Sand_Dragon

Nice work!

[[

@Nonsense have a great break, man]]

Tyr

Roll = 2

Ryn

Roll = 3

---

"The Merchant himself," Ryn murmurs to himself, contemplating the name for a moment.

"Yes, the Merchant!" says the mysterious stranger. His eyes glitter under the shadow of his hood. "Rumored to be dead! Rumored to be the wealthiest man alive! Rumored to be the devil himself! But of all these rumors there's an important truth - my friend pays, and pays well."

Ryn continues his train of thought. "It almost seems too convenient. Then again, the Merchant must have eyes everywhere, I suppose." He gives the sword-handle hanging impossibly from Tyr's belt a glance. Such a weapon could be useful someday, but it has attached itself to the mercenary, apparently. "It's your decision, Tyr."

Tyr considers the offer. The meeting with the captain is later in the afternoon, and any... oddities... could well delay them. However Vercci's equipment is famed; it's for a good reason he equips the armies of the great Merchant Lords of Italy and Europe. And Tyr knows that when such a powerful man makes an offer - even through an apparent errand boy like this strange man - he does not take well to refusal.

"Take us to this warehouse, then let us see what sort of bargain we may make."

"Excellent!" exclaims the stranger.

Tyr holds up a cautioning finger. "I must warn you," he says, "we do want to keep to our engagement with the Captain later on in the day. This shan't take too long, shall it?"

"Hardly," says the stranger. "I know my friend's representatives will know the worth of your artifact, and bargain for it accordingly."

Cassandra stands. "You two go ahead. I'll see to my sister and our wounded friend; then I'll see what I can do about getting ourselves out of this city."

***

The man leads Tyr and Ryn through the winding streets of Genoa. Their passage is taking them back to the docks, and half an hour's walk is enough time to get there. [2, 3] Though Tyr does not notice anything strange, Ryn manages to catch a glimpse of the mercenaries from the inn, shadowing them with surprising efficiency. Soon Tyr is alerted to them as well. They do not look as though they are going to attack, seemingly content to follow.

A short while later, the stranger opens a large door in the side of a dockside warehouse and leads Tyr and Ryn inside. "My friend's representatives will speak with you in here," he says. "As for myself, I have business to attend to in a different part of town. Do Vercci a good deal, and he shall reward you!"

With a swirl of his cloak, the man walks off, leaving Tyr and Ryn alone in the warehouse - except for a man at a table, scribbling on a sheet of vellum. The cavernous warehouse is filled with amphorae, chests, and bundles of goods, but it is the crates - crates that must carry some of Vercci's famous stock - that draw their attention.

The sallow man at the table, old and frail, glares at the pair over his pile of accounts. "Good day," he says. "I assume you are here on business the Master. Of course, he will not be here personally, but I am in all respects his arm here in Genoa. What business do you have with me?"

___________

Kurojin

---

Roll = 2, 4, 1

___________

Kurojin draws himself up. "Let's make haste," he says. He looks out the window and tries to identify a clean avenue of escape, [2] but finds none. It will have to be the way he came, then. "We must move quickly and quietly, if possible."

"We'll have to do something about your wounds, sir," says the girl. "I suppose that can wait."

[4] Kurojin and his new companions manage to make their way out the window without any unfortunate incidents like the last one. The hollering of the lizardmen and the smell of death and burning thatch (and flesh) rises through the air, pricking the dragon man's sensitive nostrils.

Quickly the three make their way down the road, the opposite direction from where the lizard men's path of destruction leads. There is another village in this direction according to the girl, and perhaps it will offer some kind of harbor.

[1] After some travel, Kurojin feels a sharp pain in his side. The wound has reopened itself and is bleeding freely.

Perhaps not the best of things to happen at this time.

Tyr

Roll = 3

Ryn

No roll

---

The potentially nasty business with the watch concluded, Tyr returns to the table and turns to Cassandra.

"Should we inform Sophitia of the events that have transpired here, and what we have learned?" he asks her. [3] A wary eye on the rest of the taverns' occupants, he notices that the group of mercenaries has abandoned all pretense of eating and are now half-heartedly concealing their attempts to listen in.

She furrows her brow in thought. "I think it'd be best if we let her rest, for now. I doubt she and Lysander will be in any shape to move any time soon, and they should be safe enough here." Cassandra leans towards Ryn and Tyr. "While I don't like the look of these people much," she whispers, "I'm not looking forward to leaving the city the same way we came either. The red giant that waylaid us on our way into the city could still be there. Although with any luck Sorel ran across him too."

Tyr nods. "I suppose we should have enough time before the meeting to finally get rid of all of this sodding extra gear."

"And get some new gear as well, perhaps," Ryn chimes in. He has a point. Their gear is rather noticeably battered, and will need either some caring for or a decent replacement.

"Gear?" says a voice. "I can help with gear."

It is the mysterious stranger, standard issue for any tavern. For someone in a heavy cloak, he moves with surprising speed and stealth - the three at the table did not notice him until he was close enough to speak.

"And who are you?" asks Cassandra.

The stranger smirks, stroking his pointed beard under his hood and drawing a long-stemmed pipe from beneath his cloak. "A man with friends. A man whose friends value precious artifacts rather highly," he says, indicating Tyr's belt.

Tyr looks down. It looks as though the ghost sword has reattached itself to his belt again. A most curious weapon. Its mystic powers cannot be discounted.

"Such a weapon would cost many, many pistoles - far too many for even a 'merchant's daughter' to carry about," he says, with a wink at Cassandra. "Even with such stout bodyguards as these. But perhaps you could trade it to my friend: he is a man of wealth and taste, who prizes such things - and has arms and armor in such store as to beggar even the merchant princes of Venice. He retains a warehouse not far from here."

"And who is your friend?" Cassandra says, a note of caution in her voice.

The man looks around the tavern theatrically, as though attempting to ensure that no one is listening (and thus ensuring that everyone will be listening). "My friend is man named 'Vercci'. Perhaps you have heard of him?"

As a mercenary, Tyr knows the name of course, and even Ryn has heard inklings - Malta in the past has had dealings with this man. Vercci is the man known as the Merchant of Death - a man wealthy enough to rival kings in power. He is an arms dealer, and supplies many of the armies of the merchant princes of Europe. If this man truly is a 'friend' of Vercci's, then perhaps a trade could be achieved - but Vercci is also a very dangerous man, and his reach is long. And Domenica did mention he had ties to Sorel...

"What say you, friends? I can take you to his warehouse - it is not too far from here," says the man, puffing on his pipe. "Lesser merchants will take the store of gear you've acquired in your... adventures, but a weapon such as that which hangs at your waist should go to no other man than my friend."

Perhaps splitting up might help - clearly this strange man is interested in Tyr's mysterious acquisition, but cares not for the pile of other gear they have amassed. Someone else might be able to take a cart and pawn off the individual armor and weapon pieces.

