Hmm. Alek, you don't know much about this stuff, but you're pretty sure you don't look like either of these people.
Spoiler:
Turning the card over in mild bafflement, you await the dark elf girl's explanation. She peers at it for a moment. "...The six of swords. Not exactly a bad card, but not entirely auspicious either. It indicates a difficult journey, leaving the places that give us strength to travel someplace unfamiliar - someplace where what happens might sadden us. You are the sort who feels a strong connection to places, aren't you? Stronger than most can imagine. Journeys are often hardest on people like that. Are you, in truth, ready to leave what you know and go somewhere where you will be vulnerable? Where you may be out of your depth? Because that is what will be asked of you in the days to come."
Location: like normal grouches do: instead of giving presents, we take presents back from you!
09-03-2009, 10:14 AM
"How...apropos," Heriot says, uncomfortable with the direction things seem to be proceeding in as he regards the skeletal rider on the proverbial pale horse.
Unceremoniously, Forgrom reaches out and takes a card. Let us see if the fate the earth-mother has given matches the fate 'predicted' in this card he thinks, stifling a short laugh.
Moxidas stands silently, only dimly aware of Hecate's words as she speaks to the others. His jaw twitches slightly as he slowly grinds his teeth and stares at the three spilled cups on his card. One each for Lundar, Khor and Saiini, he thinks sadly. The air in the hut is suddenly very close, the heat from the stove uncomfortable. Moxidas clears his throat and takes a long slow breath through his nose, trying to settle himself. Easy old man, he tells himself, You've already mourned them - no use weeping like a widow in front of these people. Focus on the task at hand; focus on the two cups that are still standing. You can do some good here.
His composure restored, Moxidas stands a little straighter, lowers his card for the moment, and listens to what is happening around him. Despite his new-found focus, however, he cannot stop the small, sad voice within him from getting the last word.
They were so young ...
Spoiler:
Waiting for Heriot to lose it and start screaming "HERETIC!"
Jouet is hesitant to draw a card after seeing the results of the others - such mysticism disturbs her. Omens and heralds and destinies determined through ritual and things ending in "-mancy" are what cost her her home, her life. But she steels herself and slides one from the top of the deck, examining its face for a few seconds before turning her wrist to display it to the woman.
Forgrom, you take your card, look at it, and begin wondering if you can ask to draw again. But then you think it will be interesting to hear how she tries to apply it to you.
Spoiler:
You show it to the drow and to the group. Hecate leans in and looks thoughtful.
"The Fool. An often misunderstood card. Its most obvious and trivial meaning is of simplicity and naivete, but in truth it is more complicated and less...indelicate than that. The Fool is the protagonist. A man on a spiritual journey into uncharted waters, guided not by reason, but by instinct, and by his simple and unsullied connection to the natural world. You see the dog in the corner? The Fool often embarks on his journey with a faithful companion at his side. Perhaps you will find one on your travels," she says, then, noticing the heads turned toward you in surprise, cracks a sly smile, "or perhaps you have one already, yes?"
Jouet, your card also seems to lack any obvious meaning. You furrow your brows at it momentarily before shrugging and showing it to Hecate.
Spoiler:
She smiles - not her usual cold, ironic smile, but something warmer and more genuine - as she takes it. "A woman after my own heart, I see. The Queen of Swords reflects not the external situation, but the personality of the one who draws it. Sometimes called the Widow or more rarely the Necromancer, she represents the peak of feminine power and intellect unfettered by sentimentality or weaker emotions: keenly perceptive, intuitive, and with a gift for getting to the heart of a situation coldly and without fuss. Also very private. Not in the habit of explaining herself.
"Look at the pure white of the clouds surrounding her. That represents the purity of her judgment and action. People say the Queen can be cruel, and I suppose it can seem that way to those whose purposes are not as clear, but I admire that absolute clarity - that singularity of purpose - in the same way that I admire the sleek lines of a bird of prey."
