Welcome, all, to the fun and exciting world of Athas! Here you will encounter lush, tropical jungles, a cornucopia of delicious foodstuffs, and an infinite stock of panacea at all local apothecary shops!
Welcome, all, to Athas! It's hot here, there's a lot of sand, rocks, it's hot, some bad guys, no food, it's hot and last but not least we have Raam. A gangrenous leg attached to a diseased body, with a brave crew of indomitable adventurers who are doing their best at seeking a cure! The lineup is as follows:
Raqib, a
Fighter played by OptimusZed.
Hashiq, a
Barbarian played by Grog.
Lendara, a
Shaman played by Anialos.
Dal, an
Ardent played by SanderJK.
Zerris, a
Psion played by interrobang.
Samira Bestet, a
Sorceress played by Northguard.
At this point, we will assume only the party listed above responded to the call, and as such were the only persons present at the table.
With the last applicant taking his seat after his introduction (or lounging up against the wall, barring sitting), Gaj Gestures widely with open arms.
"Please, fill yourselves." He looks to the wall at Raqib,
You should eat with your companions. Breaking bread with newfound cohorts is a good way to build camaraderie and trust." White-robed slaves continue scurrying about the room, removing empty plates and replacing them with more plates and bowls of delicious-smelling foods.
Gaj reaches forward and rips a limb off of a cooked animal of some sort or another. It is a dark, rich bronze in color, and juices ooze from the tear. He takes a large bite, chews quickly and swallows.
"I will brief you all on the situation. Some months ago, a troupe of taskmasters and slaves returned from our amethyst mine in the Right Gauntlet. They were all covered in dirt and blood, looked as if they hadn't eaten in days, and not a single one of them was without a series of scorch marks across his arms and chest. When questioned about what had happened, there were no coherent responses given; it was all complete gibberish. We understood some words here and there, but nothing even close to helping us make sense of anything. Near a score returned to Raam, and only three survive to this day. They continue their inane rambling whenever they are not asleep, and they eat nothing we attempt to give them. We've seen them huddled in a corner, talking, whispering or shouting to themselves, while picking scarabs and small lizards off the walls and eating them whole.
"Now, how you go about this, I will leave up to you. Know, however, that the mine is not easily found, so finding a guide may be a prudent decision. I wish I knew where to find a sane taskmaster to send with you, but a number of our old slave have been freed and now work in the Low Quarter, many of which continue their trade as stoneworkers." This is a somewhat surprising thing. Freeing slaves? House M'ke is extraordinarily generous in these times of strife.
"You may recognize them by our emblem, which most of them proudly wear emblazoned on their tunics to this day, as a sign of what they have earned." He points to a patch on his left shoulder. On the patch is an image of some strange, white bird flying in front of a dark red circle.
Gaj finishes his haunch of meat, and while still chewing, he says plainly.
"For your troubles, and in direct relation to what we can assume is danger, the offer on the table is one half year's wages of a taskmaster for each of you. We will also line you up with whatever trail rations and survival equipment you feel you may need, free of charge. We would appreciate haste and diligence in your pursuit, and will see you safely out of Raam's gates at first light tomorrow. The trip will take the better part of two days, so make sure you rest well, and help yourselves to any and all of the food on the table at your whimsy." With this, Gaj grabs another leg of meat from one of the plates on the table.
"Any questions? I have other matters to tend and will be leaving shortly, so keep them brief and pertinent."If you feel your character's skills pertain to some of the thing hinted at in the briefing, please make your best guess at what skill would be used to glean extra information from such things and roll away! Also, use this opportunity to ask questions to Gaj before he leaves, and he'll do his best to shore up any information you think he has. Once he is gone, feel free to discuss any ideas, get to know eachother, and we will assume you all eat your fill in the meantime.
