Game Thread - the Hunted

[tibbius]

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The hot red summer sun stands halfway up the cloudless blue sky. In Halakh, high in the foothills of the Beshaaroon, the heat is not oppressive - just a comfortable warmth. To the southwest, in the scrublands where the Beshaar roam, mirages shimmer and the ground is parched. To the southeast and east and northeast, in the prairies upland from the Fire Coast and the Kasht swamp, tall grasses sway in a gentle breeze. To the north and to the west, the mountains loom brown-peaked and blue sided in the haze.

Your head throbs, your eyes burn, and your body aches. You have a thirst like the scrublands. You have just awoken stretched out on the floor of the Withered Hand, a tavern of low repute in the more dangerous part of Halakh. Looking around, you see other winners with whom you spent some time last night rejoicing in the lottery results.

1. You started last night's celebrations with a purse of coins. Now you have a handful. How did you revel?

2. You have two days to get out of Halakh. Some options:

• flee eastward into the farming villages of Kasht, or farther east to roam with the nomadic hunters of the trackless swamps;
• go north through the mountains and down the river to Malakut;
• get into the western peaks where tribesmen and bandits lurk;
• go south and join the Beshaar wanderers who trade in salt and gold scooped from the desert;
• what else can you think of?

What do you do this morning?

There does not necessarily have to be a "group" or "party" though we will keep all our narration in this single thread for entertainment value.

Please use [ ooc ] brackets for out-of-character questions or comments. (See following copied posts for some examples.) Rules questions that require extended explanation, or other non-game stuff, should be in the Rules and Other Chatter topic.

[tibbius]

Korok groaned and slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings as he waited for the pulsing ache in his head to subside enough to think.

...what had he been doing last night? Gradually the memories came back to him. He had declared that his fortune in the lottery merited holding a "festival to Piandra", which consisted mostly of Korok bouncing from tavern to tavern, showing off his luck by taking increasingly dangerous bets from his fellow revelers. He recalled having thrown darts while blindfolded, rapidly stabbing the space between his fingers with a knife using his off hand, and picking up a scorpion's tail with his teeth. Korok shook his head (very gently to avoid further aggravation), amazed at his own stupidity. It was a small miracle that he still had all his fingers! ...wait, did he still have - okay, yes, good.

Amidst the revelry, Korok had also let slip his plans for the following day to a few of his 'newfound friends' after swearing them to secrecy. He had, he had said in hushed whispers, a lover within the ranks of the Jemadar guard in Malakut, who would shelter him within the palace if only he could reach her in time. Therefore, he would be departing for Malakut as quickly as possible come the morrow. It was a complete and utter lie, of course. But, if the story got out to his pursuers (and Korok had told the tale to enough loose-lipped drunkards to be almost sure it would) there was a slim chance that they would actually believe it, and maybe even get themselves killed by the Jemadar guard whilst breaking into the palace. Which would be hilarious. But even if they didn't buy the part about the lover, Korok at least hoped to misdirect them into thinking he was heading to Malakut.

Which left open the question of where Korok was actually going to go. South to the desert didn't seem like such a good idea - he wasn't familiar with that type of terrain while the assassins after him almost certainly were. He could go east to the swamps, but in his time spent studying medicine he had learned of a number of debilitating afflictions one could contract merely by breathing in the fetid swamp air, and had no desire to gain first-hand experience of any of them. That left west, into the mountains, where there was a chance Korok might find tribes sympathetic to a slave fleeing the Halakh nobility.

Ideally, Korok would not be making this journey alone. But who could he trust? Any of the other slaves coming to on the floor of the Withered Hand could secretly be a spy for the nobles. Shaking off the last of the hangover, Korok gathered his things (resisting the urge to gather a few of somebody else's things as well), got to his feet, and took another look around the tavern.

Ah, over there! That tall woman with the white hair, carrying the traditional Malakut fighting spear! She certainly seemed very foreign, not the sort of inconspicuous local who might be a spy. And if he left town with her, it might add to the plausibility of his story of going to Malakut, since Korok assumed from the spear that that was were she had came from, recently. He casually wandered over to her and struck up a conversation.

"Ah, I couldn't help but notice that you carry the Khastok, the great fighting spear of Malakut!" he said, then lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, giving her a sly conspiratorial look. "As it so happens, I too was planning on heading to that fine city. Perhaps we could travel together? If so, let us find somewhere to discuss our plans in privacy. I strongly suspect there's a spy among this lot," he whispered, gesturing at the rabble around him.