She looks you up and down appraisingly before turning to the rest of the group. "Now, if you will indulge me, I will make one last draw - a reading not for you as people, but for the object of your quest. I confess I am desperately curious to learn what may be ahead for you."
She sets the deck on the small table, closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath through her nose and exhales through her mouth, and quickly draws the top card and looks at it - then yelps as if bitten, and drops it to the floor.
Spoiler:
"The...the Nine of Swords. The Lord of Cruelty. Nightmare...despair...imprisonment...hopelessness. I, I don't understand. The lights? I..."
You look at each other with startled, confused expressions. Can drawing a simple card really be so traumatic? As you look, the woman's eyes seem to come unfocused - then they snap back into place. Her gaze seems to fix you to your place with a new and terrible energy as her face contorts into a leering rictus and a dull red light seems to fill the room.
"The King-Who-Waits is looking for you," she says in a voice that cannot possibly be hers, and then she collapses on the earthen floor of the hut.
Her pulse is fluttering like a bird's, and she seems to be almost catatonic, but waving a pouch full of a few crushed sprigs of mint and a handful of mud from the sulfurous banks of the Hot River under her nose seems to do the trick, and she sits up, weakly, but herself again.
"I...I..." she says, eying your shocked expressions. "Oh no. What happened?"
"Right. And I dont know what a dwarf smells like. Lets not waste time with lies and deceit. You said 'the king who waits is looking for us'. Who is he, and what would he want with us?"
Spoiler:
first, this is an expression/comparison im hoping to start using. the one about smelly dwarfs.
second, FORGROM SEES THROUGH YOU!
Moxidas tenses as his companions call Hecate out on her half-truths. Keeping a careful eye on the woman, but confident that she can do little harm while still cradled in Forgrom's stern grasp, the goliath bends over and picks up the Nine of Swords, looking at it carefully. Not certain that Hecate appreciates the seriousness of her situation, Moxidas walks over and takes a knee at her side, opposite Forgrom, holding the offending card up less than a foot from her face.
"Your tongue has been free enough to tell our fortunes," he says evenly, "now it's time you told the truth. Who are you, what is your purpose here, and who or what is the King-Who-Waits? No more lies!" He does not appear angry, but he is clearly deadly serious.
Spoiler:
Intimidate: 1d20+4=21
1) Few things are as intimidating as a Moxidas with a belly full of delicious bread!
2) We're burning all our good rolls here. We're gonna get so owned in the next fight
3) Smelly dwarves is made of win
4) Heriot: she's a witch! May we burn her?
Last edited by Iron Weasel; 09-03-2009 at 04:13 PM.
While the others are distracted with extricating the truth from Hecate, Jouet watches quietly and occupies herself with what remains of the bread, tearing a chunk as big as Moxidas' fist from the loaf and ambling over to the stew pot, peering down at the concoction inside. She hollows out a bowl in the middle of the chunk and scoops out a good bit of the stew, ripping more chunks out of the bottom and dipping it in the mixture as she eats.
... this is good.
Spoiler:
I have no applicable skills here; Jouet is very menacing with her -1 Intimidate. She's just too cute
The drow draws voice to protest, and then seems to deflate slightly. "I told you...my name is Hecate, and," she adds defiantly, glaring at Heriot, "I am a member of the Ancient and Eternal Order of Funests. Or at least I was once, and I do their bidding to this day. I was always eager to learn, and that made me one of their best, performing the funerary rites flawlessly a hundred times. But I began to resent the knowledge that was being lost to us each time - precious knowledge of what came before us, and what may be to come.
"Being curious, I set out to learn the truth of certain forbidden practices. Rituals that would let us consult those who had gone before for guidance. The esteemed heads of our order called me to account. They said what I was doing was wicked, a violation. I told them what the real violation was; that the funests take the wisdom that should be our birthright and embalm it, burying it below ground where none may ever see or learn. They said such wisdom is chimerical, because the world is a wheel and what is always has been and what was will be again. I told them that I believed that things were not always that way. They laughed cruelly and said they knew of the perfect place for me to do my penance.