___________

Kurojin

---

Roll = 1, 6, 6

___________

Kurojin scoffs at the shard's words. "And I of thy complains, If thou wants me to fight then thou should heal me," he says snidely.

The shard seems to laugh. "CREATURE, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME? I AM NO HEALER. I AM WAR. I AM TERROR. I AM POWER. HEALING IS THE LEFT HAND PATH. I AM THE DESTROYER, AND SO TOO WOULD YOU BE IF YOU BUT TOOK ME. I CAN REMAKE YOUR SHATTERED BODY, BUT NOT RESTORE IT. SUCH IS BEYOND MY SCOPE. THEREFORE TAKE ME AND PLACE ME IN YOUR WOUND, THAT WE MAY BE ONE."

The artifact's words ringing in his inner ear, Kurojin attempts to make his way into the home. He gives the pendant a brief glance - what dim life it showed earlier remains. [1] He attempts to get in through the window, but trips and plants himself on his face. The huddled figures start.

"Don't come near!" says the slightly larger one. It is another youth, of small frame, with fear in his eyes and shaky hands on what is definitely a sword - a sword that is now angled at Kurojin. His clothes are modest but well kept - perhaps he was moderately wealthy. "I swear, I'll cut you down if you come near, barbarian!"

The smaller figure cowers. Up close, it looks to be a young woman, younger than the other, hiding behind him and gripping the dagger like a talisman - so tight her knuckles are white.

With a rumbling, the shard stirs again. "OR PERHAPS I COULD HEAL YOU, DRAGON LORD. BUT I REQUIRE... SACRIFICE." It speaks no more, but its meaning is clear.

"What are you?" says the girl. "You don't look like one of them, but..."

"It's a monster, is what it is," says the boy. "You saw what they did to the militia. I won't let that happen to you."

Kurojin draws himself to his full height. "I wish thee no harm," he says soothingly. "These beasts are my enemies."

[6] Perhaps it is something in his voice, or in the commanding nature of his dragon forebears, but the youth lowers his sword. "It seems so unlikely, but... I believe you."

[6] "He isn't like them, is he, Brand?" the girl says. "You're... not an animal. Can you save us?"

The boy shakes his head. "There's just one of him, and heaven knows how many of them. And look," he says, indicating Kurojin's wounds. "He's barely holding together as it is. He might need our help just as much as we need his."

"Still, we can get out of here," says the girl. "That winged demon out there - no offense - won't stop until everything is burned to the ground. I wouldn't like to be here when he gets around to burning this place."

She turns to Kurojin. "We're not from here, you see. We were just passing through on the way to the shrine of San Giorgo in Genoa."

"Looking to get supplies," interjects the young man - Brand. "I wanted to be a knight, see a knight of Saint George. Chances of that are looking dim. We took to hiding in here when the fighting turned for the worse... I should have stayed out there."

"Hiding isn't going to get us anywhere, though," says the girl. "Can you help us?" she says, addressing Kurojin. "We might be able to break through - out to the city, though I don't fancy our odds on that road. Better if we followed the road to the next village, it's not two miles from here. We could warn them, too - I think we're the only survivors."

The cacophony from outside is getting louder. It's only a matter of time before the capering horde reaches this area of the village.

"MY OFFER STILL STANDS, DRAGON LORD. WHY SADDLE YOURSELF WITH THESE MANLINGS? FEED THEM TO ME AND I WILL RESTORE YOU TO HEALTH."

"Well?" says the girl, hope welling up in her brown eyes. "If we make a break for it now at a good pace, we could make it before the greater part of the horde finds us."

[[

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

No roll

---

Considering Tyr to have the situation mostly under control, Ryn sits back down and returns to his breakfast - keeping an attentive ear and eye on the conversation. Cassandra leans forward intently. "I think that was well handled," she whispers to Ryn. "Although it looks like we've got ourselves an appointment with the guard-captain now."

Tyr shakes his head in response to Domenica's inquiry. "Unfortunately, the lord is still alive. However, he has made a threat upon our lives, so we intend to repay him in kind."

The guardsman who spoke before cocks his head. "Aye, well, you'll have to get in line, now, won't ye? The man's got a list of wrongdoings as long as the Strada Vittori and a whole host of men and ladies willin' to cut his throat so much as look at him."

The mercenary considers this. "Has he truly caused so much pain to the people of this city? Why has nothing been done about this? Or have there been failed attempts?"

The female guardsman, Domenica, points out the people in the tavern. "There's money in working for him, as you'll see here, and these free lances over here aren't the type to be trifled with. You're a mercenary yourself from the looks of you," she says, giving Tyr a once-over. "I've got a pistole that says you were just one of many he's been bringing into the city lately. He was planning something big, Sorel was, something much bigger than his nightly... preoccupations."

This is true - while Tyr's original job was to guard Captain Stavros' ship from bandit attacks, that rapidly translated into an invitation into Lord Sorel's mansion. He asks Domenica what the job was.

"Heaven knows," she says, shrugging. "There was some mention of retrieval of some artifact - a sword, or some such, with the problem that the sword in question had a formidable bearer - the Azure Knight, they call him, and they say he can't be killed. Lord Sorel wished to put that to the test, perhaps by flinging as many blades as he possibly could at him."

At the mention of the name, Cassandra visibly pales. She quickly hides her surprise, however. The name is not unknown to Tyr and Ryn, either - but the Azure Knight is supposed to be a myth, or a legend - like every other multicolored knight out there.

Domenica looks to her companions. "I suppose that's all then. Lord Sorel's got powerful allies - that's why nothing's been done about him, and besides, what can the common folk do against someone with all that money and power? He's connected to all sorts - ties to the Merchant of Death, Vercci, to all sorts of sellswords and rogues, there are even rumors that he's scuffled more than once with the dread pirate Cervantes - there's a name you'll be hearing plenty along this coast."

"We'll be off," says the guardsman to her left. "If I were you, I'd keep my appointment with the Captain."

"He can be right ferocious when he don't get his way," says the other.

The three guardsmen leave by the tavern's doorway

___________

Kurojin

---

Roll = 6, 4

___________

His enemy disarmed and disabled, Kurojin steps back into the tree shade. [6] His natural coloration makes his cover almost perfect. There is little chance that he will be spotted by the capering, hooting lizard men.

Slowly, he makes his way into the village, coming more than once within ten feet of a lizard man. It appears their senses of smell and hearing aren't the best - more proof that rather than natural beings, they are horrid deformations of nature's proper way. Perhaps they were once men, perhaps they were once lizards. Either way, they are monsters now.

