Town I: Estwatch

[Keehnelf]

Lifestyle Obstacles:

Agrom - 0 - Sick, Injured
Harlan - 0 - Exhausted, Injured
Raizenbrayne - 1 - Exhausted, Sick, Injured

[Q.Q Elf]

Lavender watched the wizard leave the Baron's. She heard about the adventurers in town, and the wizard was easy to spot. Always one of those old crow bastards when trouble's about.

Lavender is not sure if she should bash the wizard over the head with a rock now, and try to take his place amongst the adventurers he likely just screwed over, or if she should bide her time before being rid of him.

She sighs, and resolves to interact with him first. Maybe she'll smash his skull later.

"Excuse me. You look like you are in need of healing. You smell like it, too. Not that I was offering to help you with either of those, storm crow. I know your kind, I do. You fly off towards trouble, to pick the carrion from corpses."

Declining to extend a hand in greeting, she introduces herself to the wizard. "Don't look so sour, storm crow. I'm Lavender. High Priestess of the Blackblooded. And I know a ticket out of this sh.t town when I see it, I do. I'm as much a carrion-eater as you."

[Simon]

Harlan cocks a startled eye at Lavender. Carrion eater? I should think not. We might not eat like princes on the road, but Raize and I mananged to whip up some delightful pickles just today! And what ticket are you talking about? Raize? Are you seelling tickets for something? Are we conducting guided tours into Damring?

[sulldawga]

What does Agrom know of the Blackblooded?

[Keehnelf]

Imagine every bad tale a child has been told about a gypsy over the course of history, add a heavy dose of hubris and some demon-worship to the mix, and you've got a sense of the folk tales told about the Blackblooded.

Never by anyone who's seen or met one of them, of course, always second- or third-hand, and the institution itself, known formally as the Universal Order of Divine Alignment, has a pristine record of rooting out the worst offenses of its members, including dabbling in demonology and trafficking with the Elder Powers, often in the context of spectacularly elaborate public trials and executions.

[Simon]

Is this knowledge that only Ag, as a local would have?

[Keehnelf]

Those who come from somewhat more metropolitan areas are less likely to have heard the pervasive folk tales, as they're largely relegated to the country folk who don't know any better, whereas the institution of the Universal Order is a part of everyday life in the cities. So decide for your character based on that what his exposure would be

[Simon]

Harlan recognizes her garb as that of the Universal Order, but the "High Priestess of the Blackblooded" bit strikes him oddly. He seems to remember hearing some drunken yokels blathering on about the Blackbloods or somesuch several years ago in Fourspokes (Harlan's Busy Crossroads Hometown), but he can't be sure. His eyebrows ratchet up a notch.

[Q.Q Elf]

Looking at the odd little halfling, Lavender replies, "I wasn't being literal. Do you take me for some sort of crow, like your wizard, here? We don't actually eat the dead, you know. We eat of the living, and only on... why, is it today already?"

She flutters her eyelashes at the little man. "Why, you look positively scrumptious! Have you been eating well? Perchance, many apples? I do so love the scent of apples. It reminds me of growing up on daddy's farm..."

She trails off, sensing that she had best move along to another story. "The coach I hired to come to this town required tickets... something High Priestess do. You wouldn't understand, with your peasantry and, oh, charming little ways. The baron was not very receptive to a temple for the Blackblooded. Now, I'm stuck here, after giving my last coins to help the poor, mute, orphans who live in a hidden place..."


She smiles pleasantly at the end of her tale.

[Keehnelf]

Since I promised Q.Q an adventure hook for coming in after the party had started, here it is:

A Lawful Wizard by the name of Nidraith once made the mountains to the north his fearsome home. He erected a massive tower of stone from a crumbling mountainside using his magical power and retreated there to perform unspeakable experiments in the name of submission to the Powers of Light and the common good. He died almost a century ago, slain by old age as is the wont of his type, or perhaps by the malice of one of his creations gone awry.

Before his death, however, Nidraith committed many black crimes, not the least of which was the overthrowing of a regional Temple of the Universal Order, from which he absconded with a number of potent artifacts of the dark lady, stowing them away in his foul lair.

The Intermediary Proctor of Harmonious Dignity Deathlok Middenstein (known among the populace as "Proctor Derek"), your immediate supervisor in the Universal Order, has informed you that a promotion within the Order and your choice from a selection of dangerous one-of-a-kind scrolls will be yours if you recover the Staff of Infamy, one of those artifacts of special interest to Derek and which he has employed powerful divination to confirm the location of, from the highest chamber of Nidraith's Tower. And anything else you find along the way is yours for the keeping.

[Simon]

Harlan's eyebrows, already seemingly at their apex, inch impossibly closer to his hairline and he takes half a step backwards, his hand going instinctively to his sling-pouch. The half-smile which had hung on his lips at his original jest is nowhere to be seen.

Lady, I don't know you, and while I'm partial to riddles, I don't think they're suitable introductions, so let's perhaps start again, and this time we can all speak plainly. My name's Harlan. I eat well enough when I can, but prefer pears to apples. A ripe quince will to in a pinch as well, though I find they're better as cider starter. While I admit to being charming, I suspect that I might understand a good deal more than you'd expect, given a proper explanation. What is it exactly we can do for you?

Harlan shoots a glance at Raize and Ag as if to say Do you lot know this madwoman?

[Q.Q Elf]

A look of seriousness transforms Lavender's face.

"There is a wizard's tower, north of this sh.t-hole. It's full of treasure, which you look like you need. Thankfully, he's dead, the wizard of the tower. One less wizard scum in the world. Before he died, the wizard stole artifacts from my Order. A staff. A ring with diamonds. A golden crown. A golden broach. Several silver pieces of dinnerware.

