May 30, 2017 9:27 pm
Episode 1
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May 30, 2017 9:29 pm
Thorn glances at Maeriks. What are you looking at, Big Man?
OOC:
Trying to get a read on the intent of his look, as well as what caught his eye in the first place?Last edited May 30, 2017 9:30 pm
Rolls
Perception - (1d20+2)
(9) + 2 = 11
May 30, 2017 11:58 pm
J definitely had the right of it. Based on the 10 that he keeps portraying Rutcranna as, Kray would most def have to look.
May 31, 2017 3:08 am
"What about that other masked fucker out back?" Ivor growls, readying his other axe for the grisly but all-too-welcome task of butchering the Hive corpses. "And how 'bout we burn 'em too, after?"
May 31, 2017 8:04 am
Rutcranna looks at Ivor. "Yes," she says. "It is best as you say, Champion. The other carcass should be disabled as well. But let us break him apart down here on the rocks rather than up above on the deck of my house. Would you pitch his foul corpse over from above? Let him crash in a broken heap there...." she points to a spot nearby on the rocks of the low ground below the deck, "... and we will cut him apart as well so that we can be assured that we are safe from his next rise."
"If you wish to burn them after. I will not stop you. My large iron cauldron is there nearby. It must have been cast off the top of the deck in the battle. Villainous Fingol mistreated all of my belongings during his reign over my abode."
"If you wish to burn them after. I will not stop you. My large iron cauldron is there nearby. It must have been cast off the top of the deck in the battle. Villainous Fingol mistreated all of my belongings during his reign over my abode."
May 31, 2017 8:11 am
Thorn finds it difficult to read Maeriks. The big man's expressions are a bit different than most people. It is not exactly clear why Maeriks was staring at him.
Hearing Thorn's question ...
Got it. Thanks. Thoughts only, so no response from Maeriks.
Hearing Thorn's question ...
OOC:
X, before I write what Maeriks does (if anything) was wondering if that was a verbal question spoken out loud or just Thorn's inner thoughts?Got it. Thanks. Thoughts only, so no response from Maeriks.
May 31, 2017 8:11 am
"Do we need to worry about Fingol's body as well, or is he not as death-defying as these?"
May 31, 2017 8:14 am
DMJ says:
Thorn finds it difficult to read Maeriks. The big man's expressions are a bit different than most people. It is not exactly clear why Maeriks was staring at him.Hearing Thorn's question ...
OOC:
X, before I write what Maeriks does (if anything) was wondering if that was a verbal question spoken out loud or just Thorn's inner thoughts?May 31, 2017 8:27 am
Rutcranna first raises a hand to Ivor, as if giving him a visual signal but not an audible one to hold for a moment before leaving.
She points down to the bull's partially disassembled corpse.
Now the bull mask has been removed. Bull was a dark brown-haired, bearded Dannein warrior. His head is face down in the wet rocks and mud now. Near the base of his neck, at the crest bump of his upper spine, there is a grotesque wound. It is a bone-like barb with a hollow center, shoved beneath the skin and tissue but running above the bone of the spine, running parallel with it. Perhaps about 10" in length.
"Now," Rutcrana says, looking up at Kray and the others, and not at all down at the body below her, she continues "...let us chop this one along its spine to completely disable it and also remove its head from its shoulders."
After this she looks down at the spine barb tube, takes aim with the hand axe, and then hacks inward at an angle, hitting underneath the barb. It is an excellent shot; the barb is mostly separated from the man's spine.
With one more controlled chop, the spine barb is cut loose. Rutcranna grips it with her free left hand and pulls back. When she does, thick stands of inhuman sinew and vessels draw back in globs, stretching out and most of them snapping as the thick barb tube-needle is pulled away. A few strands hold tight. With the hand axe, Rutcranna cuts through these with controlled slicing pushes until the sickening barb is completely free.
A large gory cavity is left on the body's back. Rutcranna tosses the blood and tissue covered barb down to the ground. It slops on the wet rocks with a disgusting splat.
Rutcranna leans over and checks the man's nose, mouth and eyes. She lifts his hand up and drops it. It falls down with a thud. Motionless. Finally it seems the bull man body is fully immobilized.