The shard flares up. "ALL OF THIS SNEAKING ABOUT TESTS MY PATIENCE SORELY, DRAGON LORD. TAKE MY POWER AND THESE FOUL BEASTS WOULD BE AS WHEAT BEFORE A SCYTHE. LIZARD WHEAT, AS IT WERE."

The Pendant of Hephaestus begins to glow dimly as well. As he rounds an as-yet unburned home, Kurojin spies through the window a pair of huddled shapes, one clasping what looks like a sword and the other, whose hands are slightly smaller, with its hands on a dagger.

[if you meet anyone from wolfkrone, of course]

Tyr

Roll = 4

Ryn

Roll = 5

---

"Of course, good captain," says Tyr in reply to Captain Lorenzo's demand. He stands, drawing himself up to his full height. "I acquired it from the slain corpse of a warrior, near the Lord Sorel's mansion. I saw need to acquire a new shield, as my previous had been damaged moments before while I and my compatriots were slaying a group of fiends who made an attempt upon our lives."

The mercenary pauses, a look of faux complexion on his face, and turns to Ryn, "That makes, hmm, how many foes that we have dispatched since we met, Ryn? And to think, we've yet to find a real challenge."

[4] The Captain's mustache veritably bristles and his face goes red. "Sir, I would appreciate it greatly if we were to take a walk out behind the inn, to continue this conversation."

The young lady beside him pipes up. "Erm, sir, I'd really prefer it if we weren't to get into any... conversations so early in the day."

One of the guardsmen nods fervently. "Seeing as we haven't had breakfast yet, and my wine's cooling right quick, sir, maybe we could delay the... conversation? This man's not bothering no one, sir, and he looks very... talkative."

The Captain gives his men a look of disgust. "In my day, a good private talk was just the thing for an empty stomach! Loosens the limbs, sharpens the mind! I've had good conversations with plenty of people over the years, though they weren't up for a second one any time after that." He lays his hand meaningfully on his weapon, a simple but efficient looking arming sword.

Ryn gets to his feet, hoping to forestall a possible fight. ""Sir, I apologize for my companion's unjust anger. We have had a long night and have just awoken. I suppose with the way you were talking, he decided to play along - However, what he says is true. We were attacked by some ruffians last night. Perhaps the same ones that burned the Lord's mansion. Tyr's shield was claimed as a battle trophy."

"Ruffians?" says Captain Lorenzo, twirling his mustache. He glares fiercely at Cassandra. "And this one had no part of it, to be sure?"

She smiles her most winning smile. "I'm a merchant's daughter, sir, visiting Genoa to see my family. My sister is upstairs. Sadly, my dear brother was waylaid by those bandits the other night, and lost his hand. Thankfully these two were there to give us aid."

"See sir?" says Domenica. "He took that shield off one of the vagrants responsible for the burning of Lord Sorel's mansion. I really don't think there's any need for... conversation outside."

The Captain harrumphs loudly. "Very well, then. I would still like to have a look-see about you people; this hardly sits right with me. If you saw the bandits responsible for the burning of the Lord Sorel's mansion, then you can aid our investigation. Come to the Constabulary at five of the clock this evening. Good day to you!"

Captain Lorenzo stomps out of the tavern in high dudgeon, tromping off into the street. The various occupants of the tavern watch his progress - some of them with a wary hand on their sword belts - and then return to their business.

The guardsmen wait until he is out of sight from the window. The young lady, Domenica, turns back to Tyr. "Listen - just between the three of you and us three, what did happen last night? You had to have been near the mansion to get one of those shields."

She smiles slyly. "Don't worry - we're not looking for 'conversation', just answers. I'm personally hoping Lord Sorel is dead and gone in that pile of rubble."

"Aye," says one of the guardsmen. "A right terror, he was. The Captain won't believe none of it, says it's all fishwifery and rumor, but I seen him at night, stalking the streets and preying on all what get in his way. We're just lucky we never ran into him on a patrol, otherwise-" the guardsman draws his thumb across his throat. His meaning is clear.

___________

COMBAT!

Kurojin:Called attack - Lower Torso

Attack: 4 - 1 (called attack) = 3

Defense: 2 [hit!]

Damage: [cosmetic damage]

Kurojin dashes at the lizardman, bringing his undamaged sword around in a vicious sweep at the creature's stomach. The attack whiffs, however, tracing a gash in the lizardman's armor but dealing no other damage. The lizardman howls and winds up for an attack.

Bobo the Lizardman: Strike this winged fellow down with your axe!

Attack: 1

Defense: 5 [parry!]

Hooting wildly, Bobo brings his axe around for a for a strike of his own - but the winged dragon man parries the blow neatly with his badly pitted and corroded sword, notching the blade and sending sparks flying. Bobo staggers, leaving him open for a counter!

Attack: 2

Defense: 2 [hit!]

Location: 6 [head]

Damage: 3 [injured]

Roll to stay conscious: 2 [failure!]

Kurojin raises his sword and tags the lizardman with a ringing blow to the skull, striking him mainly with the flat. Stunned, the lizardman falls to the ground, unconscious.

---

The lizardman lies facedown in the dirt, blood seeping from a wound in his skull. The capering and hooting of his band can be heard from where Kurojin is standing, but they are still focused on their looting and have yet to notice him.

___________

Tyr

Roll = 6, 3

Ryn

Roll = 3, 4

---

The innkeeper has clearly been cutting corners, having regained his business savvy over the night. The meal is hot, but unseasoned, and the beer is very clearly watered down and has flecks of heaven knows what in it. Possibly beard stubble, possibly dirt, and possibly even those tiny animals the doctors are always talking about that cause disease and madness.

[6, 3] As Ryn and Tyr fall to, they overhear snippets of conversation from the table occupied by members of the Guard. The big Captain appears to be berating his Guardsmen - who look short on sleep and rather cantankerous. In what can only be described as "a very quiet yell", he seems to be chewing out his men for something.

[3, 4] A few minutes pass. It becomes clear that the reason for the Captain's anger is the fire the previous night. Several shields and weapons, he says, have been found, and the corpses that were left at the burned mansion of Lord Sorel should have been a big enough clue for the searchers. Shields similar in nature to those left on a few of the corpses, he reasons, are very rare in Genoa, and since Genoa itself isn't on campaign it should be easy enough to find warriors bearing similar shields.

"For example," roars the Captain, "take that fellow over there!"

He points a finger directly at Tyr. "Why, that shield he's wearing on his back looks exactly like one of the shields on those unknown warriors at the Sorel house! All you have to do is find shields like those, and you've found the culprits!"

Uh oh.

"Erm, Captain Lorenzo?" says one of the Guardsmen, a youngish looking woman in the Lombard chain and surcoat. "That shield."

"Yes, Domenica?" the Captain barks.

She stutters. "It's just that..."

"Spit it out, young woman!" says the Captain. "I haven't all day!"