[tibbius]

Other past revelers already were moving about. One, a balding man who limped on a twisted leg, seemed unlikely to survive the outcome of the lottery. As he passed out the doorway into the streets, his slumped shoulders suggested his awareness of that probability. Another was a slender young man with effete mannerisms and plucked eyebrows. He was simpering at a thick-chested, heavy-browed man who, like all the rest of the erstwhile celebrants, wore a thin bronze collar from which dangled a bronze square incused with the date of the lottery: 1 First Summer, 603. On 1 First Summer, 604, all those still wearing that pendant would be free citizens of Halakh. The heavy-browed man, who was old enough to be the catamite's father, affected indifference.

There were three others still sleeping - a Beshaari tumbler clad in her silken romper, her kinky black hair like a cloud on the dark arm curled under her head; a man of middle years in a dust-stained linen tunic, who looked Lysorian with his fair skin and reddish hair and beard; and a man unmistakably having Cerulean blood, wearing only a tidy loincloth and the manumission collar, his skin tinged blue and his muscles prominent, his head resting on a pair of boots and bracers.

[tibbius]

I vote for taking along the Lysorian and the Cerulean! Also, that old man seems like a spellcaster, he's gotta be.

Ea groaned softly as she stirred from her slumber, spitting the sour taste of cheap wine and her own sleeping salivations to the floor as she checked her gear. It seemed that she was lucky enough to still hold on to her weaponry, the jade club that had served her well still ticked into the thong of her mail bikini, and her spear still resting in its place upon the wall beside the little space of floor she'd claimed for the night. Checking her coinpurse, the Qushan noticed it was quite lighter than the day before. The slosh of liquor in the tall, dark woman's belly and the sting of a fresh tattoo scarred into her right bicep serving as reminders of the night's festivities.

Standing slowly, Ea pushed aside the roll of furs and considered it a moment, tucking it under her arm. A souvenir that would surely serve her in her journey. The Beshaari nobles of Halakh may have been foolhardy in considering the Qushan barbarian for their little game, she pondered, considering her options. She could surely return to Malakut and seek shelter among the mercenaries there that had abandoned her...or she could take her revenge. But where from there? Surely, the hunt would not end. She would have to put distance between her and her pursuers. The silvery-haired woman snorted as she was approached by the Shamballan man nearby, a coy smile spreading across her lips. "You think it a good idea to travel to Malakut?" She asked, matching Korok's hushed whispers. Nodding her head in no particular direction, Ea adjusted her grip on her khastok and cleared her throat. "We leave now, then. Put as much distance between us and the mountain as we can. The hunt offers no bell. It began the moment we accepted the offer. We gain advantage in the trees, so I say we gather our tribe and run." At her last words, the tall woman looked back to the other participants. "But keep that concern of yours, kinsman."

[tibbius]

The limping bald man - Malakuti, perhaps - had brushed aside the woven linen door curtain and stepped out onto the dry clay street some moments earlier. He might still be recalled if Ea acted swiftly. The Lysorian and the Cerulean slumbered. The burly big-browed man sat on the floor with his naked back against the cool mud brick wall, thick bare arms crossed on his raised knees, brown linen kilt bunched at his waist. He was brown-skinned and hairy, so that a cruel gossip might have said he was a cross-bred Grooth. He continued not to respond to the effete young man, who knelt with one gentle hand touching the older man's arm for emphasis while whispering in his ear.

The Beshaari tumbler stretched herself awake and yawned, then twisted abruptly to her feet and touched her toes. She wore at the back of her waist, through a braided rope belt, a knife ten inches long. Two smaller knives were caught in ribbons at her inner thighs. Her dark skin glistened with the remnants of oil from her past performances.

What do you do? Whom do you approach? Whom do you ignore? We'll cut scene soon.

[tibbius]

Also, am I correct in assuming that today is 1 First Summer 604? I also have a question about the bronze collars we're wearing - do they have a lock that can be picked, or are they fastened by some other means? If the latter, Korok might want to buy/barter/steal a tool to remove them real quickly before leaving the city.

Definitely agree with taking the Cerulean - we can always use more meat shields - but I'm not sure what the Lysorian would add to the party. Judging by city stereotypes, he might be a healer, but Korok already has that skill, and if he's middle aged he might slow the group down considerably, given that a party has to move at the speed of its slowest member. I'd favor taking the Beshaari tumbler instead, for those situations where a high appeal score is needed - or where we need someone nimble and Korok doesn't feel like risking his own hide - even though she's honestly like spy suspect #2 right now.

