so sweetly..." She shrugs. "None of this 'her ladyship' wash. The lot of you get in, if you want. But I could stand some company up front!"

[Tribe]

"None of this 'her ladyship' wash. The lot of you get in, if you want. But I could stand some company up front!"

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Is this change of mood from Ren's 'Charm' roll or from his silver?

Ren smiled broadly, glad to avoid any unnecessary conflict. He'd seen enough disgruntled customers back home, and wasn't prepared to bring that part of his life along with him.

"I'd love to ride up front," he said.

[Another_Poet]

Sarie looks over the axles and fittings out of habit, then hops up on her bench. She reaches to give Ren a hand up, but the farmboy doesn't need it.

The rest make their way into coach. The interior is by no means lavish, but the thin cushions feel like down mattresses after the last night on the roof. Both sides have windows with curtains (no glass), and a smaller window faces front. A panel can be slid over it for privacy.

Sarie knocks on the panel.

"If you're all done watering the ivy and conning me, can we deliver the mail?"

OOC:

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No money needed. It's a combination of her having a heart, and you being charming.

Feel free to make small talk, with Sarie or among yourselves; if you're ready to fast forward, let me know.

Is anyone staying on top of the coach or do you all (minus Kurt) get in?

[drum-n-bass]

Rudo Silverpockets was out like a non-lit candle. At the mention of half-dead his slightly pointed ears perked up a bit but soon fell back down. Once the cart stops, Rudo lets out a large yawn and wakes up. Well, well, well, I was out for a while, wasn't I? Anyways I'm tired of this road if you can even call it that. He blurts out. He clambers his way down the side and loads a long wooden pipe he pulls from his lincoln green overcoat. He lights it and takes a few drags before climbing up into the coach and introducing himself to the lady. Why good afternoon dear. I am called Rudo Silverpockets. What does everyone call you? he says sticking his hand out for a handshake.

[Tranquil]

He lights it and takes a few drags before climbing up into the coach and introducing himself to the lady. Why good afternoon dear. I am called Rudo Silverpockets. What does everyone call you? he says sticking his hand out for a handshake.

Elodie hesitated, then smiled broadly while brushing the tips of the halfling's fingers. She quickly moved her hand back under her embroidery hoop. "How do you do?" she said. I am Lady Von Stadler."

[theherocc]

Aquin watched as the motley crew climbed into the carriage; his pirate companion making friends with the driver up front. Shaking his head, he climbed back on top of the carriage to maintain a watch. Once back on his perch, he turned to the black rider.

"At least some of us know what it means to guard a carriage, right?"

[-Sentinel-]

Kurt scowled disapprovingly at the impertinent coachwoman, but did not comment; perhaps she was simply not used to dealing with the nobility. He did not like the idea of his charge sharing the inside of the coach, where he could not watch her, with such dubious people, but could he really forbid it? He brought his horse closer to the coach in a tacit threat to anyone who might be tempted to steal from his cousin or, Sigmar forbid, woo her.

"At least some of us know what it means to guard a carriage, right?"

Kurt gave the Elf a forced smile, but did not answer. He was not very good at small talk, and besides, he did not trust Elves. Especially this one, who was even a gambler, for the gods' sake.

[drum-n-bass]

Elodie hesitated, then smiled broadly while brushing the tips of the halfling's fingers. She quickly moved her hand back under her embroidery hoop. "How do you do?" she said. I am Lady Von Stadler."

Oh well it is a pleasure meeting you Lady. Rudo says with a little bow. He addresses the rest of the companions in the carriage. And who all are you lot then?

[BloodyAngel]

Lynn Foerster

Sitting quietly for most of the trip so far, the slender figure in the worn leathers could have easily passed for a young man, were one not to get a look at her face. Her head was shaved bare, with a curious, blotchy scar upon her forehead in the vague shape of the holy comet of Sigmar. She was young, too much so for this sort of work perhaps... and though her clothing was stained, worn and in places ragged, she seemed to bear the discomfort of the trip well enough. She gave no complaints, merely listening with her head bowed. The perceptive might notice that she kept a silent eye turned on their elven companion.

When the wagon stopped, she slipped from her spot with a bit more of a soft groan than might be expected from someone so stoic, and stretched her back lightly, before hefting her large flail and the cloth shoulder-sling that contained her few meager possessions. At the halfling's gesture of greeting, she gave a curious look.

Lynn. She answered him, blunt and matter-of-factly. And I was expecting the other guards to be of more stature.

[Another_Poet]

Sarie gives a shake of the reins and the coach is off again. Sitting up front, Ren gets the feeling that she likes him -- but when he manoeuvres so their legs are touching, she scoots an inch farther away.

As they drive they chat. Sarie runs the route to Kusel routinely. At times she's gone as far upriver as Bek, and occasionally she's gone in the other direction. This makes her easily the most well-traveled woman Ren's ever spent time with.

"Aye, we own it outright," she says of the coach. "Me and my da'. Well, he owns it, really, but he's in no shape to drive anymore. He's getting on, so I took over the job."

Inside the coach the suddenly-lively Rudo seems to have questions for everyone. Elodie keeps to her needlework, and Lynne's answers seem pointed, leaving Aquin to carry most of the conversation.