Rutcranna looks at Kray. "Good then." She says, almost in a different voice, in a manner that is more authentic. "One more to go, and then we can all speak freely,"
She looks over at Ivor, and shifts her speech from Yuoric to Dannein. "Shall we, Curaigh? If you heave Ludaigh Bodwin's Son down, we can work together here on these rocks." She gives a nod, stares at Ivor for a bit, and smiles.
In another setting, it would surely be strange to see this beautiful woman, barely clothed, splattered with blood, gore completely covering her left hand and forearm in a shiny red glaze, bloody hand axe in her right hand.
Here on Old Island at Rutcranna's cabin, however, the group comes to suspect that the image fits perfectly.
She points down to the bull's partially disassembled corpse.
Now the bull mask has been removed. Bull was a dark brown-haired, bearded Dannein warrior. His head is face down in the wet rocks and mud now. Near the base of his neck, at the crest bump of his upper spine, there is a grotesque wound. It is a bone-like barb with a hollow center, shoved beneath the skin and tissue but running above the bone of the spine, running parallel with it. Perhaps about 10" in length.
"Now," Rutcrana says, looking up at Kray and the others, and not at all down at the body below her, she continues "...let us chop this one along its spine to completely disable it and also remove its head from its shoulders."
After this she looks down at the spine barb tube, takes aim with the hand axe, and then hacks inward at an angle, hitting underneath the barb. It is an excellent shot; the barb is mostly separated from the man's spine.
With one more controlled chop, the spine barb is cut loose. Rutcranna grips it with her free left hand and pulls back. When she does, thick stands of inhuman sinew and vessels draw back in globs, stretching out and most of them snapping as the thick barb tube-needle is pulled away. A few strands hold tight. With the hand axe, Rutcranna cuts through these with controlled slicing pushes until the sickening barb is completely free.
A large gory cavity is left on the body's back. Rutcranna tosses the blood and tissue covered barb down to the ground. It slops on the wet rocks with a disgusting splat.
Rutcranna leans over and checks the man's nose, mouth and eyes. She lifts his hand up and drops it. It falls down with a thud. Motionless. Finally it seems the bull man body is fully immobilized.
Rutcranna looks at Kray. "Good then." She says, almost in a different voice, in a manner that is more authentic. "One more to go, and then we can all speak freely,"
She looks over at Ivor, and shifts her speech from Yuoric to Dannein. "Shall we, Curaigh? If you heave Ludaigh Bodwin's Son down, we can work together here on these rocks." She gives a nod, stares at Ivor for a bit, and smiles.
In another setting, it would surely be strange to see this beautiful woman, barely clothed, splattered with blood, gore completely covering her left hand and forearm in a shiny red glaze, bloody hand axe in her right hand.
Here on Old Island at Rutcranna's cabin, however, the group comes to suspect that the image fits perfectly.
May 31, 2017 8:50 am
When Ivor walks away to climb to the upper deck, Rutcranna moves to Thorn. She leans close to him and whispers.
Previously...note="Xorthan"]
"I am glad to hear of Fingol's doom, my savior. He was no match for you, that I knew. He is only a man, and will not rise. Let us though speak not of it aloud. For the moment, our enemies hear us, but soon we can be assured that we are alone, without the ears of spies catching our words."
She smiles at Thorn and nods. She has such a comforting look.
"When you used your great sword to cut my bonds, I felt sure that I would suffer some small wound for it. Yet my wrists are smooth without blemish, not even the smallest slice upon them." She holds up her then arms and wrists to display them. The she laughs lightly. "Yes they are covered in blood as you know, but none of it is mine."
She smiles and softly pushes her long hair out of her eyes, using a clean part of her forearm instead of her hand. "I have never seen a man use a sword that is so large yet with such skill and control."
She looks up to stare at him again. Round brown eyes. Big eye lashes. Little smile. Full lips.
"I feel safe with you."
[/note]
Then she steps back and nods, looking back at Kray, and then checking on Ivor's progress, and then glancing over at Maeriks who has walked away to sit on a bumpy rise in the ground nearby. She looks up at the deck, waiting for the body of the bird man to be thrown over by Ivor.
Maeriks, sitting off to the side now, loosens the string in his bag and starts to sift through the contents inside, whatever they are.