"It is almost exactly like the ones at the manor," she says. "Down to that Grecian letter on its boss."

The Captain turns slowly and eyeballs Tyr from head to toe. He downs his mug of beer, wipes the suds off his mouth with the back of his hand, and gets to his feet. "So it is," he says loudly. "So it is!"

He gestures to the Guardsmen to follow him. The two men groan audibly, while the woman visibly shrugs and rolls her eyes. They get to their feet as well and form up reluctantly behind Captain Lorenzo.

"You!" says the Captain. "You there, I say, the fellow with the gaudy shield! The one with the lady and that Wolfkroner!"

He seems to have taken Ryn's bearing of a Wolfkrone shield as marker of his allegiance. Perhaps this can be spun to their advantage?

"Sir," says the Captain, putting his hand on his sword. "I demand to know how you came by that shield! It is a matter of great import!"

Cassandra looks to Ryn and Tyr. This might be trouble.

___________

Kurojin

Roll = 2, 4

---

Sword at the ready, Kurojin heed's the shard's advice and swings quickly, attempting to kill this strange creature before it can warn its comrades. [2] The steely edge arcs toward's the creature's mottled throat, but it ducks at the last second, and with the rage of the lizardman people in its eyes, it hollers an ululating battle cry.

[4] Kurojin looks to the the crowd of hooting lizardmen and their leader in the village. None of them have noticed, but now that the creature is forewarned, it doesn't look as though he'll get a second chance. The creature advances towards him and hollers again, brandishing its deadly axe.

"IT WAS WORTH A TRY," says the shard, with the hint of a sneer in its grating mind-voice. "SHOW THIS PRIMITIVE SAVAGE REAL STEEL, AND TEACH HIM THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DRAGONS AND LIZARDS."

ROLL FOR INITIATIVE:

Kurojin = 6

Lizardman = 1

Turn Order

1. Kurojin

2. Bobo the Lizardman

___________

I don't think anyone in this thread is trying to convince anyone else, though. Most of the posts have a disclaimer like "this is just my personal opinion". People are just voicing concerns they've wanted to voice, that is all.

What anyone who hates or loves anime mods' date=' or even those who are indifferent need to remember is that Skyrim is just a game set in a 'fantasy' universe which in all cases anything could happen.

[/quote']

This is actually a dangerous justification, since it equates 'fantasy' with 'complete disintegration of verisimilitude'.

EDIT: Although verisimilitude, I have to admit, is really the province of those who prefer logically consistent universes (or at least universes whose rules do not, upon surface inspection, at least offer any outstanding logical contradictions. For example: take Hokuto no Ken or Street Fighter. These universes are not realistic, but have verisimilitude: yes, people can throw fireballs and make dudes explode with their martial arts powers, but these abilities are dependent on in-universe laws that act the same whenever they appear, like the Satsui no Hadou consuming the user with evil intent unless they are empty-souled etc. etc. That is 'Lore', and it's why people got their knickers in a twist over the Raul Julia SF movie and the Kristin Kreuk Chun-Li movie: because they violate 'Lore'.

However, there are many people who react virulently to the idea that people do not treat the 'Lore' as reverently as they, themselves, do. This is normal and human. Can you fault them for freaking out over anime mods? Probably, but always remember that we, as a species, have an unfortunate tendency to be reactionary and violent towards that which deviates from the perceived norm - as anime mods for a heavily Eurocentric CRPG would supposedly deviate.

I think it would be incredibly awesome if you had a separate Asian race' date=' and their own capital city or faction. separate.[/quote']

There already are "Asians". Akavir is where the katanas in Oblivion come from.

They're just not in the game, per se, since Akavir, like Black Marsh, is one of those areas that have yet to become visitable in an Elder Scrolls game.

[first, you're gonna have to succeed on that roll to cut the poor lizard-dude's head off

And second: twenty-seven (maybe, might be more, might be less), plus their winged firebreathing leader lizard]

Oh, yeah, well, I know that feel. I absolutely hate it when someone just slaps an armor set in a case somewhere, it doesn't feel right if it's something that would fit in properly with the world.

Well, there's always the Enclave trooper mods, which add in Enclave remnants in their FO3 armor, which you can take off their charred corpses after you're done.

And it ain't an armor mod, but I know at least one of Bingle's melee .esps adds his psycho awesome melee weapons to NPCs, which means you might end up dueling Super Mutants wielding rocket sledgehammers.

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

No roll

---

"I shall gladly accompany you downstairs," says the mercenary. He wonders what the Paladin is up to, though given what he's seen of the good knight, he's probably laying in bed and sending tendrils of divine energy to probe every crack of the inn.

Not that that's a bad thing, no sir!

Ryn pokes his head out through his door and rejoins Tyr and Cassandra. Seeing that they are about to leave, he joins them. "Good morning!" says Cassandra. "We were just about to head down."

Downstairs, the tavern is bustling with business. A number of members of the night's watch, looking rather disgruntled and soot-stained, occupy the tables, clustered around a big man who wears a captain's cape, with the Lombard Cross of San Giorgo - a red cross on a white field - emblazoned on the back. From his body language he looks to be in a rather sour mood.

The innkeeper's son and what looks to be his mother are rushing around the inn, serving hungry customers. The innkeeper appears to be beckoning to a table where a hot breakfast has been set for Tyr, Ryn, Cassandra, and Sophitia.

Although it is early in the day, as is inevitable in all taverns a mysterious stranger in a dark hooded cloak is sitting in a corner, smoking a pipe. There is also the standard complement of off-duty day guards, a few hard men in leather armor who look to be mercenaries, and a salty-looking woman with a pair of pistols hanging at her belt.

"You'd think there was never a fire here," says Cassandra in hushed tones. Where did all these people come from?"

___________

Kurojin

No roll

---

Kurojin paces away slowly, swords drawn - though the weight of his fire-warped sword is noticeably off balance compared to his other one. The quick action he took on the mountaintop definitely saved his life, so perhaps a single blade is not so large a price to pay. Though it is definitely going to be ineffectual in combat.

As the lizardman draws closer, it halts. "SKREE?" it inquires, sniffing the air curiously. It seems to be looking at Kurojin's exposed wings and horns; clearly this one - though seemingly soft like a human - has traits in common with his rough kind.

"ODD. OR PERHAPS NOT SO ODD." says the shard. "YOU ONLY RESEMBLE THEM SUPERFICIALLY, DRAGON LORD, BUT ENOUGH TO GIVE IT PAUSE. SEIZE THE ADVANTAGE. STRIKE OFF HIS HEAD!"

"SKREE!" hollers the lizardman, clearly getting agitated. It licks blood off its chops and cocks its head to one side. Now that Kurojin has gotten a better look at it, it becomes clear that it is not entirely unintelligent - it is wearing crude hide and metal armor on its chest, and wields a primitive but wicked looking axe in the other. "SKREEEEEEEE!"