Kurt has a much lonelier job. At least before there were other sets of eyes watching the roadside. Now, their outrider has the job largely to himself. His horse goes at an easy trot to match the coach's pace, but it's still been a long trip for the poor beast. Straight-backed and dutiful, the squire doesn't coddle it; the horse will do its job, and he will do his.

True to her word, Sarie waters the horses at a swift-running stream; then the coach moves on.

* * *

Throughout their trip they had seen others on the road. There had been boat hands walking upriver, having completed some barge run or other and heading back to their town of origin. There had been farm carts loaded high with early grain going to mill. But for the last few hours there has been no one at all.

The forest was thick. Villages seemed less common out here, and with the wild woods pressed tight around them, farms were not a likely sight either.

It was a narrow stretch of road, surrounded by marsh. The trees were no thinner: they grew directly out of the green scummy water, and moss dangled from their branches.

A good place for an ambush, Kurt thought. He sweated in the summer heat, but he didn't flinch.

Suddenly, Sarie pulled the reins. The passengers were almost thrown from their seats as the coach came to a swift halt. Sarie tapped rapidly on the window panel and hissed for their attention.

Kurt and Ren saw what she was looking at: the road ahead was blocked.

Some giant obstruction sat neatly across the middle of the road. More than one coach robbery began with a roadblock like this.

Except bandits usually used a heap of logs and branches, and this looked smooth -- maybe rock?

OOC:

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The coach stopped about 40 yards from the obstacle.

[BloodyAngel]

Lynn Foerster

With the sudden lurch of the carriage, Lynn seemed to come alert, and once she recovered from nearly falling from her seat, she immediately stood to poke her head out and see what had caused the ruckus. Her flail was held tightly in her hands... A little too much so, in fact.

What happens? She called to the driver, a twinge of worry coloring her voice as sheheaded to dismount herself from the wagon.

[Another_Poet]

Lynn gets no answer.

Dismounting, she lands on the firm-packed Talabec road. There's room to walk on either side of the carriage, but not much more than that: the road is bordered by swamp on one side, and a backwater of the Talabec on the other.

Once on the ground, Lynn sees that Sarie has stood up, like a hare listening for a hound. Her blunderbuss is ready, but so far there's nothing to shoot.

More than a hundred feet up ahead Lynn spots the obstacle that blocks their way. Looks like a boulder covered in moss, but how it might have gotten in the middle of the road...

[drum-n-bass]

Rudo had been daydreaming off into the swamp. He was thinking about some delicious stew but then started thinking about destroying some of the restless dead then he switched back to how much he likes food. Oh the mind of a halfling tomb robber. The cart suddenly stopping throws him onto the floor of the carriage. What in the name of the gods was that? He gets out and stares at the weird moss covered boulder looking thing. He slyly takes out his sling from his left pant pocket and readies it and case of an ambush. What do you think it might be? he asks of the general party.

[Tribe]

Ren stood at the front of the coach, next to the vigilant Sarie. He couldn't help but be impressed by the way she held her blunderbuss. His own hands gripped his spear.

He wondered what use he would be if this truly was a robbery.

And then he sort of felt the presence of his opa, somewhere above him. He could have sworn he'd felt a breeze gently cross his face, the smell of tabacco and brine bringing back all the stories from the loft.

"Rocks don't normally grow from roads," he said softly and then dropped to the track, knowing that Sarie would be providing cover.

He looked up at the sky briefly.

"And they don't usually drop from the sky."

Unless, he thought, they had been dropped there by some wandering giant birds of prey, or thrown there by a displeased god.

He gripped his spear.

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Ren will roll his perception, which is 35. (d100)[53]

[Another_Poet]

Ren's feet land on the ground heavier than Lynn's did. The boy is brave. Sarie glances at him as he steps forward, then returns to nervously scanning the trees.

The farm boy puzzles over the rock. It looks strange, but from this distance, he can't make out much.

OOC:

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the smell of tabacco and brine bringing back all the stories from the loft.

Which Ren has never smelled

Nice though. I'm loving the roleplay.

Map:

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This is just to give you an idea of the layout. We don't need to act in combat time (yet). I tend to assume you can move past a friendly character in most situations; none of you are blocking any of the others.

Assume there is heavy foliage. Brown spots are tree trunks. Light green on the right is swampy, and will hamper movement (and soak your boots, or Rudy, your trousers.)

Deep green on the left is scum-covered water. You can't tell how deep it is.

The obstacle is 40 yards ahead of you.

[theherocc]

Aquin stayed on his perch on top of the coach, but now with his sword drawn. He turned his head to watch behind.

"Eyes ahead and to the sides everyone. I will watch behind."

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I can't remember how to roll a die. Aquin has excellent vision...

[Tranquil]

Elodie looked out the window to her side of the coach, where she had last been aware of Kurt's presence. She did not see him. From the waist of her dirndl, she pulled out a small blade, and maneuvered it under her embroidery hoop. For the brief moment it was visible, the knife looked pathetically tiny.

[Tranquil]

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Elodie also attempts to use her Perception. (1d100)[72]