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Sir William Narramore

"Foul magics," the Paladin murmurs and takes a few steps away from the box. Keyon only grins and watches, transfixed, as the others play their deadly game of chance.

OGRE MAGE wrote: ↑Mon Oct 04, 2021 5:35 pm The fear of the unknown is palpable.

And yet you're gonna make me wait a whole day for the result after giving Feanol's

That's Machiavellian

Elnaerel sheepishly moves to the box next to take her pick from the deck, her emotions frazzled after the long wait.

She feels happy and filled with love after looking at her plaque, the image making her smile as she looks up at the friends and strangers assembled. Please roll a d8 to determine the first PC she notices.
1=Amun
2=Princess
3=Keyon
4=Narramore
5=Keg
6=Wake
7=Luther
8=Feanol

The cleric suddenly falls deeply in love with the first person she sees, willing to do anything to keep them safe from now on, for the rest of her long life.

Not exactly great, but not horrible either. This one was a little different, so I am glad it went to one of our better roll-players.

Slightly less sharp after his last pick, Keg decides to draw again, luckily maintaining his sanity throughout the process this time.

His second plaque is similar to his first, but this time, a lumpy sack appears on the ground at the aggressive fighters feet.

With the initial picks from the group who brought the box back now over, the cleric Wake steps up for his chance at fate.

His plaque looks quite similar to Kegs, and comes with nearly the same results. He doesn't feel any negative consequences, and a mysterious sack suddenly appears at his feet. Of course on an island where money is nearly irrelevant, the two get-rich-quick cards are chosen right away.

Amun walks straight up to Luther after having finished her business with the enigmatic box.

"She is ready to go with him now."

Turns around towards TK.

"Gnome is also coming along?"

Wake

Wake picks up his sack, takes a glance at the contents to make sure it is what he expects and then places it in his backpack. At the same time he pulls out a hand axe. He says, "Thank you friends, that was a fun game. Luthor, if we are leaving in the morning, I am going to go and see if the town-folk need some woodchopped."

Elnaerel

[1d8]=4

Crap. I wanted it to be Keg. He was so kind fashioning that wooden club for her...

But to be honest, Narramore is not a bad match Both have the same alignment, are holy warriors and stuff.

Before I post Elnaerel's reaction, Paladin, tell me that Narramore is at least not wearing his helm

The Princess

She doesn't have to cast anything to feel the magic coming from the plaques. It feels strange, almost alien, like nothing she's ever experienced. "I'm not trying to prevent or discourage anyone from taking a plaque, but I will simply amplify the warning on the box. This is old magic, possibly diety, and most likely a chaotic one. My best guess is that half of these are detrimental in some way, possibly extremely so. The other half may possess rewards that will most likely be just as extreme in order to entice a group to make multiple choices, to the amusement of the creator."

She looks around at the group. "You will all have to weigh the risks and rewards yourselves. That carpet is wondrous, and I'm glad you acquired it Keyon, but I can only wonder what possible negative outcomes would be needed to balance out that boon."

"I'd love to study the box and contents more, no matter the outcome. Good luck."

She hands it back to Feanol and thanks her.

I felt this was the most appropriate time to post this.

I will give folks a bit more time to decide if they will draw or not, then I am really going to start pressing the action on some of these small missions.

Wake

Wake is helping the town folk with manual labor waiting for his group (to explore the unmapped hexes between the cliff and river) to be leaving tomorrow.

Elnaerel

The usually serious demeanor of the elven cleric changes when she smirks looking at the card. "I like it. It's a nice drawing.

I feel... Well. Just well. But apart from that I couldn't say that I feel any-" She stops mid-sentence when she raises her gaze and sees the strong paladin ignoring the card deck, unlike her, loyal to his ferrous principles. She should've done the same. Or not? A strange sensation, like butterflies in her stomach, comes to her when she looks at him who she took for the Princess' bodyguard. She decides to walk towards him, leaving the rest of the people to do whatever they want with the hexed deck.

"He- hello, Sir Narramore. Where are you planning to go? I've heard rumours of some people wanting to rescue some of the lizards that those dwarves are mistreating. Poor animals."

She wouldn't have drawn any card, but I was curious

Did the card disappear or can she keep it?

The Knife

The Knife is going to spend the time climbing trees. He'll bring back whatever he can find: fruit, coconuts, bird's eggs, to provide food for the townsfolk. (He also keeps some of the fruit for himself to extend his meagre rations).

Amun groans and puts her hand to the wound in her side. She tries to find a place to rest and maybe recuperate.

Karaunios wrote: ↑Tue Oct 05, 2021 3:48 pm Elnaerel

[1d8]=4

Crap. I wanted it to be Keg. He was so kind fashioning that wooden club for her...

But to be honest, Narramore is not a bad match Both have the same alignment, are holy warriors and stuff.

Before I post Elnaerel's reaction, Paladin, tell me that Narramore is at least not wearing his helm

Ha! Me too! Can you imagine Keg getting followed around by a woman that 100% genuinely loved him and him not knowing what to do about it? Comedic gold!

Sir William Narramore

The mighty champion of Heironeous has faced down many challenges in his young life, including Stonegut foot soldiers and lizard cavalry. But none of that prepares him for the focused, suddenly interested gaze of the lovely Elnaerel. He opens his mouth to address her and a tinge of pink creeps up his neck and spreads to his cheeks.

"Um...well. Yes. The lizards would provide us with a means of countering the Stoneguts with an equally powerful cavalry of our own. Especially if I could fashion lances from the native hardwoods and teach our militia the art of mounted combat." He clears his throat.