It's also making a godawful racket.

___________

[hey, just be glad I'm not going into gratuitous detail about the fact that Kurojin has yet to find a pair of pants and is technically still *swinging free*]

[Have Tyr and Ryn armed up? It's not necessarily a de-facto thing]

Tyr

Roll = 3

Ryn

Roll = 5

---

Ryn gets to his feet and sends forth a tendril of power, searching for his allies. [5] In retrospect, doing so might have been the act of a paranoiac, but it never quite hurts to be safe. He explores the inn, though the presence of the ruby ring - and its dark power - interferes with his senses somewhat. Sophitia's electric yellow presence and Tyr's gray one are still in the area, as is Cassandra's - though there is something strange about hers. The innkeeper appears to be up and about, while the hall downstairs appears to be filled with bustle and chatter - no doubt regulars gathered for breakfast and to discuss the queer events of the previous night.

Tyr, too, is up and about, and well-rested. Long months on the campaign trail have made soft beddings unnecessary for one such as him, but the lack of necessity does not mean that it is unappreciated. He heads out of the door and finds Cassandra in the hall.

"Good morning," she says cheerily. She does not look as though she is having a good one - Tyr detects the faintest hint of dark circles around her eyes, a sure sign of a lack of sleep. "My sister's still asleep, as is Lysander."

"Is there any business we need to take care of today?" Tyr asks. At 9 of the clock it might be a simple matter to pawn off the goods they've acquired, or find a collector with a fat purse.

She nods. "I think we'll be able to sell off our excess gear now, although I think some breakfast might be in order, first."

"And what then?" asks the mercenary. "Is our plan to make leave of this place still in the works, or has the plan been altered overnight?"

"We might have to consult Sophitia about that," Cassandra says. "Although I think she'll be glad to be quit of this city for now. Earlier this morning I heard some travelers talking about lizardman and bandit attacks, and also someone talking about needing guards for a merchant caravan to Venice - that's a journey of half a week or so. It would be a good cover story for us leaving Genoa, assuming the authorities haven't noticed us yet."

Cassandra stretches languorously and yawns. "I'm going to go downstairs and ask around. Are you coming with me, or do you have other plans?"

___________

Kurojin

Roll = 4, 1 [critical failure]

---

Kurojin draws his cloak tightly around himself and proceeds down to the village, the sun's rays rapidly heating his body. His wounds appear to be properly holding, even with his haphazard first aid attempts the previous day, but the pain is still present - a dull, numb ache that never ceases to remind him that he had recently been torn open by a weapon.

As he nears the village, it becomes apparent that something terrible has happened here. The smoke trails he noticed earlier are in fact emitting from the burning roofs of cottages. Animalistic howls and the screams of the villagers can be heard at this distance. It appears the lizardman bandits have come to play. [4] From this distance he can see that one lizardman is at the center of the carnage. He has great feathered wings and brandishes two battle-axes. He is busy setting fire to some poor soul while his band of lizardmen watches, hooting in glee.

[1] Kurojin's cloak snags on a branch and pulls free, exposing his true nature to the world... although it would appear that nothing is around to see him. But suddenly he realizes just how exposed he is.

A guttural roar catches his attention. A hulking lizard-man has spotted him. It drops what appears to be the remains of a small child and makes its way towards him.

The shard suddenly flares up in heat and color, warming Kurojin through its cloth wrapping. "I HOPE YOU ARE NOT PLANNING TO TRY AND PREACH TO THIS ONE, TOO, DRAGON-LORD. HE DOES NOT LOOK MUCH LIKE ONE FOR CONVERSATION."

___________

[will post turn in a bit, got caught up in work]

Probably the one good thing about MKII was the way they developed Shao Kahn's motivation - trying to be good enough for Shinnok. It was actually subtle in a movie filled with enough ham to feed a city for a month.

[TIME WARP??? TIME WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARP okay no not really.

Also I'm going to assume no-one slept in their armor because that's just physically painful.

Also nothing much is going to happen in this post, because it's a new day, time to decide things.]

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

No roll

---

The distant chime of bells from the Cattedrale wake Ryn and Tyr from their fitful slumber. The sun is high in the sky. Nine bells - it's three hours from noon. It might be easier to tell the exact time if the High Horse Tavern had a clock or something somewhere, but those infernal gadgets are expensive, and possibly also of the devil.

There is no sign yet of either Cassandra or Sophitia. Perhaps Lysander has awakened from his possession.

At any rate the streets outside are noisy with marketplace bustle; it would appear to be a market day. The sound of peddlers hawking goods and arguments over prices can be heard even in the cloistered upper rooms of the tavern.

There is also a smell of food in the air. 9 of the clock is a bit late for breakfast, but taverns get all sorts. Some of the Watch might be in after the night's shift, or perhaps some of the tavern's other guests (at least, the ones who stayed after the previous night's turmoil) are tucking in.

___________

Kurojin

Roll = 3

---

Kurojin attempts to quickly leave the mountain area. However, it is not easy with his wounds. [3] Thankfully his attempts at haste do not aggravate his already damaged body, although he could have very well reopened his injuries. Medical attention might be in order.

The sun rises as he makes his descent from the mountain where the dark-skinned wizard so rudely stranded him. It is quite a good thing that he managed to avoid the worst of the wind-chill, but now he will need aid, resources, and perhaps a sense of direction. There are a few smoke-trails from the foot of the mountain, and he can see a few thatched roofs. Genoa still shines in the distance.

Perhaps there is a village down there. He would however do well to be cautious, keeping in mind the trouble the men of the countryside have suffered greatly at the hands of lizardman bandits, and are not too particular about the differences between dragon-men and lizard-men.

The shard has been dormant these past few hours. Who knows when it will stir again.

___________

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

Roll = 6 [welp], 3

---

Ryn calms himself. This is but an extension of the lesson taught him by the masters of his order; instead of letting the power flow into Sophitia, he must let it flow through her. The archaic masters of Malta, Sir Lionel in particular, liked to use this technique en masse; with enough Paladins available, the healing divine energy became the hammer of the heavens. Unfortunately on certain occasions the focal Paladin was grievously injured, and on one memorable occasion the Paladin in question (one Sir Ducard of Britanny) exploded spectacularly, showering everyone in a hundred yard radius with his holy organs.

But Ryn is just one Paladin. That can't possibly happen here.

Right? Right.

Both arms outstretched, he places his palms on Sophitia's shoulders and pushes. [6] There is a tremendous upswell of divine energy, with phantom tracers of what might be lightning, or what might be the onset of a really bad migraine. The electric light pulses out from his core and singes his surcoat [1 damage to armor]. The energy causes his bracers to bulge as it passes through his arms [1 damage to armor].