Posts
Nature for trip planning=31 O.o
Gaj's mention of the babbling survivors caught the young dervish's attention. To the untrained ear the voice of spirits could indeed sound as gibberish. He was still a novice, however, and would not be able to tell either way, though by the mul's description their babbling could well be the product of madness. Thinking the search for a guide to be more fruitful, he nodded at Gaj's suggestion to visit the low quarter. Maybe he'd have time to explore the place as well...
streetwise for Low Quarter : 1d20+9 26
Lendara
He sweeps his gaze over to Dal. "The slaves are in the infirmary of the slave quarters behind the villa. In charge of the infirmary is a Dwarf by the name of Torix, she should be able to grant you access to the refugees." He closes his eyes for a short number of seconds and exhales deeply before continuing, "As for their condition, there were only minor cuts and bruises found on them as far as anything that could be considered a standard battle wound. It was more the fact that they were riddled with small scorch marks on their arms and chests that concerned us. Their mental wounds are obviously severe, and I am not sure any salves exist that could cure them."
Dal
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
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I didn't want to jump directly into talking to the "victims" as I figured you'd want to pick Torix for some information first.
Gaj, Zerris and the Dervish brothers make their way to the Low Quarter, and after making some twists and turns and finally finding Parju's Graniteworks, it seems luck would be in your favor. Above the entrance to this medium-sized two-story building is a painting of a red circle with a white bird in the center. Upon entering the shop, you see a number of waist-high tables made of large bones, all with various sizes and shapes of stoneware goods laying atop them. Behind a counter built into the wall you see a half-giant man pumping a bellows into what you can assume is a furnace on the other side of the wall. He notices your arrival and grins widely, "Welcome to Parju's Graniteworks! You'll find no finer utensils, tools or weapons this side of the Tablelands! Please, look around, and if you have any questions or are looking for a specialty item, do not hesitate to ask!" To describe this man as a half-giant does not do him a great justice. He would probably be head and shoulders taller than most half-giants you've met, as he is practically stooping to not have his head graze the 10 foot ceiling above you. His tattooed arms are as thick as Raqib's stomach, and his voice is deep, warm and welcoming. Emblazoned on his leather apron is the same emblem you've seen outside, as well as much dirt of a myriad of colors.
"We are not here for you wares," grumbles the dervish, arcing his neck to look the giant in the eyes. "We are looking for information. We have tasked with reclaiming the mine in Right Gauntlet, and it was said that some here might know the nature of the disturbance there."
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
You step from the brightness of day into the almost surreal dimness of the infirmary. A nearly bare room greets you, along with an elderly Dwarfen woman sitting on a cushion, intently scouring a book with one hand and writing on a separate sheet of parchment with the other. She quickly glances up for but a moment to get a brief glimpse of who has entered, her eyes quickly darting back to the book she has been studying. Her writing stops at the same time as the finger she was using to trace the page. She slowly raises her head and locks her grey eyes on Samira intently. They widen but briefly, and she flashes a weak smile, "Greetings. How may I be of assistance?" You finally get a good look at her. She is grossly fatigued, and worry lines crisscross her face. This woman is old and obviously incredibly experienced. Her white hair is tied back in a bun, and her robe is a deep pink color, with a white swath crossing from her right shoulder to her left hip.
Lendara:
Samira:
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Dal, Raqib, Zerris and Hashiq:
The giant folds his arms in front of him, and his friendly demeanor immediately becomes something more like curiosity, "You seek information, not tools? How ironic, for most would view information as a tool. I trust you'll understand that I - along with most in my position - am a busy man, and will have to work while I answer your questions." He turns to the side and begins pumping the bellows again. The sound of air rushing in and out of the device is loud enough that he has to shout to be heard, "I could point you to many a person who could serve as guide, but there are only two people I would trust to get you there without charging you a nawab's ransom: one is an old friend of mine, Halfling by the name of Ge, the other is our old taskmaster, Human by the name of Flint. You'll find the former hawking his ridiculous masks in the circle market, and the ladder drowning his mind in broy by the bucket load at whatever flophouse has the best deal." He stops pumping the bellows for a moment and wipes sweat off his brow. His eyes narrow in concern, "Now, what is this mess about a disturbance?"
