Emergence Game Thread

Harper, Party of One

None of the four players at the table react to your dealing flub, but you are certain the dwarf who most recently joined your game saw what you did. You're not sure why he doesn't say anything.

Rhiv and Therrien in the Library with the Dragonborn

Therrien and Rhiv bid a cordial goodbye to Dunigan, who shuffles around the corner and down the hall.

Biri expresses her appreciation to the two of you, saying, "Gentlemen, I don't often get the chance to meet people of more worldly perspectives. Most of the men who come in here are buffoons simply selling to increase their wealth, and the women who accompany them are often petty and shallow. You, and your companion To'ot, have been nothing short of a refreshing breath of air. My time with you had been exciting, even if worrisome. I hope that once you complete your mission, you maintain your earnest quest for understanding. And, wherever you find me, know that you have found a friend."

She turns to Rhiv and takes his hand in hers. "Good luck, Rhiv of the Daardendrians." She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. Without waiting for a response, she turns and retreats to the same hallway as Dunigan.

Therrien gives Rhiv a knowing look, but doesn't provide commentary. If he knew what to look for, he could see that Rhiv was blushing. The two head outside, where the royal guards immediately harsh Rhiv's vibe by taking them into custody.

Na na na na na na na na, To'ot!

To'ot zips through the late evening sky, darting back and forth, allowing the wind to flow freely around his paper-thin wings. If the call of the wild was strong before, it is nearly inescapable now, as scores of other bats cross back and forth, catching fruit flies and mosquitos, and travelling back and forth to nearby clusters of wild honeysuckles and blackberry briars, silently beckoning To'ot to join them.

Twice on his journey back to the library his mind drifts, allowing his animal instincts to take over, only to force his mind once again to the task at hand. They need me. Stay focused.

To'ot arrives at the library and flies up to an overhanging rock to rest for a moment, when he sees Therrien and Rhiv emerge from the library. Good timing. Just as he is about to fly down to meet them, the royal guards confront his two companions, and, after a short exchange, begin leading them away.

Rhiv and Therrien in the Palace with the GuardsAs Therrien and Rhiv step out of the library, they are surprised to find that night has fallen. Have we really just spent all day in that library? Before they can explore their time dilation further, they are approached by several guards holding torches and sporting the regalia of the Royal Guard. A tall dark-skinned half-elf steps forward, "His Justice, the King, wishes to speak with you. Come with us." The three other guards come in close behind you on the steps of the library and begin herding you in the direction that the presumable captain is leading. You notice there are four other guards maintaining a small perimeter about 60 feet out.

As you walk, the clinking of the chain and plate armor strikes you. The sounds of metal on metal are sharp and distinct, and you don't hear them very often. These guards are well equipped.

The guards lead you to the crook of the mountain, the very seam that marks the middle of the Ehre ward, passing the large Shrine of the Fallen carved into, or maybe out of, the side of the cliff wall. You pass through the gates, the smell of blackthorn and plum blossoms assaults you, forcing you to relax just slightly. The open air courtyard is green with grass and vines, and a small orchard of various kinds of shrubs and trees, most not yet in bloom. You can only imagine how beautiful it is when all the plants are fully bloomed.

The giant wooden doors, probably 30 feet tall, are propped open allowing the cool early spring air into the keep, and the orange glow of a innumerable torches and sconces contrasts sharply with the violet of the late evening sky and silvery light of the rising moon. You enter into the great hall, a cavernous space with a dozen or more pillars supporting the intricately carved ceiling above. Tapestries of the highest quality depicting glorious scenes of Blackwall's history hang from the pillars and walls. The smell of the fruit blossoms fades and is replaced with scents of burning fuel and some kind of meat being roasted in a far off kitchen. You are escorted to the middle of the great hall, where the guard captain tells you to wait. As he and one other guard leave through a hall to the east, four of the remaining soldiers come in close while the other two hang back.

There are a few other small clusters of people in the great hall, some chatting and drinking wine. A pair of older males, a dwarf
and a caramel-skinned human, are hunched over a table in the northwest corner of the room examining some papers. There are two other small gatherings that from your position are mostly obscured by pillars. A minstrel plucks softly on a golden harp in alcove in the north of the room by a large opening that leads into another chamber.

After a few minutes, you hear a familiar, if completely unwelcome, voice. "Therrien! I knew I'd see you again under happier circumstances, I just didn't think it would be so soon! Where is your beastly pet, er, I mean brother?" You turn towards the southeast corner of the room to see the black-haired nobleman from the library approaching, a giant smirk on his face.