"I must recover the items for my Order. You look like you need things to steal from the dead. You should join me. I actually am a healer, and I can help keep you alive out there. It'll be great fun!"

She winks at the halfling when she finishes speaking.

[Simon]

Harlan blinks several times, thinks briefly of the thing about the orphans and the eating of living flesh, then thinks for a bit longer about the paltry bag of coin in his pocket, then thinks for a very very long moment about Crobart and the finger-hammer and a sack of gold of a suitable size. The furrow in his brow relaxes and a warm smile grows across his lips.

Harlan Wax, at yer service. What was that bit about the ring with the diamonds? he says garrulously and extends a hand upwards.

We had a thing with a Pilgrim and a terrible horrible demon and an orb of some value, now broken, but I think that's the kind of thing better put on a back burner for a bit, right lads?

[sulldawga]

Agrom looks at Lavender with a mix of disgust and... no, it's just disgust.

Seems to me any High Priestess ought to be able to get her own help from her own people. Asking us for help makes it sound like it's a dangerous job and you don't think we'll be coming back. Or you plan on making sure we don't come back.

Agrom taps on the picture of the Pilgrim on his shield.

How's your god feel about you hanging out with the faithful of another god? Can't be good for your reputation, can it?

The fighter rounds on Harlan. And what about you, getting all greedy? You need gold and you're willing to just forget about the Pilgrim and Ythric? Why don't you take my gold from the Baron and give me the Pilgrim's sword? Best you don't draw any more attention to yourself from him, if you're gonna run off with any old priestess and chase some coin.

I can't think of any reason why a Lawful fellow like Agrom would have anything to do with a Chaotic like Lavender but if Harlan and Raiz want to convince him, I suspect he'll go along, if only to protect his friends.

And I'm serious about buying the sword if Harlan thinks 2d of gold is a fair price.

[Keehnelf]

Oh nice, this I like.

[Starbeard]

Raizenbrayne is caught very by surprise at the accosting. He looks to the other two to gauge their reactions, wondering if nobody told him they were expecting somebody. As the priestess talks at him, Raizenbrayne looks her over, a noticeable 'ick' factor creeping over his face as her position and order dawn on him. He's seen chaotic priests before, even had to help in the menial tasks of an emergency banishing ritual when a particularly egregious one managed to summon a demon inside the tower. Smart people don't mess with this lot—hell, they don't even trust their own kind.

However, in his surprise all he can manage in response is a meek, 'Er, em… how do you do… ?', followed by drawing back next to Agrom, content to let his warrior friend's scowls and Harlan's curt diplomacy to speak for them. He tries his best to look like he doesn't take the priestess very seriously.

Presently, as the conversation moves in the direction of wizard's towers and magical treasure, his attention is seized, for better or worse. He listens to Lavender's story with assiduity, though his repulsion and dread of having to deal with a jingoist practitioner of the filthier side of ethereal matter cannot be hidden from his expression.

He turns to the others and pulls them aside, speaking under his breath. 'I wouldn't doubt there's a pile of things worth having in that tower, but I doubt we can trust everything about her story. Hey! Don't get me wrong,'—he pleads against Harlan's exasperation—'I need some hard magic metal as much as you do, but trust me, clerics without scruples are bad news. I've just got a very bad feeling about all this.'

What does Raizenbrayne know about this Nidraith character, and his tower? Would he have heard a different version of this story?

[Keehnelf]

If the name Nidraith were mentioned, he would probably know something, but as it is the info is "there's a wizard's tower near here, let's go loot it".

If you had the count the number of wizards who'd knocked over a Universal Order temple that was engaged in wrongdoing, you'd be standing around a while.

[Starbeard]

Fair enough!

[Q.Q Elf]

... but Lavender doesn't want to share secrets or tell the whole truth!

Lavender looks at her audience, and closes her eyes for a moment. "What else do you need to know? I'm feeling generous. You know, with the orphans and the 3-legged puppies. I am doing my best. Can't you meet me part of the way?

She gestures around, sweeping everything around into whatever she will say next.

"None of these... kindly, good people serve the Blackblooded. Does that make me upset? Do I cry in my pillows at night? No! I push onward! Determined! Unbreakable! A natural leader, and an inspiration for all. Yet humble, and vulnerable, too."


She looks at the wizard with a mixture of revulsion and comprehension. "I know your kind, wizard. You know the things we can find squirreled away in that tower will eclipse the value of whatever goblin sh.t trinkets you will find in the dirt, or whatever you were headed towards. All it takes is that oh so clever wizardly mind of yours... so superior, aren't you? Are you going to listen to caution when there are magical secrets to find?

"Or is it... Oh! what is that delightful smell in the air?

"A roasting chicken. I love chicken! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!"

[Starbeard]

'Brayne lets his bewilderment leak out the corner of his mouth to his companions. 'That settles it: crazy. Barking mad. I thought the Librarian was bad enough, but this takes the cake—this sort turns batty with alarming regularity.'

His mind settled, the young wizard readjusts his pack and extends a cold hand. 'Well, "High Priestess" Lavender, it has been most—fateful—to have met you. Raizenbrayne, Who Is Unforeseen, as superior as you say he is, must take his leave, for he is both tired and anxious to sell some wares before the day is out.' Turning back to the others and seeing Harlan's solid attempts at appearing polite, he adds, 'Your call, as always, but don't say I didn't warn you,' and walks off to try and sell of the loose gear he didn't use last time—his trip to the healer was more expensive than he had anticipated.