Completed [Play-by-Post] Magic World/BRP: "In Search of the Sorcerer"

[Grimgravy]

A small smile spreads across Rhenmyr's face. "So there are some happy endings in the stories? Better than I expected! Anything you could tell us about the great tree and its inhabitants would be most welcome."

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

"Well, it looks like we are all going to die if we follow the trail to Oona. Oona sure seems to be cursed, this is the second time she has been in grave danger in the short time we have known her. Is it her lot in life to be in constant danger?"

 

[nikolokolus]

Mab looks at her and says, "While I value your counsel, wise woman of Dinas Dardanii, I will have to tell you that I will follow this lead regardless. I gave my word to Brule that I would find her. And my word is not something I Break easily. I will not abandon another fellow Pict to a possible painful death. I cannot speak for my friends here, however, and would not blame them for heeding the advices of one so wise as yourself."

Spoiler

Can I roll toknow what the Convergence is as a Pict?

Spoiler

You, or anyone else who wishes to do so, can either make an INT x1 roll or make an Art (astrology) roll (which you don't have)

 

[Siveon]

Marcán fails to remember any such thing known as Conergence, must've missed out on that lesson on Pictish lore.

Spoiler

Int Check (15) vs [1d100] = 95

"Sadly I stand by my companions. I think we've gotten used to facing less-than-desirable odds, but I thank you for the advice all the same. At the very least we know what we're up against."

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

Cormac was asleep during his lessons. [1d100] = 90 vs LOL

 

[Grimgravy]

Spoiler

Int(13): [1d00] = 0 Djivan taught Rhenmyr jack squat about convergence.

 

[nikolokolus]

Spoiler

Int(13): [1d00] = 0 Djivan taught Rhenmyr jack squat about convergence.

Spoiler

Ummmm . . . 0? Go ahead and re-roll

 

[Wayward Son]

Spoiler

[1d100] = 23 vs 11 Intelligence
Mab doesn't know his own mythos.

 

[nikolokolus]

Spoiler

[1d100] = 23 vs 11 Intelligence
Mab doesn't know his own mythos.

Spoiler

This is not common knowledge, even for a partly trained Drune. This is a piece of specialized local knowledge related to astrology/astronomy.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Spoiler

Ummmm . . . 0? Go ahead and re-roll

Rare favour of the rng.

 

[L'ennui]

Urash's eyes gleam intensely at the Druness's tale. He echoes his comrades, his enthusiasm coming across clearly in spite of his thick Acadian accent. "I for one can scarcely pass up the chance to investigate such a mysterious, nay, cosmically portentous occurrence! The highest masters of Kor's academy would kill for such a momentous blessing! And besides... Brule has been an staunch ally. I shall not desert him or his kin lightly."

 

[Grimgravy]

Spoiler

Int(13): [1d00] = 0 Djivan taught Rhenmyr jack squat about convergence.

Spoiler

Ummmm . . . 0? Go ahead and re-roll

Rerolling the glorious 0

Int(13): [1d100] = 44

 

[nikolokolus]

Rioná nods at all of your words of solidarity and her demeanor seems to soften somewhat, "Well all of us should be so lucky to have friends as stalwart as you all, but I'm not sure what use I can be to you . . . aside from that business one of your kin needs proper burial I take it?" She cranes her neck and looks across the village toward the common house, where your horses are tethered. "Bring him to me and I'll see to it that all proper preparations are made according to our traditions. At sunset I will cremate him on a pyre outside of the town walls if that is agreeable to you?" She glances at Cormac, "You are an Arawnite are you not? I couldn't help but notice your torc of office, you can assist me if you wish."

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

"I will assist."

 

[nikolokolus]

"Very well." She says to Cormac.

"With that I leave you to whatever other business you wish to conduct here in Dinas Dardanii. Know this, we have few rules, but none are permitted within the shrine of Cailleach on pain of death . . . I say this because I am beginning to find your presence not intolerable. It would be a shame to have to lash you to a wicker man and set you afire." She smiles faintly. "Oh . . . and before you go, I suspect you'll want to talk with Solon in yonder tower. He's a strange outsider like you all. I'm sure he's starving for news of the wider world and I doubt he'd ever forgive me if I didn't send you his way."

 

[Siveon]

Marcán's face visibly panics at the thought of immolation. "Yes, well, the feeling is mutual. I'll make sure to convene with Solon, I can understand the feeling of being stuck in a village for a bit."

 

[Grimgravy]

"This Solon may have useful insights. Lets be off."

 

[nikolokolus]

It's a short jaunt from the shrine to the dilapidated and tumble-down looking tower at the edge of the village. As you get closer you realize just how close the building looks to imminent collapse; blocks have fallen from the merlons overhead, great heaps of moss and ivy cover the base, and a set of rickety wooden steps, that appear half-rotten lead up to the cracked and warped wooden door of the tower's entrance. One of you carefully walks up the steps and raps loudly on the bronze door knocker set in the middle of the.

A muffled yell erupts from within, in heavily accented Pictish, "Get out of here, you damn urchins! I'll not fall for your juvenile pranks this time!" You rap on the door again, and after several dozen seconds and a good deal more shouting, the door is flung open and a wild-eyed man, haggard and wan looking, gazes unsteadily back you.

He strikes an unimpressive figure with his simple, and filthy, brown robe belted at the waist with a length of rope, but his face gradually changes from anger to flustered consternation. His awful salt and pepper beard hanging in wispy tufts around his three chins, quivers as he speaks. "Who in blazes are you?"

 

[Siveon]

"Greetings sir. Are you the one who goes by the name of Solon? My name is Marcán, and we are travelers from faraway lands. The Druness Rioná sent us here, said you might want to hear of the comings and goings of the people beyond the pictish."

 

[nikolokolus]

He raises his bushy eyebrows in surprise at Marcán's words, and then looks at each of you in turn, "Oh . . . pardon my manners, I thought you were those little brats come to put another dung heap on my stoop. Travelers eh? Well I can see that just by looking at you. I haven't seen such a motley crew since . . ." his voice momentarily trails off, before he lightly coughs and continues, "Well . . . since a long time ago. If you have news then come in, I was just completing a new batch of spirits. Kick off your boots over in the corner there and have a nip, and tell me what brings you out to this godsforsaken patch of cold-hell."

 

[Wayward Son]

Mab chuckles, "Well, for my part, this gods forsaken cold hell is my homeland. I found these folks wandering, and since our goals at the time lined up, I joined them. As for their reasons for being here, I'm as curious as you are."

 

[L'ennui]

"Well met, friend. I am Urash of the city of Kor, whose mighty walls and towers pierce the sky in distant Acadia. I traveled here on an... academic fact-finding mission."

 

[ERYFKRAD]

"I'm Borric of the steppes. As for why I come this far out my lands... it's a longer story than we may have time for."

 

[nikolokolus]

The elderly fat man's eyes twinkle with mirth, "Stop me if you've heard this one before. 'A Kurgan, a Pict and an Acadian walk into a wine house . . . ' Oh, I can see from the look on your faces that you have have heard that one before." He coughs a little, shaking his jowls, "Urash you say you come from Kor, I spent a long winter there a long time ago, studying at an academy. Tell me, which Academy are you pledged to, and why by Biera's cold teets did they send you to outer Pictland?"

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

Cormac sighs at the old fat guys attempt at a joke, then mutters. "Well, at least our reception here was better than back at Koren Ghul's tower."