Previously...note="Xorthan"]
"I am glad to hear of Fingol's doom, my savior. He was no match for you, that I knew. He is only a man, and will not rise. Let us though speak not of it aloud. For the moment, our enemies hear us, but soon we can be assured that we are alone, without the ears of spies catching our words."
She smiles at Thorn and nods. She has such a comforting look.
"When you used your great sword to cut my bonds, I felt sure that I would suffer some small wound for it. Yet my wrists are smooth without blemish, not even the smallest slice upon them." She holds up her then arms and wrists to display them. The she laughs lightly. "Yes they are covered in blood as you know, but none of it is mine."
She smiles and softly pushes her long hair out of her eyes, using a clean part of her forearm instead of her hand. "I have never seen a man use a sword that is so large yet with such skill and control."
She looks up to stare at him again. Round brown eyes. Big eye lashes. Little smile. Full lips.
"I feel safe with you."
[/note]
Then she steps back and nods, looking back at Kray, and then checking on Ivor's progress, and then glancing over at Maeriks who has walked away to sit on a bumpy rise in the ground nearby. She looks up at the deck, waiting for the body of the bird man to be thrown over by Ivor.
Maeriks, sitting off to the side now, loosens the string in his bag and starts to sift through the contents inside, whatever they are.
May 31, 2017 11:09 am
As Rutcrana finishes her whisperings, a small chuckle escapes Thorn's throat. He stares at her with a half smile. She truly is enthralling.
Presently, while he waits for Ivor to throw the carcass down so he can help with the carving, he ambles over closer to the Maeriks. He has a friendly smile, but he is keenly eyeing the large man, ready to stop if he thinks he's making he fellow uncomfortable.
Presently, while he waits for Ivor to throw the carcass down so he can help with the carving, he ambles over closer to the Maeriks. He has a friendly smile, but he is keenly eyeing the large man, ready to stop if he thinks he's making he fellow uncomfortable.
May 31, 2017 11:46 am
Glad for something to do besides gawk and talk, Ivor sets himself to the task of bringing down Ludaigh's corpse.
He also rights the toppled cauldron, but thinks it best not to mention it was he that mistreated it.
He also rights the toppled cauldron, but thinks it best not to mention it was he that mistreated it.
Last edited May 31, 2017 2:12 pm
May 31, 2017 12:54 pm
Rutcrana says:
"We must leave the island and go south as soon as we can consolidate. With your forces, we must quickly make a full assault against our enemy, at the heart of their strength, before they have time to regroup. We can unify with your main group east of Driftwood, join up with the remnant of resistors, and then move by secret paths to the Barrow Hills. There we can enter the tunnels under Nahrooma. With the weapons that you brought, together with my magic, I believe that we can confront all of the Scath and even Glaaki itself. Under the coming new moon, we can defeat this menace if we remain unseen and pick the right time to strike."She looks at Kray. "Do you think this is possible, Commander? Will you help me and the small Bat Hannoc resistance as I had asked in my message out to you?"
She tilts a hand, as if inviting Kray to respond.
OOC:
Ez, write up what Kray would say. This isn't critical necessarily, but just for fun send in a Deception or a Performance check,your choice. We could get a feel for how well it's delivered.
Kray gave Rutcranna a wink and replied. "Shouldn't be too difficult a request since troops are on standby. Our job is done here, mustering up would be the logical next step. With you knowing the lay of the land, I doubt we'll have any trouble striking in full force."
Kray found his attention pulled to the spinal creature? that had been making a home for itself in the Bull. Kneeling down, he manipulated it with his long knife, looking for details. He'd never come across anything like it, larger than any parasite he'd ever seen in Mozamyah. Which was saying something, because the jungle tended to breed life on the larger side.
"Burn these, whatever they are." Kray scraped the spiner off of his blade. "Burn the corpses. Burn the old tree." He stood, his attention returning to Rutcranna. The look on his face was inquisitive, raised eyebrow, as if to ask Does that work for you?
Awaiting her thoughts on the idea, he took a moment to take in her physical assets. It was a subtle moment, intended to let her know he appreciated what was plain to see. He almost laughed out loud. I'll give you the child you want. Kray had never worried himself about leaving women fat with child. Although he didn't make a habit of it, and it wasn't something he strove to do, it didn't bother him if and when it happened. And, the couple of times he had played a part in bastard-making, those women were taken care of through his holdings in House Mercon.
