Fetzen

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr

It seemed that, in spite of what Fyr could only hope had already been the pirate's best efforts, Lapis and Arthur had not become fed up with their humble party quick enough to toss them out into the desert before reaching Zephyr. An interesting name that was by the way, having an ending very similar to his own name. And, looking at the architecture, Fyr also couldn't help but feel reminded about his own homeland even though the latter was thousands of miles away by now, probably.

Harsh, neverending winds ? Where he came from, this was an common challenge, too.
Lethal temperatures ? The cold could kill just as well as the heat, the primary difference was in the means necesary to protect against it.
The need to find water ? In theory, water was a quite ubiquitous resource in his homeland, but in practice this resource was often frozen rock solid and heating by means of firewood was a lot of effort. Finding a reliable, steady source of liquid, clean water was just as important for the foundation of a settlement there as it obviously was here in the desert.

So things really weren't so vastly different if one looked below the surface, Fyr thought. Of course the culture very much was as none of the carvings told him anything except that they looked odd and probably took some serious effort to make. So these were not some barbaric, nomadic tribes as some not so trustworthy figures claimed at times. Somewhere around the mental formation of the word 'barbaric' however, Fyr's stomach growled. It had done so for weeks of mushroom diet already, but now that some proper food was just a toss of a coin away the craving really surged. He needed meat, no matter what kind of meat but a lot of it. And he needed it now. But... but... he also knew he shouldn't even bother to check his his pockets for any coin for he knew just too perfectly there wasn't any. He was as broke as Dalious as this point, he just didn't say it as loudly.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Ashe. I just don't know how we're supposed to do that quickly." Somewhere else there was always something to do for an ad hoc mercenary, but here ? This place looked just too civilized or people were just way too good at hiding the evil boiling underneath. Fyr didn't follow Ashe as quickly however for she made a run for it just a tad too quickly for his mood. Weren't they supposed to, let's say, at least express some sort of gratitude ? Fyr made a quick gesture towards Ashe trying to indicating that he'd follow her soon, but not right away.

The Five Senses - Second Arc (Accepting New Players!)

Týfurkh

Týfurkh gave an appreciating nod towards Jen, then went to actually inspect the rooms they had been given as he shared little interest in listening to the ongoing banter between Karina, Chres, Tayla and Sil. In fact, he was quite happy to have some kind of reason to get out of there. The best way of not getting dragged into another weird... affair... was simply not to be present in the first place. Or at least so he hoped.

The good thing: The bed held and the soap wouldn't kill him. The bad thing: It still was an outstandingly backwards method of basic, everyday cleaning to use water and soap. Water and sound was so much better for a broad variety of items that weren't one's own skin and his armor could use some proper polishing at this point, too... On other hand maybe he should be surprised about Ru'Tev having buckets of water and soap in his manor in the first place: What if one stumbled over the piece of soap one had accidentally dropped to the ground, slipped, hit the wall and fell unconscious, dove into bucket of water head-first and ultimately drowned in there ? The divergence certainly made that a real possiblity, didn't it ?

This Lord had to be an absolute madman and so had to be his advisors. Settle down into what probably is the most hostile area to be found within who knows how many hundred miles to have the perfect containment for some special kind of prisoners, but at the same time not understanding how this containment works truly, and then not run this whole facility with as few people as reasonably possible while allowing everybody else to settle out of range, but drag a whole, large settlement into this mess ? Týfurkh could invision plenty of reason not to trust Lord Ru'Tev. Oh and then there was the morale aspect of imprisoning people in a dark, damp, magically infused catacomb forever. Maybe some of the inmates would have preferred death ? If something couldn't be contained by death, then it probably was so far out of any mortal's reach anyway that locking it away here didn't change much about that either.

Týfurkh was not in the mood for feasting. He had placed himself at one of the front ends of the table so not to take too much space away from anybody else and only piled up a not so large amount of food on his plate along with simple water. Could one even trust the wine here ? At least this was not a product that had to be destilled where, even under normal circumstances, a lot could go wrong if the one doing the job had no idea.

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

It seemed that Ash was sharing his own approach of not sharing Dalious' approach, Fyr noticed gladly as he got himself ready on the camel. Also a bit to his own surprise, the beast didn't buckle. It seemed to be strained quite a bit though because why else should it have felt the need to release the exquisite gases it had held in store for so long already just now ? They were moving forwards however, and the odour had been blown out backwards, so he was not affected by it really and left to enjoy the desert sun. He would have found it quite too hot under normal circumstances, but the many days below surface had taken its toll on pretty much everything -- including his muscles! That was to change quickly once he had enough access to real food instead of mushrooms, or at least so Fyr hoped.