The light pours itself into Sophitia. She shudders; the energy is clearly a great deal for her body to handle. Her bracers and greaves bulge at the joints as Ryn's did, and her toga tatters slightly, but she has a focal point - a lightning rod. The power concentrates itself in her sword and radiates outward brilliantly. She closes her eyes.

[3] Ryn watches through an instinctive squint as she traces an arcane sigil in the air, one clearly recognizable, the other not. The one he recognizes is the same as the sigil on her sword - Ω -. He keeps the memory of the other one, in case he ever needs it some day.

With a scream of what sounds like righteous anger, Sophitia brings the sword down, the blade of which veritably shimmers with electric light. To Ryn's surprise, she plunges it neatly into Lysander's chest. There is no blood; the sword has become purely etheric. Like ink in a pool of water, strange tendrils of red energy burst from the wounds in Lysander's neck and the stump of his arm, coalescing into a shimmering sphere roughly the size of a man's head.

Without opening her eyes Sophitia withdraws the sword from Lysander's chest, brings it around in a circle, and cleaves the sphere in two. The monstrous energy dissipates like a bad dream.

She shudders again and collapses back, flexing her hand. Her sword has returned to normal.

"That," she says, panting with exhaustion, is the purification art. I don't think I'll be able to do that again for... a long time."

Sophitia stands shakily again. "Thank you, Sir Ryn, for your help. I will rest now."

She leaves the room and heads out into the hall. The sound of another door opening and closing can be heard.

*

"Thank you for your help," says Tyr to the newly obsequious innkeeper. He turns to Cassandra. "Shall we retire for the night?"

She nods. "There's been so much loss recently. I think rest would be fantastic."

The innkeeper perks up. "My lord and lady, you may have your choice of any room in the upper hall, completely gratis. The staff are away now, but meals will be furnished in the morning."

Cassandra favors the innkeeper, who still seems to be positively greasy with terror, with a smile. "You should get some rest too!" she says, and heads on upstairs. After a second or so, she returns and requests the innkeeper for heated water.

In retrospect, after the day's hard fighting and running about, everyone smells rather strongly - of sweat, blood (their own and their enemies') and a myriad of other things. Not to mention the rather glaring bloodstain - and the small hole - Cassandra's clothes bear, mark of her little encounter with Lord Sorel.

She turns back to Tyr. "And thank you, you and Sir Ryn, for everything. You've saved my sister, me, and what's left of the holy warriors. We owe you so much, and we've only just met."

Cassandra smiles at Tyr and returns to the upstairs hall, leaving him alone with the innkeeper, who is giving orders to a young boy who has mysteriously appeared from behind the bar to heat water and acquire a needle and some thread. Probably his son.

___________

Kurojin

No roll

---

"There's no need for that," Kurojin says, quietly admonishing the shard-voice in his head. "This one's just a pawn to them."

The dragon-man returns his attention to his captive. "'tis my final question, Raimo. Art thou sure thou wishes to continue the search for this 'treasure', even if it cost thy life?"

"'s Raimol, m'lord," says the youth dully. "An' if'n you'd been born in a pigsty with nuthin to wear an' less t' eat, riskin' yer life fer a chance at gold wouldn't seem so odd, now, would it?"

He seems to be getting snippier. The wind picks up again; an owl can be heard on the wing. The creatures of the night, formerly so quiet, seem to be stirring once again.

___________

By "to the game world", do you mean on NPCs and suchlike? The only ones I can think of off hand are Body by Race (which isn't technically armor) and the Brotherhood Combat Armor mod, which replaces all the silly recon suits in the Hidden Valley bunker with the Brotherhood Combat Armor from FO2, complete with rivets.

Also I think Powered Power Armor gives PA users actual underarmor, but I'm not too sure.

I'll throw in a couple of clips, both from The Killing of Satan. Yes, the title is a spoiler.

/>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrnZlTBjQC0

/>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZGmFrwgjhw&feature=related

I can't help but laugh every time I see either of these.

Tyr

Roll = 2, 4

Ryn

No roll

---

"Of course, Lady Sophitia," Ryn says, taking a seat next to her. "Whenever you're ready."

She nods. "What I'm about to show you is a secret between the holy warriors and our Gods. Now that there are only a few of us left, watch closely."

The holy warrior draws her sword and wraps her pendant around its hilt. She lays the sword across Lysander's neck. "Here," she says. "I need you to channel your power through me. Added to mine, it should be more than enough to do what we need to do. Are you ready? Summon all of your power."

*

"Well perhaps then, my friend," Tyr says, "Rather than stumbling blindly, we should retire for the night, or at the very least return to the inn, and begin anew in the morning."

Cassandra nods. "I don't like the feeling I'm getting out here. It's just a hunch, but we'll probably be safer indoors."

[2] Tyr steps back through the door ahead of her. After a few seconds' pause, Cassandra follows him. The innkeeper is there again, wringing his hands. "Back so soon, lord and lady?" he cries. "That is wise of you, nightly excursions in fair Genoa are hardly the safest."

Cassandra looks at him intently. "The bodies of the men who killed my friend Adrastos*, where are they?"

The innkeeper blanches. "They are gone, my lady; I had the watch cart them away. They were a strange group; a wealthy merchant captain, a soldier, and a butler."

She nods. "And Adrastos?"

"In the churchyard, my lady; a Priest said the last rites for him gratis. A strange dark-skinned man, very tall, he was."

That business taken care of Tyr, inquires as to where the group might find suitable pawn shops, banks, or perhaps a smith of some sort.

The innkeeper gives him a thoughtful look. "I have a friend who might be able to smith for you, depending on the scale of the work; he is passable at the repair of damaged weapons. The pawn shops are mostly in the merchants' quarter near the Cattedrale di San Lorenzo, and the banks may be located near the docks. Of course, I doubt any of them are open at this late hour."

__________

Kurojin

No roll

---

"A man's choice is his own, thus he can not blame any other but himself." Kurojin says to the voice. Raimol gives him a queer look. As the dragon-lord already knows, no one but himself can hear the shard's voice.

"Now then human, I ask thee two final questions." Kurojin turns his attention back to his captive. "First, what exactly is this treasure thy speak of?"

"SHALL I PEER INTO HIS MIND FOR YOU" suggests the shard. "YOUR HEAD IS A CRAMPED SPACE, AND I WOULD LIKE TO STRETCH MY LEGS. SO TO SPEAK. CERTAINLY THIS YOUNG ONE'S MIND IS MUCH EMPTIER."

After a moment's thought, the youth replies. "I don't rightly know, m'lord. Some th' mates think it be a heapin pile of gold, or precious stones an jewelry, or summat, but we got plenty o' gold an jewelry searchin' for the thing. Lady thinks it's some kind a talisman, like them what the barbarians use to protect 'emselfs from ball an shot, and th' Boss is close-lipped on it."