Rhiv and Therrien Crashing the Palace

The young noble almost imperceptibly softens his stance, but he has not lost his contempt. "I assure you I will not be joining your audience. Based on your armored escort, I'd say you aren't present in the palace voluntarily, and that's a position I would never find myself. But, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourselves." He smiles a toothy grin, beaming with Schadenfreude. "But, I appreciate your attempt at manners, lizardkind. So, I shan't destroy your little band of misfits... today."

The nobleman downs his goblet of wine, and he and his attendants brush past the two of you and your guards and continue on towards one of the hallways leading away from Great Hall. He pauses and turns. "Oh, Therrien, tell your orc-relative that if he needs work to come find me. I'll make sure he has enough work to last ten lifetimes in the mines." He lets out a slimy laugh. "Or, wait! Even better! I will pay you two handsomely if you sell him to me. I would enjoy feeding him to my hyenas." The snide young man laughs uproariously at his own quip.

He places his goblet on a servant's tray and turns to leave from you a second time, when you hear an attendant call out from the other side of the room. "Announcing his justice, King Alexander!" Everyone in the room freezes, turns toward where the king is entering the room and, bows deeply at the waist, including the nobleman and his entourage.

Alexander emerges from the opening at the north of the room. He is stately, dressed in understated but perfectly tailored black wool pants and a dark purple shirt with a high collar. Draped over his back and shoulders is a dark purple half-cape with gold piping and on his head rests a small gold crown. He carries a scepter, maybe 30 inches long, made of a pearlescent material you don't recognize. "Ah, Lord Wellington. Your presence is never understated." The elder King bounds down the steps at the front of the room. Everyone releases their bow and relaxes a bit, but keeps their full attention on King Alexander.

The king addresses the Duke directly, but speaks to the whole room as he slowly moves toward your cluster.

"There's one thing that confuses me about your remarks, though. You just mentioned purchasing an orc-kin with whom this group of travelers is familiar in order to use him as food for your animals. Now, Lord Wellington, I know you to be an astute and shrewd businessman. Though I may not always agree with your methods, you have come out on the winning end of many more dealings than not." The king has begun slowly circling the room, hands behind his back.

"Now, I haven't been thinking very long on it, but I can't see how the transaction you described lines your coffers or bolsters your reputation. I'm sure you must have an angle that I can't see." King Alexander pauses, looking right at Wellington, almost challenging him. But, as he hasn't asked a question, the noble dare not respond without an invitation. Not that he would otherwise; he has an intense look on his face as he tries to grasp the point the King is trying to make.

The king continues, "You can correct me if I'm wrong, but you employ individuals with orc heritage in several of your labor-intensive business, yes? I know the Ellington family has had some, shall we say, less than desirable dealings with orcs in its past. Given that history, I can understand your feeling that orc-kin are worth little more than dog food. Why, then, do you engage in a relationship with them by using them as labor?" King Alexander turns to look at Wellington as he asks this final question.

Wellington keeps his composure despite the public reference to his family's questionable history and offers a poised response, "Well, your Justice, just because I wouldn't let them near my horses doesn't mean I shouldn't use them instead of horses." The corners of the nobleman's mouth raise just slightly. He's pleased with his clever response. "In short, they are useful to me, I suppose."

The King smiles, and the two of you can see that whatever he is getting to, Lord Wellington just unknowingly played his part perfectly. "I see." Alexander puts his hand to his shortly cropped gray beard and turns away from Wellington. "So, you keep certain people near when you might otherwise be inclined to maintain distance because of their utility. This is wise." Then turning to face the Lord noble, "Lord Wellington, you are useful to me. That is the reason you are here in my presence, in my home, not because I have respect for you, or enjoy your company whatsoever. You are no better to me than your orc-blooded miners and haulers are to you."

Lord Wellington's face turns beet red from embarrassment mixed with rage. King Alexander turns again to speak to the whole room, and Rhiv realizes he's witnessing one of the sermon-speeches for which King Alexander is famous.

"In truth," the king continues, voice a little louder and more commanding, yet somehow slightly gentler, than before, "the only reason any of us received the blessing of continued life along with the rising sun this day is precisely because some power greater than you and me deemed each of us useful, be it the gods to whom we pray..." Alexander gestures towards three people wearing priestly garments in the Northwest corner of the room: an older human male, a female dwarf, and an androgynous halfling, and Rhiv recognizes the vestments of the Adonaic First Disciple. The king continues, spreading his arms wide, "or Arazi herself. Since we are all beholden to powers greater than we, not one of us is better than an half-orc laborer, and not one of us is worse. We all have the same value so long as we are striving to be useful to the gods who gave us life and the earth who sustains us."