As for the limping old man, if he's a magician, he's probably not a very powerful one given that he was a slave. He's suspect #1 for being a spy for me right now, actually.

Edit: Note that when we change scenes, as soon as the party gets out of sight of the city, Korok is planning on calling for a halt and explaining his scheme of misdirection, with the hopes of persuading the group to veer off to the western Besharoon mountains instead.


Korok wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of traveling with more people, believing that a smaller group could move quicker and attract less attention (although that might already be a lost cause given the Qushan woman's exotic look, and his own purple eyes). However, he had to admit that splitting night watch shifts between just two people wouldn't leave him much time to sleep each night, and could quickly lead to exhaustion. So, who to pick? Who to trust? He guessed that any competent spy wouldn't spend valuable information-gathering time snoozing away, which would seem to point to the Beshaari woman, the Cerulean, or the Lysorian. (Assuming, of course, that none of them were just pretending to sleep, but Korok uneasily discarded the notion as too paranoid.) Of those, he immediately dismissed the Lysorian for being too old. The other two though, seemed to have potential. That Cerulean man would certainly be helpful to have around in a fight, and with his long legs could probably keep up with the group well. The Beshaari tumbler was probably also nimble enough to make the pace, and could potentially help the group out if a negotiating situation arose with the sort of people who were liable to persuasion by a nubile young dancer. (Of course, Korok's judgement was entirely unclouded by this factor!)

In response to Ea's words, Korok turned and said, "Well spoken, although I'd prefer to keep our 'tribe' on the smaller side - five at most, preferably four - and limited to those who can contribute something useful and won't slow us down. Perhaps I can persuade that Beshaari woman to join us, while you talk to whoever you wish to recruit - although my suggestion would be the man of Cerulean descent." He figured that the tall Qushan woman, who seemed half-Cerulean herself judging by her size, might do well at convincing him.

Korok wandered over to the lithe young tumbler and addressed her in the Beshaari tongue: "Good morning, my fair lady! I commend you on your wise decision to not get quite as drunk as the rest of us," he remarked, chuckling. Her graceful movements upon awakening certainly didn't seem to suggest a hangover. "Let me cut to the point: the tall silver-haired woman over there and I have decided to travel together to increase our odds of surviving the noble assassins surely already plotting our demise. What would you say to coming with us? We'll be setting a fast pace, but you seem agile enough to keep up."

[tibbius]

"Thank you," the young woman replied in Beshaari. She smiled with just the faintest crinkling at the corners of her eyes. "My name is Sima. As you can see, I'm simply a tumbling girl from Mrs. Liddy's Famous Troop. Let's talk about plans in a more private place. Your new friend looks capable. Was she a Jemadar? What are your names? What was your own trade, before?" She moved toward Ea. "Hi! My name is Sima. I like your spear. Were you a Jemadar?"

It is 2 First Summer 603. A day less than a year that you must survive to earn your freedom.

The bronze collars are bent into place. They have a gap at the back. They could be pried off by a blacksmith.

You've seen the Famous Troop perform in the public square before criminals have been committed to Nemmeroth. Their acrobatic dancing is quite captivating.

[tibbius]

Korok smiled back at the woman, and tried to respond to her barrage of questions as best as possible.

"My name? There are some who know me as Korok the Keen. To others, Korok the Clever. But you can simply call me Korok. As for my vocation... I used to be but a humble physician, until I was wrongfully convicted and made to undergo an involuntary career change to brick-layer and stone-hauler. We'll find somewhere quiet to discuss plans as soon as we finish assembling our traveling party."

Did Sima switch to speaking in Lemurian when she addressed Ea?

[tibbius]

Good question about language choice. That matters in this setting.

Sima spoke Beshaari when she addressed Ea. However, Ea has the Sailor career, which could have exposed her to many different languages. She has two additional language slots (1 for each rank in Sailor). Is one of them Beshaari?

The Lysorian rolled over onto his other side. His simple white slave tunic was stained at the chest and waist with patches and streaks of orange brick dust. He had big hands and muscular arms and legs, with wiry curls of auburn hair. He briefly drew his knees up to his chest, then woke. He said something in the Lysorian dialect.

Rolls

"Good morning," Korok heard. He recognized the man's voice from conversations overheard in the water line during work hours. Before winning the lottery, the Lysorian had been plotting to truly escape.