__________

*Technically, Ryn did that, but what the innkeeper doesn't know won't hurt him.

[i wasn't kidding though - the term "murder hobos" has been around for almost a decade now! It describes the tendency of adventurers to kill and loot the hell out of everything. Kind of like Ryn has a penchant for doing. Also for some reason Kurojin is acting like a paladin now. A fire-breathing paladin. Or a preacher with wings but no underwear. And a bunch of terrible wounds. Also I made an error earlier; it's Lysander's entire forearm missing, not just at the wrist.]

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

No roll

---

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir," says Ryn, patting the innkeeper on the back reassuringly. He flinches from the Paladin's heavy hand.

Ryn turns to face Cassandra and Tyr. "I'm going to go upstairs and tend to Lady Sophitia's and Lysander's wounds. Perhaps the two of you should deal with the selling and procuring of goods?"

This seems like a good plan of action, though as it is now dark it might be hard to find someone willing to buy all of this heavy gear. Since Genoa is not currently on campaign, one would be hard-pressed to find soldiers looking to fill out their kit.

The salable gear is of good quality, but hardly the kind of thing that the collector of arms and armor would purchase, except for the mysterious ghost blade, which Tyr's practiced eye estimates could sell for incredible amounts of money - several thousand pistoles, which would be quite cumbersome to haul around. Carrying a loan on them at a bank might be better, but bills of honor might not be as useful as hard coin.

Tyr considers all of these things. "Very well, shall we take our leave Cassandra? Let us see what we can scrounge up. I do wonder how much this sword," he says, gesturing to the phantom sword hanging stubbornly at his side, will fetch."

"Where to, though?" says the young woman. "We might be able to find a few pawnshops open this late..."

They step out into the street. What shall it be? Mercenaries might be found in taverns, but wealthy collectors will be harder to find.

"We might have to be careful," Cassandra says. "A city's streets at night... not the best place to be wandering around blindly.

*

Ryn makes his way back upstairs to the quarters. Lysander's bloody stump has already made its mark on the bed-sheets. Sophitia is moodily fingering her pendant as Ryn enters the room.

"Welcome back, Paladin," she says as he returns. "I've thought of a way we could drive out the darkness in Lysander. I can teach you the purification art when we have time, but this should be enough for now. Are you ready to help me?"

____________

Kurojin

Roll = 2

---

Kurojin stares at his captive with disappointment.

Thou art blinded by thy greed," he says. "And it shall lead to thy doom. What stoppeth thy leader, or the pirate called Cervantes, from slaying thee and thy mates so that the 'loot' will only be theirs?"

"Well sir," he says, somewhat confused, "If'n we kills the boss, then ol' Cervantes won't know, will he? An' there's more of us than of him, see, which makes things fair."

"Art thou sure that this treasure is one that can be shared?" continues the dragon man. "This treasure thou seekest may be one that shall bring thee not riches, but rather misfortune!"

[2] Raimol shrugs. "Money is money, way we see it, and there ain't no truth to curses and spooks and - beggin' your pardon, sir - dragons, or if'n there were, there ain't now."

"THERE WAS A MAN I KNEW ONCE WHO SPOKE LIKE YOU, DRAGON LORD," the shard chimes in. "HE DIED ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, AND ALL THE WORLD FORSOOK HIM, FOR HE DID NOT SEEK POWER. WEALTH IS AS NOTHING. VIRTUE IS AS NOTHING. FOR WITH POWER YOU CAN TAKE WEALTH, AND FROM POWER FLOWS VIRTUE LIKE AN UNFAILING STREAM. THIS IS FALSE MORALITY, DRAGON LORD, TAKE CARE LEST YOU LOSE YOUR WAY.

"

____________

[OOC: Kuroshu, why does Kurojin now talk like Lancelot?]

[in which double sixes are rolled. I fear the day you roll the number of DAS BIEST. The beast. Satan. The prince of this world. The great beast that is called dragon. You ken well what I mean.]

Tyr

Roll = 5 + 1 = 6

Ryn

Roll = 6

---

Cassandra blanches very slightly. She has caught his meaning, but the moment calls for control - a card-playing face, as the Earl of Sandwich would have it.

Ryn seizes the moment as he returns downstairs. "Fire damage, you say? Well, certainly you must be insured, sir... I would think it would be illegal to run such an establishment without such insurance."

He notices that the innkeeper is eyeing the pouches of gold hungrily. The innkeeper notices that he notices. Everyone is, in effect, noticing everything. The tension in the air is thicker than lard, and rather rancid to boot. Ryn presses on valiantly.

"After all, the source of the fire is unknown... You should be able to repair your building and more with the money," [6] Perhaps the innkeeper will be persuaded to let them leave with their money. "But if the insurers knew that you were paid off..." the Paladin trails off, letting his words hang in the air.

Surreptitiously, he nudges Tyr in the side.

Catching the Paladin's meaning, Tyr simply crosses his arms and visibly plants his feet more firmly. His stern gaze meets the innkeeper's flitting, shifty one. [6] The poor man seems to realize for the first time that he could very well be dealing with that bane of man and monster alike: Adventurers.* In retrospect, a mercenary, a paladin, and two mysterious ladies does not constitute the average traveling group, and whatever their business with the severely frightening Lord Sorel is, or was, it is clearly none of his.

His face is that of a man who has just become aware that he has managed to close the door of a cage trap while he is still in the cage. And he does not seem to like it one bit.

"Ah..." he says. He is suddenly unable to look straight at any of them. "Well, perhaps payment could be... deferred, in the meantime, until your lordships and your ladyship settle the bill? In the meantime," the man says, returning behind the bar. "I believe that these thing are yours?"

Behind the bar is the gear that Ryn had brusquely looted from their fallen foes. Most of the gear is above munitions grade, and might fetch quite a price. The sword of that great armored soldier especially looks like a fine piece of craftsmanship.

ITEMS:

Black Bracers 2x

Black Breastplate 1x

Black Greaves 2x

Greatsword 1x

Rapier 1x

___________

Kurojin

Roll = 4, 3

---

The dragon-man takes this little revelation to heart.

"Tell me more about thy boss and this lady; dost thou dislike them?" Kurojin pauses. "Enough... for thee to betray them?"

[4] The youth looks up at him in a mix of fear and curiosity. This is a very bold question to ask someone. Even the shard is nonplussed.

"DRAGON LORD, YOU ARE A TEMPTER, BUT YOUR SUBTLETY IS LACKING," it hollers in Kurojin's head. "HE IS A WEAK AND COWARDLY MAN, A SPECK, A BUG, BUT EVEN A BUG BALKS AT SUCH BOLD-FACED EFFRONTERY. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE WORLD OF MEN, THAT MAKES YOU ASK SO FORWARD A QUESTION?"

