Nov 22, 2020 12:12 am
Otawla sits by the fire, and recalls his story. You've heard it many times, but a good story bears repeating, and if you're bored enough, a poor story as well. Three weeks onto this voyage however, you are south beyond Stygia and no one among you has been this far. This is wild, inhospitable territory. Strange creatures are glimpsed in the trees, and huge shapes lumber beneath your river barge.
"The man that came to me was feverish, and his eyes rolled with wildness. I could not make out his works but one in three, for he spoke a dialect of Stygian that rang oddly in my ears. I gave him a cup and sent Peglay to fetch fortified wine." The slave Peglay beams at being mentioned in so great a tale, his burn-scarred face seeming almost normal in the firelight.
"His tale, oft repeated before he succombed to his illness, a wasting disease that I think he was born with, for his limbs were mishapen, as happens when a birth is wrong and the child is allowed to life." Otawla makes a superstitious sign against evil. "His tale, he told me where he came, with only rudimentary guidepoints. We have seen them on this passage - the split cliff like as if from an axe blow, the river of veridian water from the strange mud on the bank, the great lake and the island city that we have not yet seen. But we are close my friends. Close to obscene wealth." He does not say it, but his mood, his sudden darkening of his expression, tell you that he does not say you are also close to death and misfortune.
"He spoke the word again, 'Zukundu,' and pushed a rock into my hand. It was jade, and set with gold and a sapphire the size of the end of my finger. Magnificent, I'd never seen the like. The jade was carved with a taboo, a warning. I do not know what it meant, but in old Stygian, it would have meant 'falling stars' or maybe 'where stars fall' I do not know. Maybe something else. But it was a warning. My eyes were not for the unfamiliar glyph, but for the gold and the gem. I sold it and equipped this expedition. You each have a stake, your freedom and your share of the wealth, less your slave price." You are not all slaves, but some are, especially the porters, brought to haul the booty back to the known lands.
He pushes a stick into the fire, sparks flying high into the night like omens. "I think it will be tomorrow or the next two days. I feel it in my bones. What say you, wizard Odan Nehebaku? Are the omens good?"
Let's introduce ourselves. Please give us a description of yourself and your gear, and anything else the others know of you.
Just for magnitude, there are the four PCs, Otawla, his personal slave Peglay, and a dozen porter-salves.
"The man that came to me was feverish, and his eyes rolled with wildness. I could not make out his works but one in three, for he spoke a dialect of Stygian that rang oddly in my ears. I gave him a cup and sent Peglay to fetch fortified wine." The slave Peglay beams at being mentioned in so great a tale, his burn-scarred face seeming almost normal in the firelight.
"His tale, oft repeated before he succombed to his illness, a wasting disease that I think he was born with, for his limbs were mishapen, as happens when a birth is wrong and the child is allowed to life." Otawla makes a superstitious sign against evil. "His tale, he told me where he came, with only rudimentary guidepoints. We have seen them on this passage - the split cliff like as if from an axe blow, the river of veridian water from the strange mud on the bank, the great lake and the island city that we have not yet seen. But we are close my friends. Close to obscene wealth." He does not say it, but his mood, his sudden darkening of his expression, tell you that he does not say you are also close to death and misfortune.
"He spoke the word again, 'Zukundu,' and pushed a rock into my hand. It was jade, and set with gold and a sapphire the size of the end of my finger. Magnificent, I'd never seen the like. The jade was carved with a taboo, a warning. I do not know what it meant, but in old Stygian, it would have meant 'falling stars' or maybe 'where stars fall' I do not know. Maybe something else. But it was a warning. My eyes were not for the unfamiliar glyph, but for the gold and the gem. I sold it and equipped this expedition. You each have a stake, your freedom and your share of the wealth, less your slave price." You are not all slaves, but some are, especially the porters, brought to haul the booty back to the known lands.
He pushes a stick into the fire, sparks flying high into the night like omens. "I think it will be tomorrow or the next two days. I feel it in my bones. What say you, wizard Odan Nehebaku? Are the omens good?"
Let's introduce ourselves. Please give us a description of yourself and your gear, and anything else the others know of you.
Just for magnitude, there are the four PCs, Otawla, his personal slave Peglay, and a dozen porter-salves.