"I'd say these are the 5 gold pieces most quickly earned in my life so far, Ash!" Fyr called back happily. "Or did you have any time limit in mind we need to go on before this challenge is completed ?" he double checked for any nasty backdoors she might have added to the bet silently. "Or does my current constitution not count really ?" Fyr laughed before looking back ahead again.

In front of them seemed to be nothing but sand, blue skies and a layer of fluctuating air stuck somewhere in between. No other caverns at least, it seemed. The worry was real as experience dictated that caves tended to come in clusters and why should the slavers have stopped with just one source of their preferred export item ? That was assuming this idiotic mushroom mining operation hadn't been just a coverup for something much more sinister he still didn't truly understand.

"So how long do you think it will take to get out of this place ?" he asked, not addressing anyone specifically.

Lunidio by Night (Martian & Fetzen)

Hadric had always enjoyed the night market for it has always appeared to be the kind of place where disharmony and struggle stayed outside, where people left their thoughts about the distant past and the far future behind in order to focus on the present, to banter or even just to talk to each other. Even for someone who considered himself to be a longer in comparison to many others, this kind of atmosphere below the pale moon's night had its own attractivity hard to find elsewhere.

Yet these days were gone. The sudden change in atmosphere across Lunidio clearly coincided with its new ruler's rise to power, but from a rather austere point of view, Hadric had difficulties blaming the prince for this all alone. Instead it seemed to be the people following him and his proclaimed intentions all too willingly. Didn't they think ? Had they just made their minds stop working ? It almost felt like a betrayal: Had all the calmness and happyness he had experienced on this market for many months prior been nothing but a facade, a thin outer crust hiding the ugly truth ?

Speaking of ugly, this late evening cleary fell into that category as well. Hadric had not come here with any intention to get involved into fighting, but lycanthropes could smell each other and the pack mentality had somehow taken over. He had become involved into the fighting too, throwing his not exactly humble self into the struggle. The rational part of his mind said no, but the social part said yes: What kind of fellow werewolf would he have been had he just kept to his own business and tried to ignore the mess around him ?

Hadric had been about to deliver a hook to the chin of a vampire he had not really seen before but who seemed to be just as eager as him to keep going when they both heard the sudden shout. Over all the turmoil, the words were difficult to pick out even with sensitive hearing, but the fragments that got through were enough to cast sufficient doubt on whether things should proceed as they were. The two combatants canceled their next moves and turned their heads to look at whom was shouting.

Another bloodsucker, Hadric thought. Great.

"Who's asking ?" the lycanthrope's dark voice hollered across the market. Now maybe this particular individual actually had some good intentions, but Hadric's expectations were not exactly high at this point. If only this pale individual would not actually start using his fancy sword, otherwise... things would probably escalate even more quickly than his boiling werewolf blood would have liked at this point.

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr's facial expression briefly, but nontheless seriously derailed as his ears picked up how the self-proclaimed, greatest pirate of all times named Dalious did take less than a minute to get them all into trouble. If it hadn't potentially made them all look like a band of ragtag idiots who couldn't stand each other, he would have pulled the man off the cart and introduced to a rant. With that option ruled out for aforementioned reason however, the giant had little other choice than to just wait anxiously for the reaction of whom seemed to be the leader of the small caravan.

The latter turned out to be rather modest however. How would he himself have reacted if he had been in charge of these traveling party ? Given Dalious the kick-in-the-ass of his lifetime maybe ? Or not maybe, but certainly! On the other hand, Fyr had to admit silently to himself that he was not entirely free of guilt himself at this point, but at least he so far had merely looked at the camel from close on. Despite the fact that he had lost quite a few pounds due to malnourishment during their involuntary stay in the cave, he still doubted the animal would be up to the challenge of carrying him.

"I have to apologise for Dalious' behavior, but unfortunately it's not really under my control. I think it's fair to say we are rather desperate at this point for..." Fyr did not consider his address so far to be particularly good at all, but he also knew that the really weird and ugly part was only to come right now. More ugly than their current, bloody appearace that was. "... erm... we've just fought our way out of this slave camp." and Fyr pointed towards the cave's entrance. His tone was perhaps a surprisingly calm, but he also knew that the slavers were all dead at this point and couldn't pursue them anymore.

What about the other slaves though that had helped them ? Would they find their way out of the desert ? None of them had show up at the surface yet, so Fyr briefly wondered where they had gone. Over all the fighting, he had kinda lost track of them.