"Wee-ll," says Raimol. [3] He is obviously balancing his options carefully. He is obviously terrified of Kurojin, but he is more terrified by the prospect of dying. "'s I said, me mates are in it for the loot. Couldn't care one whit for Cervantes, pirate captain's only dangerous inna sea, an' this ain't the sea. We'd want t' get at that chest of his, see, an' I don't mean the one contains 'is heart. Could get me mates along with me; don't like th' boss much to be honest. Could find that treasure fer ourselves, when old boss is dead."

"... WELL DONE, DRAGON LORD," murmurs the shard. "THE BOY IS A FOOL. PERHAPS HE WILL SERVE YOU WELL... BUT HE IS STILL A MAN, AND MEN HATE YOUR KIND."

___________

*four hundred years later, the term "adventurers" would be replaced by the more current, and appropriate term, "murder hobos".

[That's partly because of the problems of PbP - because of the time difference between the players, it's a better idea to have more events or more dialogue in a single post, otherwise pacing goes to a standstill]

Tyr

No roll

Ryn

Roll = 3, 2

---

"Let us go, then," says Ryn. " We must make haste if we wish to leave before anyone begins to draw connections between us and Sorel." The Paladin stoops and [3] with a little trouble, hoists the fallen Lysander onto his back. The man probably weighs more than him, but thankfully he is not wearing any heavy armor.

"Perhaps," he says, straining a little, "We should head to the inn first? We can treat his wounds there." He gives Sophitia a look. "And we can let you rest. Someone else must assist the Lady Sophitia though," he says, looking at Tyr and Cassandra.

Tyr nods curtly. "Gladly."

He offers his hand to Sophitia. She takes it, and he slings her arm around his shoulders. The height difference and chainmail armor might make things a little awkward, but she does not complain. "Thank you," Sophitia says. "For a mercenary, you're an honorable man."

Tyr looks to Cassandra. "Lead the way."

She nods, and the group makes its agonizing way back to the inn.

*

An hour of slow walking later, Ryn sets Lysander down at the High Horse tavern's doorstep. The effort may have sprained his ankle, but it was a deed worth doing. Cassandra knocks at the door.

The innkeeper flings the door open. "My ladies and lords," he cries. "Your friends are injured? Here, here, take them to the upstairs rooms..."

Ryn picks up Lysander in a more comfortable position and takes him upstairs. Sophitia smiles at Tyr. "Thank you for your kindness, but I can help myself from here." She makes her way, proud, but staggered, to the stairs as well.

"About the damage," Cassandra says hesitantly.

"Damage?" says the innkeeper. "Oh, it is a small thing, fires are common here in Genoa, why, just earlier I received news that the Lord Sorel's mansion had burned to the ground. I hope that you were not caught in the blaze, for you seem to have been in or near the area - by the look of the ashes on the Lady's clothes." the man says cannily, his eyes gleaming. "But now that you mention it, compensation would be appropriate." He is eyeing the pouch at Tyr's belt and Cassandra's belt as he speaks, though his gaze seems to linger longer on Cassandra, for different reasons than money.

Tyr judges him with a mercenary's mind for money. The weapons and gear left behind the bar would fetch many dozens of pistoles. The innkeeper seems a greedy man, though his greed is understandable. What is far more troubling is the implication regarding his knowledge of the Sorels encounters... and the hinting of the man at blackmail.

___________

Kurojin

No roll

---

"Sorry m'lord", says Raimol in response to Kurojin's veiled threat. "S'just the lizardmen, beasts is all they are, plague 'pon society an good folks of all kinds. Why just a few months of go, one of 'em, a big one, with a fancy shield 'an axe and these bloody great wings, he goes and burns a village to th' ground. A village! Me granpaps told me 'bout 'em, dragons they were called, he slew a few in his youth. Dragons he said about were bigger though, an'"

Realizing the rather talkative youth is about to go on an absurd tangent, Kurojin tightens his grip. The young man yelps, then fall silent. "That's all well and good," says the dragon-man. "Now what of thy group?"

He gulps. "Nine of us, there are, I shares a tent with three of my mates, and th others are the boss's... he's for Cervantes through an' through, but the rest of us are here for the food an' the gold. Bear's not much of a boss, if you ask me, m'lord, he kicks us around as he pleases an' him and his lady get most of the cash. An' that dog of his, it bites like a bitch, if you pardon the expression."

___________

[i'm not worried about reuiniting you guys, since Kurojin is on a completely different trajectory than Ryn and Tyr, I'm just wondering about syncing up the timeframes. Of course things like selling gear and buying gear can easily be handled during a timeskip, as I'll demonstrate in a bit.]

Tyr

No Roll

Ryn

No Roll

---

Tyr ruminates on these facts. "Indeed," he says, "We should do what we can here, then take our leave."

He gestures towards the sisters. "Perhaps you two have some idea as to what Sorel might be doing?"

Cassandra nods. "His goals are probably unchanged. He wants to gather as many shards of the evil sword as he can. We can find him the way we found him before."

"How is that?" asks the mercenary.

Sophitia gets to her feet unsteadily. "An oracle would help, but Delphi is leagues away from here. We had... help from a noble, a rival of Lord Sorel. That's how we found him and discovered his intentions. He is a Venetian merchant Lord - Geo Dampierre. But I don't trust him."

Ryn regards Lysander regretfully. "So we can't save him?"

Sophitia looks to him. "We can. Lord Sorel didn't have enough time to completely enthrall him - all he could do was addle his thoughts. He still recognizes and trusts me. I could teach you the purification technique, or perhaps over time the enchantment will fade." She frowns and touches the stump of his arm. "This might be the more pressing matter, however."

"Very well," says Ryn. "Let us pawn off the gear left by the dead and leave the city. If our time here is really as sparse as you suggest, then we can reestablish ourselves in a different city. Could we proceed with the treatment after we are somewhere more safe?"

Cassandra looks at Sophitia. "Could we?"

"Of course," her sister says. "We owe it to him to try."

___________

Kurojin

---

Kurojin lowers his sword. "I trust that thou shall not try to run?" he says.

"'m in no condition t' run," says the youth. He begins to move in order to bandage himself up.

"Yes," says the dragon-man. "Cover thy wound, lest it attract the beasts that lurk in these mountains. What had thou fought to receive thy wound?"

"YOU," says the shard snidely. "YOU RIPPED THE LITTLE SOT OPEN WHEN YOU TRIED TO GET HIS CLOTHES OFF TO TIE HIM UP, YOU OA-" it cuts itself off. It seems to have been about to insult Kurojin.

It is right, though.

"I thought 'twere you," says Kurojin's captive. "I wake up, here's this horned beast crouchin' over me, 'm bleedin like a stuck pig, well..."

___________