Ea heard a confusing noise that sounded like someone speaking Lemurian with a bizarre speech impediment. She was sure with practice she could understand it. Perhaps she had heard it before while sailing on the Manta.

I wouldn't require a whole language slot be spent to understand a dialect of Lemurian.

[ildu]

The 503 errors on the other forum are indeed a killer. I finally got the chance to get approved and can make a post now!

As for Ea's languages, I suppose I'll pick now! As a sailor, she'd have heard a few languages, but sailing with her crews, let's say she's picked up the Sea Tongue and Beshaari. I'd also wager that since the sea tongue is an amalgamation of Lemurian dialects, it should help with understanding dialects and lend toward Mind checks to understand local tongues like Lysorian, especially if she has landed port in the city in the past.

Ea folded her arms as the tumbling-girl approached, looking down at the petite woman who seemed incessant on learning all she could about the pair. Her Beshaari a little rusty, the large muscular woman flashed a toothy grin and returned her answer in an accented, almost clicking tongue. "You talk a lot, cute girl. Ea is Ea. Ea likes her spear too. Ea is no Jemadar. Ea is hunter. You dance in square. Ea saw when slave to Lord Drajit."

The large woman turned her attention to the cerulean, approaching the slumbering half-giant and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder to stir him. "You. Do you also think of fleeing this place? If you would bare company, come hunt with us."

[tibbius]

Attractive Ea acquaints the tumbler Sima [1d6] = 4[1d6] = 5[1d6] = 1+1 Appeal

Korok the Keen meets Sima [1d6] = 2[1d6] = 3+1 should have been "-1" for his subpar Appeal

There was a brief moment as Korok and Ea each assessed what was going on.


Sima

Sima, the Beshaari tumbling girl, seemed unimpressed by Korok but gave Ea a broad puppyish smile and giggle. The simpering young man and his silently indifferent ... target? ... paid no attention to the two. The Lysorian rolled up to sit cross-legged. "Where is breakfast?" he asked. This time the burrs of his speech caught Ea's comprehension.

The Cerulean half blood grunted and farted, then opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, wrenching his shoulder from Ea's hand and almost striking her lowered face with the top of his shaven head. "Who? What?" he asked in Sea Tongue.

There's a thread for character sheets. If you'd like to keep yours up to date, here's how:

1. "quote" the post where I put your character
2. edit and submit
3. I think that's it.

[ildu]

Taking a swift step backwards as the cerulean's head comes close to knocking out a few of her teeth, Ea sighs and purses her lips, repeating herself. "We're leaving. Come with us, if you choose. It would be good to have another arm to crush the skulls of our pursuers and drive them to their lament." Cocking her head to the waking Lysorian, Ea tosses her mane and winks. "You eat when you feel safe. Daylight breaks, and we hunt. Come or linger. It is your choice." With that said, the Qushan savage returns to Korok and Sima, adjusting the roll of animal skins under her arm and fashioning it into a makeshift cloak, tying one corner of the blanket about her throat to hide her collar. "Have we made our preparations?"

is it safe to assume we should make preliminary rolls for things like going to a Bazaar and purchasing/stealing supplies like food and water or perception checks to assess whether we're being tailed?

[tibbius]

• Please make the following rolls:
• Ea: recruiting roll for the Cerulean
• Ea: recruiting roll for the Lysorian
• Ea: urban foraging roll (and let us know what two things she's looking for)
• Korok: urban foraging roll (and let us know what two things he's looking for)

[Urson]

Kimse

A burly redhead, his hands and arms cris-crossed with many scars, rises out of a pile of rugs and furs near the back of the room. He shakes the sleep from his eyes and checks his gear, then looks around to take in the others.
By the Gods! I'd hoped it was a nightmare...he mutters in Lemurian. His voice is gravelly, and his accent is clearly from the Axos Mountains.

He pulls his few remaining coins from his pouch and finger-counts them. A whore... two- no, three bottles of wine...a meal... I must have been robbed. If I had the time, I'd find the thief and butcher him. But...

He picks up a Great axe and a spear, and joins the others. I hear you talking of escape. Take me along. He doesn't ask.