"I ask for your kindliness to take us with you until we are out of the desert, even though I have to admit that certain members of our party seem to take that already for granted. If there's not enough space in the cart, I could ride on the camel ?"

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

As they approached the exit of the cave system, Fyr felt unable to deny the fact that he really would have liked to have a good wash. The blood was fresh still, but what once it had dried ? Back home, after slaying a large bear or so, there would have always been more than enough snow around to rub over one's skin and get rid of the mess while it was still easy. Here in the desert however... He had to switch to whatever alternative was around -- and if there was anything a desert didn't lack, then it was sand. He started to dig it up with both hands and just tossed it onto his naked skin, rubbing so the individual grains would expose their entire surface to the blood he wanted to get rid of, causing it to stick to their surface instead of his body.

A very makeshift approach it was, of course, and it failed to rid him of the entire mess just as he had expected. At least however the amount left clinging to him was significantly reduced and he could give it another try once it had tried, then trying to use the sand as a peeling agent.

Meanwile, it very much seemed like the greatest pirate of all times couldn't be bothered with such unimportant tasks. Fyr had to suppress a chuckle upon Dal's comment about the journal being pointless without pictures, but didn't say anything. Maybe the pirate would like the old runic language of Fyr's people ? One could regard it as both alphanumeric and hieroglyphs at the same time, maybe...

Anyway, there was no need to prevent Dal from doing what he seemed to like the most, even if it was asking magical avatars fancy questions. The problem was... if this avatar could only answer what Gwyn had written into the book before, then maybe it could not step out of its creator's behavioral patterns either ? Or, in other words, why should the avatar now suddenly and openly tell the truth when Dal himself claimed Gwyn hadn't done so before yet ? Not that Fyr had heard Dal's singing voice himself yet, but maybe it really was just abysmal! And a magical avatar could rest assured that there'd be no point in trying to slap its cheeks upon believing that it had just lied about something!

While watching both somewhat amusedly about Dal and very impressed about the magical avatar itself, he noticed the caravan and the pirate nudging him, too. Not yet having any question to ask the book himself yet, Fyr proceeded with slowly stepping away towards the caravan. Maybe they could be convinced to offer them a few seats in the back ? Would have been so preferable to walking in the desert.

The Five Senses - Second Arc (Accepting New Players!)

Týfurkh

If it had taken anything more to convince Týfurkh that this Lord Ru'Tev was a tad odd at the best, then the man's luxurious dwelling place would have done it. A not so brief glance at the ceiling left him wondering just how absurd an amount of coin it must have cost to gather and install all this crystal jade, yet instead of keeping his manor entirely devoid of any real fire it merely took a short stroll over into the guest's wings in order to find just that. Wasn't the Lord aware of the possibility that a chimney could become clogged up, causing the smoke to blow back down and seep through the gaps between the glass cupola and its socket ? Evil to him who evil thinks, Týfurkh thought. Maybe refraining from installing real fireplaces everywhere except for where it was closest to the guests made much more sense if one... changed one's mental approach to it.

The giant's eyes followed Tayla as she turned her back towards him. Had he really just wittnessed a serious attempt of an apology ? Maybe there was hope. Or maybe there wasn't, given how recklessly she placed herself and the dirt sticking to her boots onto the next peasant's lifetime of a pricey seat she chould possibly find. Had Sil not suddenly addressed him in this very Sil-like manner, Týfurkh might have attracted Tayla's attention right away a second time by just staring at her for a few moments too long. He gave Chres' familiar a stern look, wondering for a brief moment whether Sil might actually be the one behind this love story -- the one and only thing he and Tayla actually could agree upon disliking.

Theories, theories. He couldn't work with pure speculation, he needed proof! Then however... How could one exact revenge upon a cute little familiar ?

For the moment though, there were other problems, and Týfurkh decided to address them openly towards the other pactmakers:

"It looks like there are plenty of rooms available to us, at least the servants weren't aware of any other guests in this part of the manor. For the sake of safety I'd suggest that we don't take a room each though, but share where we can." No, he did not reward Tayla with even the tiniest bit of a sideways glance at this point. This kind of elephant was just so large that everyone had to spot it no matter how mentally absent or not. "So, any volunteers ?" Theoretically he should have teamed up with Chres so to prevent the man from drinking, but Týfurkh didn't even know how much alcohol was an issue within the divergence in the first place. What if people didn't make any because the process of destillation or whatever else could go wrong ? The giant made a mental note about asking the servants even though they had made a rather clueless first impression about a lot of things. Also: He just could neither chain Chres to his bed nor be the man's silent shadow all the time...