"So I was sent here. And every day for moons beyond counting I have sorted the bones of the ancient dead, painstakingly arranging them into neat, proper graves and performing the correct rites at long last. An impossible chore. I could do this for a thousand moons and it would never be enough. They told me what I had done was a crime without record in the history of the Exequy, and so would my punishment be, and yet...when I arrived here, some of the work was already done. Some of the mounds had already been organized, and among them were the bones of women wearing symbols just like yours and mine, Brother.
"So perhaps they were right. Perhaps the world is a wheel, and what is, is what once was and will be again. But if so, what is coming is something that may have been here before, but only once - a very, very long time ago. The King-Who-Waits. I do not know who or what he was, but the dead know him, and speak of him sometimes. He is something unique: not alive, yet not dead, nor yet immortal or undead. He dwells in a place beyond the reach of gods or men, a faraway land known as the Long Now. And his imminent return will be heralded by fire in the sky of the North.
"And then..." she reaches weakly for the jumbled pile of cards that has fallen to the floor beside her, and turns the topmost one face-up.
Spoiler:
Spoiler:
Completed: Major Quest - Learn the Truth Behind Hecate
100xp apiece
Location: like normal grouches do: instead of giving presents, we take presents back from you!
09-04-2009, 06:18 AM
"Hmph," Heriot says, barely processing the text on the card before returning it to her. "I think I have had enough card games for now. Thank you for your frankness in this matter, Sister."
Moxidas lowers the Nine of Swords and considers what Hecate has said. "My people have always prayed to the spirits of our ancestors for wisdom and guidance," he says. "I don't know what rites and rituals you employed to speak with the dead, but it does not seem so wrong a thing to me." He scratches his beard idly and continues.
"If indeed you did find the bones of other Funests here, then perhaps your crime was not so unique after all, or perhaps the task of laying these unnumbered dead to rest was begun long ago, abandoned and forgotten?" This last is directed at Heriot.
Moxidas places a hand gently on Hecate shoulder and says, "I don't believe that you are wicked person, but we have left our homes and families and friends to walk long-forgotten paths into unknown dangers to discover the meaning of the North Lights. You should have been forthright with us from the beginning, Hecate - but I am inclined to forgive you." He rises to his feet and looks down at the Priestess.
"You say the lights herald the return of the King-Who-Waits. So be it." He addresses his companions: "I don't know what this King is waiting for, nor do I know what form his 'judgement' may or may not take. But it seems that if we are to find any answers, we must follow the lights into the North."
Spoiler:
Guys, Jouet is eating all the bread - STOP HER!
Also, on a bookeeping note: I have added the gem we got from the Invunche to Moxidas' sheet, under [Party Treasure].
Last edited by Iron Weasel; 09-04-2009 at 06:50 AM.
Location: like normal grouches do: instead of giving presents, we take presents back from you!
09-04-2009, 06:46 AM
"I have no knowledge of this place, nor have I ever committed a transgression grave enough to gain knowledge of how the masters punish conduct such as Hecate's." Heriot shrugs. "I suppose it is possible and fitting."
"As for this King," he continues, pausing to carefully consume the last of his stew, "as far as I know, there is only one with the authority to judge me. My interest in this man--if he is still a man, if what Hecate says is true--is born purely out of curiosity."
Moxidas nods at Heriot. "I agree that she is not the most credible source of information but much of what she has told us so far has contained some inkling of truth," he says. Almost involuntarily, he glances down at the Five of Cups. "We have no other leads, clues or information to go on," Moxidas continues, "and so I believe that we must allow for the possibility that what Hecate has told us about the King also contains some grain of truth."
09-03-2009, 08:28 AM