More often than not, Kray prided himself on visits to, or escorts provided by, upscale brothels where the establishment knew how to handle unexpected pregnancy and often made a habit of keeping women on staff who couldn't bare children anyway. As he had gotten older and wiser, he had developed an appreciation for avoiding adding bastards to the House treasurer's expense account. In the simplest sense it was sheer pragmatism, on all accounts: skilled high-class courtesans were far more capable of satisfying his needs than a serving wench, or the like, and didn't go down in the books as a long term expense.
Above all of this, Kray also appreciated the emotional attachment that could come with making a bastard, especially for the woman involved. Several years ago a second cousin of his had gotten a seamstress fat with child outside a pub one night, then rejected her continued advances while reassuring her that he would provide for the child. Rumor had it that she wasn't satisfied with that arrangement, tried for months to romantically keep his second cousin's attention, and then lured his drunken ass into her bedroom one night and cut off his balls once he had fallen asleep. Of course, needless to say, that bastard was now a ward of House Mercon, as low on the ladder as you could get.
Kray would, without a doubt, avoid that scenario, to the benefit of any involved. However, from what he had heard, Rutcranna wasn't the attaching and clingy type, which suited him just fine. He showed a hint of a smile. Might have to try a few times, to make sure the bastard gets planted in right. Just to be sure.
Hmmm... seems like she wants to draw the enemy out of their base, freeing it up so we can enter with less resistance? To be clear J, in case I'm forgetting something (I don't think so), is there anything east of Driftwood that would be endangered by this ploy?
Last edited May 31, 2017 12:55 pm
Rolls
Deception to play along with Rutcranna's ruse - (1d20+5)
(15) + 5 = 20
May 31, 2017 1:22 pm
Maeriks looks at Thorn approaching. He puts closes his bag, items still in it, slowly and carefully. He then looks forward, then up at the deck. His eyes follow the fall of the corpse of the unmasked bird, as it drops about 12 feet from the low corner of the deck to the rocks below. Ivor looks down from above and then begins to climb down.
May 31, 2017 1:39 pm
Rutcrana stands over the body of Ludaigh Mac Bodwin, the defeated bird. She crouches down beside the corpse and talks, looking at Kray and Ivor. Again, she is speaking as if in another voice, in character, sending out false messages to an unseen listener.
"Perfect, commander. I think that we are safe to stay here until the morning. I do not want to risk traveling An Tulecheo during the night that is coming soon. And I have more rituals that I wish to do here at my circles, now that accursed Fingol is driven away. I must make sure that my hexes are still strong after he weakened them so these recent months."
She lies again, "I have some boats staged down at the south end of the island. Hidden. We will use those to cross to the south just before daybreak. We can reach land and link with the other group near Grindbriar Draw before midday."
"Alright, let us crack the back and remove the head of this foe. It is the only way to be sure that he cannot continue to move", again another lie. She means only to cut out the barb spine.
With that she nods to everyone, giving clearance to proceed. She points to the barb and offers Ivor his hand axe back, asking with her expression if he will proceed with removing the spine barb needle from the face down corpse.
"Perfect, commander. I think that we are safe to stay here until the morning. I do not want to risk traveling An Tulecheo during the night that is coming soon. And I have more rituals that I wish to do here at my circles, now that accursed Fingol is driven away. I must make sure that my hexes are still strong after he weakened them so these recent months."
She lies again, "I have some boats staged down at the south end of the island. Hidden. We will use those to cross to the south just before daybreak. We can reach land and link with the other group near Grindbriar Draw before midday."
"Alright, let us crack the back and remove the head of this foe. It is the only way to be sure that he cannot continue to move", again another lie. She means only to cut out the barb spine.
With that she nods to everyone, giving clearance to proceed. She points to the barb and offers Ivor his hand axe back, asking with her expression if he will proceed with removing the spine barb needle from the face down corpse.