Týfurkh's eyes scanned the other pactmakers so to see who might be willing. He could't help but let his view rest a little longer upon Jen. Getting to know each other could never hurt and this fellow seemed to have some decent muscles on him, indicating some serious prowess in one way or the other. Little did Týfurkh know that Chres was not the only one with a drinking habit...

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr

Fyr was on his way to turn around and leave the large stone cavity when the greatest pirate of all time inevitably came into his view. It was fairly obvious that Dalious was not only searching for something, but also found something that might prove to be useful in the future. A prudent idea that Fyr followed suit, starting so dig through the mess the fight had created with his giant hands soon being completely drenched in demonfolk blood.

Perception roll

1d20 = 17 -> Success.

Most of their now dead opponents appeared to have been outfitted with fairly basic gear only, nothing that was begging for Fyr's attention. He turned their dead bodies around with his feet not even wanting to touch them anymore, and beneath one of the corpses there was a good looking spear of some sorts. A bit of a weird design he had not really seen before and, given the small dents and scratches lititered over the weapon's metallic surfaces, not exactly new anymore either. It looked sturdy though and some subtle testing by transferring a part of his body weight onto it confirmed this impression. He would keep it, but only after rubbing the blood off the leather straps used to carry the long weapon on one's back!

Fyr then hurried up to follow the others on their way out. Luckily it seemed that nobody had picked up onto the meaning of his runes and tried to remove the scratchings in the meantime.

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

For a brief moment, Fyr did seemingly nothing but to stare at his own weapon which by now was thoroughly drenched in blood and other bodily residue. Had he not been absolutely sure about the exact properties of his family heirloom, he would have suspected its inherent magic to somehow have interfered with the evil powers of the ghastly man and created this... whatever kind of portal that was.

So the armored knight was gone ? The woman, too ? And what had their last words meant ? They had certainly sounded like Cicero had not been surprised by the chain of events even remotely as intensively as Fyr had been. Oh just how much he hated it to lack information!

Speaking of lack, something there was no lack of was demonfolk still, and one of those nasty individuals approached Fyr from the side, barely enough for the latter to see the attacker coming in the corner of his view. Halfway ripped out of his deep thoughts and halfway angry, Fyr just pushed his axe sideways and turned on his heels.

attack roll

1d20+7 = 24. Success.

The enormous weapon cut through the demonfolk with enough momentum to come straight out again at the other end, adding a significant amount of bloodshed to the rather distasteful amount the cavern had already seen. Fyr could hear the sound of battle from at least one other point, clearly reflected by the hard walls in here, so he turned again to check whether there were any more to be dealt with.

They had a lot to talk about after this...

The Five Senses - Second Arc (Accepting New Players!)

Týfurkh

"Thanks ?" Týfurkh repeated, arching both eyebrows in an attempt to make clear that this was not exactly what he had expected. Or rather not all of what he had expected. Yet just to make it clear, he also stated just that verbatimly right afterwards: "Is that everything ?". The giant kept keeping his eyes locked onto Tayla, a task made much easier by the fact that she now was far less disgusting to look at again.

"How about apologizing for treating me like scum ? How about realizing that openly requesting for somebody to be imprisoned her could go very wrong ? Or how about accepting that 'fat' and 'big' are not necessarily the same ? I'm not saying that you are an ant just because an ant wouldn't fit through what you made your mental horizon appear to me so far either!"

Týfurkh did not wait for an answer. He just snatched the flask out of her hands once he was under the impression that Tayla had used enough water to clean herself and her dirty mouth up properly and handed it back to Sil. Too bad that now it was almost empty -- it would have been so amusing to see the familiar struggling to make the return trip! Now that that was out of the way, too, Týfurkh turned on the spot and stepped forwards towards Lord Ru'Tev.

"I am from the Nation Of Hearing and I don't like how you fiddle around with things you don't fully understand. A prison is not exactly a good environment for testing purposes, and those errors you have to iron out might very well be prisoners either escaping or suffering from things they shouldn't. I will take that as the resumee of our introductionary inspection tour. If you need help contacting people from my nation that could help you, then maybe I can be of assistance."

Týfurkh said this in a tone clearly not intended for everyone to listen too super easily, but not really secretly either. One could consider it the safest possible approach to deny the Lord any opportunity to claim that his eardrums would now have been damaged, too. And then Týfurkh pressed his palm gently against the other man's back and sort of made him move forward.