Again facing the embarrassed nobleman, he concludes, "You, Lord Wellington, would do well to remember this. And, mind that when you treat my guests with contempt, your usefulness to me diminishes." By this point, Wellington finds King Alexander standing directly in front of him, his voice barely above a whisper. When he finishes, the king maintains eye contact with the young lord, before coolly stating, "You are dismissed, young man."

A heavy silence hangs over the room as Wellington and his party begin making their exit. Before leaving the Great Hall, Lord Wellington, seething, stops in front of the dragonborn and elf, points his finger and hisses, "I'm not finished with the lot of you." He spins on his heels and marches out.

After a half minute or so, Wellington's entourage is gone and the din of the courtiers rises back to its normal level. If Rhiv and Therrien were expecting the King Alexander, who so eloquently came to their defense, to be friendly to them they would have been disappointed. The king turns to the two adventurers and says curtly, "you two, with me."You are escorted by guards down several hallways until you reach a private study. The king pours himself a small glass of a dark amber liquid from a crystal decanter before turning and dismissing the two guards who had just stationed themselves inside the door. They leave and close the door behind them.

"To the business at hand," King Alexander says as he gestures for you to sit in a couple of large leather chairs. He leans against the massive cedar desk and swirls the liquid in its glass. "Let's keep this as simple as we can, shall we? Who are you? Not your names; I already know those. How did you come to have the Duke's signet? Where is your friend?" Alexander sips a small amount and holds it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. "I have other questions for you, but that will do as a start."

Harper and the Seedy Underbelly

The dark-haired human woman is older than you first thought, maybe late thirties. Or, maybe she just looks older than she ought. It's hard to tell. Either way, she's quite pretty. Her pale blue eyes shimmer from beneath her smoke-colored eyelids, and her ivory skin is dotted with adorable freckles. She wraps her arms around your left bicep as she joins you in the booth, and as she whispers in your ear, you can feel her warm breath on your cheek. "Headed somewhere? Or just looking for some place to be not yourself for a while? I've got a few places you can be whoever you want."

She smells intoxicating, and suddenly you're not so interested in your stew.

Harp and the Seedy Underbelly

She looks at you, leans back a little and lets out a long whistle. "The library, that's two checkpoints." She furrows her brow and taps her fingernail against her teeth. "I think I know someone who can help, but it's going to cost you. And," she scratches the back of her head, "you're not going to like him. I don't know you, and I don't know what kinds of people you like, but no one likes him." She stops your walking under an awning just as the night becomes misty and light rain begins to fall. "Say the word and I'll make it happen."

Rhiv and Therrien Try Not To Piss Off the King
"When and where did this charge take place? Have you met with the Duke himself over the past few weeks?" The King pushes himself up from leaning on the desk and begins slowly circling the room, not unlike a lioness stalking prey. "And about these 'ancient artifacts': what are they? Did you find information related to their locations? And, what are you to do with this information once you've found it?" Alexander looks at you expectantly, before holding up a finger, examining the contents of his tumbler, and deciding to continue.

"So there's no misunderstanding, let me paint a clear picture of the stakes. What you've told me so far seems plausible... if incomplete. So long as your answers are true and straightforward, you and your companions might find yourselves on the receiving end of an offer. Were that offer to be accepted and completed, you would have the King of East Blackwall and his innumerable resources in your debt. If your responses, however, stink of falsehood or trickery of any sort, you might find yourselves on a one-way journey beyond the borders of this nation, never to return. The third option is a scenario where you tell me something that directly contradicts something I know to be true. Lie to me in a way that I can confirm, and I'll have you executed at sunrise," he states, perfectly nonchalantly.

He returns to his spot leaning against the front of the massive piece of furniture. "Everyone has their opinions of me," he continues, "but I'm not cruel. Neither am I especially kind or generous. I strive to be fair." He takes another long swig of his drink, and frowns slightly when he realizes its almost empty. He returns to the wet bar and pours another half glass, along with two others. He walks over to where you are seated and have each of you a glass of the swirling dark amber liquid before retrieving his. The king plops down in a large brown and cream leather chair opposite Rhiv and Therrien and leans forward, elbows on knees, tumbler in both hands. "So, provide adequate answers to these questions, and I'll consider you trustworthy enough to hire you for a job, one that I'm fairly certain you'll be interested in," he points to Rhiv, "if that symbol on your chest plate means anything to you."