May 31, 2017 2:00 pm
Ezeriah says:
To be clear J, in case I'm forgetting something (I don't think so), is there anything east of Driftwood that would be endangered by this ploy?OOC:
Kray is not entirely sure what is east of Driftwood, but he has no concern about it. That location would not threaten an exit route, rally point, etc. If you guys eventually bug out of here, you will be heading west.May 31, 2017 2:14 pm
Ivor takes his axe from Rutcrana and proceeds to remove the bone barb from the corpse's neck just the way the witch demonstrated. He had suspected the barb was important when he first caught sight of it in battle, but had not had the opportunity to single it out as a target.
May 31, 2017 2:30 pm
Thorn slows in his approach. Maeriks wants to keep the contents of the sack to himself, it seems.
Ivor is nearby, beginning his surgery on the bird. Looks like a one-man job.
Thorn sits on the ground, his back to a tree, unbuckling his scabbard as he lowers himself and brings it around to his lap. He begins to inspect the sheath, and then slowly draws the blade, checking it for any blood or viscera he may have missed earlier. As his eyes scan his weapon, he addresses Maeriks.
"What do you think of the blade, brother? Is it a good one?"
Ivor is nearby, beginning his surgery on the bird. Looks like a one-man job.
Thorn sits on the ground, his back to a tree, unbuckling his scabbard as he lowers himself and brings it around to his lap. He begins to inspect the sheath, and then slowly draws the blade, checking it for any blood or viscera he may have missed earlier. As his eyes scan his weapon, he addresses Maeriks.
"What do you think of the blade, brother? Is it a good one?"
Last edited May 31, 2017 2:30 pm
May 31, 2017 2:47 pm
After the grizzly deed of removing the spine is done, Rutcranna nods and then moves to her bag that lies on the ground. She takes some soap out of the bag, walks down to the water's edge, and washes herself off in the lake.
Fresh and clean, she makes her way back through the low ground below the deck where everyone is conglomerating, picking up her shoulder bag along the way.
"We need to work quickly. We leave at sundown." she says. "For those of you who would have it, come upstairs and I will cook a quick dinner. We have to pack some supplies. I need cooperation now, not arguments and not orders. We will talk as we work and travel. I know if Nemes sent you then you will want to know where to find my daughter. I assure you, I mean to do just that."
She stops before she reaches the ladder that has now been attached to climb to and from the upper deck. "Rhone. Her name is Sorcha Rhone." She is not looking at anyone when she speaks, she has her back to the crowd and her head tilted to the side in a way that ensures her voice will carry back to listeners. "She is very dear to me. I know she is in great danger. I believe in my heart that she is alive. I will do anything to save her."
With that, she climbs up the ladder. When she reaches the top deck she turns around and calls out, "Maeriks Mac Hannoc!" The big man looks up and then stands up dusting himself off. "Come to me. You have to change clothes and get your equipment. Do not tarry or depart from me, rascal. I am not to be scorned by the likes of you this day."
Rutcranna walks in the cabin. Maeriks, who was inspecting Thorn's sword, looks at Thorn briefly but then stomps directly to the stairs and climbs up.
Fresh and clean, she makes her way back through the low ground below the deck where everyone is conglomerating, picking up her shoulder bag along the way.
"We need to work quickly. We leave at sundown." she says. "For those of you who would have it, come upstairs and I will cook a quick dinner. We have to pack some supplies. I need cooperation now, not arguments and not orders. We will talk as we work and travel. I know if Nemes sent you then you will want to know where to find my daughter. I assure you, I mean to do just that."
She stops before she reaches the ladder that has now been attached to climb to and from the upper deck. "Rhone. Her name is Sorcha Rhone." She is not looking at anyone when she speaks, she has her back to the crowd and her head tilted to the side in a way that ensures her voice will carry back to listeners. "She is very dear to me. I know she is in great danger. I believe in my heart that she is alive. I will do anything to save her."
With that, she climbs up the ladder. When she reaches the top deck she turns around and calls out, "Maeriks Mac Hannoc!" The big man looks up and then stands up dusting himself off. "Come to me. You have to change clothes and get your equipment. Do not tarry or depart from me, rascal. I am not to be scorned by the likes of you this day."
Rutcranna walks in the cabin. Maeriks, who was inspecting Thorn's sword, looks at Thorn briefly but then stomps directly to the stairs and climbs up.