[ildu]

Dice rolls
Cerulean's recruitment check: [1d6] = 6[1d6] = 1[1d6] = 3 +1 (Appeal)(extra die counts if Attractive counts)
Lysorian's recruitment check: [1d6] = 4[1d6] = 3[1d6] = 5 +1 (Appeal)(extra die counts if Attractive counts)
Ea forages! [1d6] = 4[1d6] = 5[1d6] = 1 (penalty die for city survival tasks)

I'm assuming that's a Mind roll (and that this is where her flaw would come into play). Ea is looking for a few rations to split between the group, and a couple of water gourds.

[tibbius]

The Cerulean's name is Beshur; the Lysorian, Pem-pta. To Ea, they seemed to be rivals for her attention, each stumbling over the other's words as they introduce themselves. Beshur was a pirate, captured in Parsool and sold into slavery to settle his crimes. Pem-pta was a nobleman caught up in palace intrigue and abducted, shipped to Malakut and then sold south to Halakh. She knew no way to verify their tales. She noted that the Lysorian carried a short sword and wore battle harness, while Beshur equipped himself with a cutlass, bracers, and high-heeled (quite large) piratical boots.

Kimse sized up the blue-tinged man and the ginger. They both were well-muscled, but neither was especially agile. Time would tell of their intelligence. They did not impress him. He could take either in a fight - he thought. The little Beshaari tumbler, she was something special. Too bad she wasn't at the Lilandra Temple last night!

Korok proposed they spend the morning seeking provisions and equipment in the bazaar south of Grey God Temple.

Kimse's attempt to forage in Halakh [1d6] = 6[1d6] = 1+2
Korok tries to steal some equipment [1d6] = 1[1d6] = 2[1d6] = 2+4
Beshur forages [1d6] = 5[1d6] = 6
Pem-pta forages [1d6] = 6[1d6] = 2
Sima forages [1d6] = 6[1d6] = 1+1

Urson, you can name two reasonable items that you add to Kimse's trappings. Ildu, unfortunately Ea, Pem-pta, and Sima were not successful. However, you can add three items to Beshur's equipment.

I will post (partial) character sheets for Sima, Beshur, and Pem-pta in that thread soon.

When they reconvened at noon, the pretty boy and the Grooth-ish man had left. Korok did not arrive back at the Withered Hand. They waited an hour and he did not show. Beshur, Pem-pta, and Sima all got restless and looked primarily to Ea for direction and comfort. "Should we follow his plan to go to Malakut?" asked Sima. "That's a four hundred mile walk," said Pem-pta. "I did it last year coming south. It took nearly a month."

[Urson]

Kimse

Kimse's finds: 30' of good rope, a camp axe (too small to be a decent weapon, but useful for cutting firewood, clearing brush, ect).

Kimse rejoined the others. If he has fallen behind, he gets abandoned. I know mountains. If we go there, I can help you all survive.

[ildu]

Upon reconvening, Ea looked to her newfound companions with wary, scratching her head. "Hurm did not favor my hunt. Well met to you, Kimse, it is a pleasure to be here with you. I pray for our success..." Looking to the Lysorian and Sima, Ea noticed their empty hands and clicked her tongue, before noting the satchel Beshur carried. She placed a reassuring hand on Sima's head, and patted Pem-pta's chest. "It seems we were not all fruitless in our endeavors. Good work," the tall Qushan woman said, knocking the Cerulean on his muscled shoulder. Adjusting the jade club hooked at her hip, Ea sighed in thought of Korok and the others. Kimse was right. They could not wait forever. She nodded in agreement. "There is no need to wait. We leave now. The mountains are rough travel, but certainly provide more cover than the open road. We hike, and Kimse leads." Gesturing to the burly ginger headsman, Ea rolled her shoulders and picked up her spear. "Who knows of a way out of the city that uses not the gate? It is sure to be guarded heavily, to thin out the herd."

Ouch, this sucks to be down by one already. Hopefully, Walrus is just busy. Good to have you aboard, Urson! As for the spoils, I'd say Beshur should have found a sturdy rucksack containing a jar of oil and a tinderbox. Spontaneous fires make for good diversions, and what's the use of all this stuff if we can't carry it? a good latrine without a shovel to dig it?

[tibbius]

I suggest a pack for carrying things. The camp axe, or a stick or rock, could be used to dig.

[Urson]

Kimse

Kimse nods. Yes, we should go quickly. Perhaps there is a spot we can go over the wall unseen? The minstrels always have the heroes using the sewers to leave the city- but I don't like that idea at all. He slips the empty pack off his back, If you have something you don't want to carry in your hands, put it here. Just don't expect me to be your pack mule..