"Oh, child, it is terrific to see you again after so long. I'm afraid we'll have to catch up later, though, it seems the two of you have more pressing business." The old Dwarf stands and falters, but regains her balance quickly. "Please, follow me, children." She leads you down a short corridor and down a set of stairs that double back after a short landing. It is much cooler down here, and the air hangs thick with an antiseptic pall. She leads you down the narrow corridor, makes a turn and stops abruptly. She points ahead, slightly down the hall. "There are three rooms along the right side of this hallway, each containing one of the survivors. I'm going to have to ask that you permit my observation, as illnesses of the mind are still something of a mystery to me." She pulls a piece of parchment and a quill from behind her sash, as if eager to take notes on the situation.
You move with her to a point where you can see inside all three rooms simultaneously:
In the first room, you see a young, probably early 20s, human male huddled into a corner. He is bleeding from the tips of his fingers and there are clean channels streaking down his otherwise grimy face. He wears tattered rags, hanging loosely from his arms and legs but fitting snugly over his chest and shoulders.
In the second room, you see a slightly older Mul female, standing less than two inches from the corner of the room, her nose almost certainly wedged directly into the corner. She is wearing no clothing at all and is completely hairless with not an inch on her body bare of tattoos. About three dozen tiny welts mar her back, and they range from healing normally to festering openly.
The third room is chaos. A Mul male paces back and forth, muttering to himself at a volume too low to catch. Upon approaching the ends of his walk, he winds his shoulder back and punches the stone wall with enough force to dislodge small pockets of dust from between the rocks. Scattered throughout the room on the walls and floor are hundreds of small blood splatters, and you can see he is leaving fresh ones with each and every fist he drives into the walls. This man is also hairless, and his arms are covered in the same kinds of wounds you saw on the back of the female. His hands are a wreck of tissue, sinew, blood and bone, almost certainly broken many times over. He seems to not notice the pain.
Feel free to jump on in to questioning one of them. Note that Torix has made no impression to you that they know anything about what happened, who these people are (other than some of the residents recognizing a handful as slaves, and thus assuming they were all slaves) or anything of the like. Some skills will be applicable here to glean additional information, such as: Insight, Heal, general Intelligence rolls and certain speech skills, based on how you want to use them and how you think it may get you something you want. I will leave that last part up to you to decide how your character would act!
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Zerris, Raqib, Hashiq and Dal:
"That is indeed troubling news. It has been some time now since I've been in the mines, and I can assure you, nothing so egregious ever befell on me in my decade of toil. Work was hard, and sometimes people did break, but to go truly insane? And you say this was many folk? Surely the spirits of the earth punish us from time to time for encroaching upon their realm. This could be their work, or even something a bit more sinister. I would be extremely cautious were I you, young men. Carry your wits about you as surely as you carry your weapons, and return safely with good news. Truly, I wish you the best of luck, and if you need any stonework supplies, feel free to return at your whimsy." He presses his hand to his chest and bows deeply. He turns back to the bellows and recommences his work.
Several options now face you. You can head to the circle market and seek out this Ge character, or you can go about in search of some of the more disreputable areas in an attempt to find Flint. Either way, you're relatively sure a guide is something you'll need to actually find this mine, and certainly will be of some use once you've reached the mine.
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
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Replacing the stone jar he had been holding, the smile returned to his face.
"Besides, this trader sounds a much livelier sort."