May 31, 2017 7:08 pm
Kray approached the bottom of the ladder, intent on joining Rutcranna in the cabin. Although he kept a mind to watch her out of suspicion, so far her plan seemed a viable course of action, one that was at the very least founded on their having a common foe. Still, Zaituc's warnings --don't trust the witch-- remained present in Kray's thoughts, especially after what he had seen during battle.
Men don't simply leap to those heights. And those... 'spiners'... how they had latched on to the men's insides...
Perhaps there was a natural explanation; Kray wasn't one to dismiss logic and reason, which were the bread and butter of his methodical and calculating nature. At the same time, what he had seen today on Old Island was making a compelling case for at least the possibility that witchery was real. This in turn allowed that Rutcranna could indeed be an actual witch, as Zaituc clearly believed, having said as much directly while briefing them on the contract. Kray was, to be sure, turning new ideas over in his mind, zeroing in on the fact that reality, as humans knew it, was perhaps simply a collection of perspectives and beliefs, cobbled together by various perspectives over time. One could, in fact, conclude that reality was simply not to be trusted.
He smiled to himself, putting his foot on the lowest rung of the ladder. Say that out loud and most are like to think you mad.
His thoughts idled on the subject as he climbed. Kray had seen enough in his life to know that just because you had been told something was impossible, unreal, or that it didn't exist... that didn't make it so. That dark night in the Mozamyah jungle had straightened that bullshit thinking right out of his mind. He remembered his conversation with Qiu as well, who had looked him dead in the eye and given a sincere account of how Alijanian culture, or at least significant parts of it, had an acceptance and belief in vampires. Real vampires. Kray wondered if they were like the kind mentioned in stories to frighten children. He also caught himself not doubting their existence, simply accepting Qiu's account as fact.
He stopped at the top of the ladder, casting his eyes out over the lake, then the horizon. Kray's imagination held him as he focused his gaze on the flat line that separated distant shores and cultures from the deck below his very feet. It was as if he was trying to will himself to cross time and space with his mind. Entire worlds are out there.
The world was, in a sense, turning upside down, becoming larger by the moment, the lines that defined it blurring, becoming malleable, translucent, fluid.
He felt a chill crawling up the back of his neck as he turned around and made his way into the cabin.
Can we call this a short rest J, just in case shit goes violent again?
Men don't simply leap to those heights. And those... 'spiners'... how they had latched on to the men's insides...
Perhaps there was a natural explanation; Kray wasn't one to dismiss logic and reason, which were the bread and butter of his methodical and calculating nature. At the same time, what he had seen today on Old Island was making a compelling case for at least the possibility that witchery was real. This in turn allowed that Rutcranna could indeed be an actual witch, as Zaituc clearly believed, having said as much directly while briefing them on the contract. Kray was, to be sure, turning new ideas over in his mind, zeroing in on the fact that reality, as humans knew it, was perhaps simply a collection of perspectives and beliefs, cobbled together by various perspectives over time. One could, in fact, conclude that reality was simply not to be trusted.
He smiled to himself, putting his foot on the lowest rung of the ladder. Say that out loud and most are like to think you mad.
His thoughts idled on the subject as he climbed. Kray had seen enough in his life to know that just because you had been told something was impossible, unreal, or that it didn't exist... that didn't make it so. That dark night in the Mozamyah jungle had straightened that bullshit thinking right out of his mind. He remembered his conversation with Qiu as well, who had looked him dead in the eye and given a sincere account of how Alijanian culture, or at least significant parts of it, had an acceptance and belief in vampires. Real vampires. Kray wondered if they were like the kind mentioned in stories to frighten children. He also caught himself not doubting their existence, simply accepting Qiu's account as fact.
He stopped at the top of the ladder, casting his eyes out over the lake, then the horizon. Kray's imagination held him as he focused his gaze on the flat line that separated distant shores and cultures from the deck below his very feet. It was as if he was trying to will himself to cross time and space with his mind. Entire worlds are out there.
The world was, in a sense, turning upside down, becoming larger by the moment, the lines that defined it blurring, becoming malleable, translucent, fluid.
He felt a chill crawling up the back of his neck as he turned around and made his way into the cabin.
Can we call this a short rest J, just in case shit goes violent again?
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