As Lendara steps up to the cell and calls to the man, he slowly raises his head. He meets her gaze dead on, seemingly in defiance. His look of ambivalence turns into a sneer as he points one of his fingers at her. "WATCHING WATCHING SEEKING FINDING. ALWAYS WATCHING ALWAYS SEEKING NEVER FINDING, NEVER FINDING. WHY? WHY DO YOU WATCH? WHY SEEK? WILL NEVER FIND, CAN NEVER FIND. ALWAYS ONLY DIGGING, DIGGING, DIGGING. DEEPER, DIGGING, DIGGING, BURYING, NEVER SEEKING. DIGGING WATCHING FINDING DIGGING!" Spittle flies from the young man's mouth as he shouts at Lendara. His other hand begins clawing futilely at the ground, as if he were attempting to dig into the stones.
Lendara:
Heal/Nature: There are small scabs riddled seemingly at random from his forearms up to his shoulders, with scorch marks still present around some of them. Whatever caused this was certainly not natural, and for the scorch marks to remain after such a period of time is truly unusual.
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Zerris, Raqib, Hashiq and Dal:
You make your way to the circle market in search of this Ge, and upon walking the area for a few minutes, it appears there is no sign of a halfling hawking masks. Maybe some of the other vendors in the area have an idea on whether he has a shop somewhere else, or maybe he only pitches his wares at certain times of day.
Standing back, she speaks in a voice that is both gentle and firm. "Be at peace, slave. You have served well. We are the new overseers - tell us of your progress."
If the man heard Samira's words, he shows no sign of it. His eyes seem glazed over as he remains seated on the dusty floor, cross legged, and continues his futile digging. Perhaps examining another patient would yield better results?
Samira:
History: As far as what you know of the Right Gauntlet, there is nothing there. Nobody really goes there, nor is it heavily avoided. Truth be told, this was the first you had heard of any mining operations there, but it is no surprise that house M'ke would keep such operations a secret, lest Abalach-Re attempt to stuff her coffers even more.
Raqib, Hashiq, Dal and Zerris:
As you approach the bread stand, you notice this man appears to be slightly more well-to-do than the other merchants in the area. You suspect the lack of customers around his stall probably has to do with the ridiculous prices displayed below the baskets of loaves. He raises his face at Dal, peering down his nose at him. "Surely you must be dense to think that I would lower myself to address the questions of Unclean! Get out of my sight, filth!" He spits on the ground near Zerris' foot, apparently aiming this comment specifically at the Tiefling.
The young psion purses his lips and takes a step forward, his arms slightly extended, palms-up, in the universal gesture for supplication and humbleness. "My friend, we are genuinely sorry for this intrusion. It was never our intention to interrupt you during such bustling business hours," he says, gesturing to the area around them as though it were not deserted. "All my companions are asking for is a moment of your time, and a bit of information... and all I am asking for is one of those delicious-looking boules you have in that basket. I smelled them from the other side of the market and decided I had to have one." Zerris plucks his coinpurse from his belt, loosening the drawstrings. "How much?"
maybe a little indirect bribery to grease the wheels? sander, you're diplomacy trained right? can a homie get a skill assist?
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Also, is that really a diplomatic thing to say? It seems a bit too sarcastic to be considered genuine, but that roll certainly suggests otherwise!
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See good man, the trade of information as an extra with a sale, how can it hurt you?
You approach the room with the female in it and begin speaking to her, but she does nothing to show she can hear you
Lendara:
Heal/Nature: The wounds appear identical to what you saw on the first subject.
Samira:
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Zerris, Raqib, Hashiq and Dal:
The man lowers his head, looks Dal straight in the eye and growls, "Get this filthy street urchin out of my sight immediately or I'll have my slaves get it done for me!"
So, maybe I described him wrong, but by saying he was "slightly more well-to-do" than the others wasn't really saying the others were all poor schlubs. Also, why would a supposedly completely out-of-touch man be trying to sell completely overpriced bread in the Circle Market?
I really, really didn't want to take a huge shit on a Diplomacy roll that high, and I hate to do it, but this guy is either extremely prejudiced against Tieflings, or disguised insults aren't really a Diplomacy roll. Call it about six of one and a half dozen of the other in this situation.