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Glass of Water Quest
- Thread starter ExposedBrainMatter
- Start date
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
Sure, I'll keep it in mind if B wins.
hello friend
Arcane
D
Oh, torn... Then again, it can't be that easy, can it? I'm leaning D, but B is tempting.
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 30,021
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
Note that B is actually the choice to turn him in for a reward, A is the ransom one if that's what you guys were going for. Oops on my part.
D. Sail north to Kolodny in Nral.
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
D wins with 3 votes to 2. Golden Boy feat now activating in Kolodny.
Knickerbocker gets loud after overhearing the crew is sailing for Kolodny, so Grizgul chains him back to the wall in the hold and threatens to replace the dirty scarf. He shuts up after that. Now you can hear the rush of the ocean in peace, so you trim the jib, batten down the hatches, and whatever else a sloop requires to get moving. Truthfully Miplastri does most of the captainry, you're just happy to be here. To the north(east)!
A few days later and the harbor at Kolodny is full of warships. Something is indeed afoot, and at first it seems like you might not be able to land, but Miplastri docks the ship and deals with officials after everyone onboard dons some old sailors' oilcloths. Turns out tensions are up between the Nralites and Sudacantis. Lots to do today, and the weather is looking tolerable. Snow. There is a light fall and the streets are coated, but you've felt worse in Greenmarsh. The capital of Nral boasts an old school charm with its many parks and onion domes all crystallized in white.
A few hours later Orgdil has already fenced the entire cargo of stolen beads for 2,000 gold! He gives you your share of 400 gold. Cob's been watching the ship and Knickerbocker, while Su-bostoon and Miplastri went to get provisions. Grizgul turns in the Reaver battle standard to the Kolodny city guard for 150 gold. Flush with skrilla, you head to an antiquarian to get the small fancy sword identified. You pay 100 gold to identify the small fancy sword which turns out to be a masterwork arming sword, popular among Alfafian nobles. It bears no enchantment, but gives +1 to all combat rolls from now on. You'll keep this sword until you can get a nice axe then pawn it off for a pretty penny. You also sell off the rusty cutlass, cheap mess kit, and waterskin for a paltry 10 gold.
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Ratty hauberk
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x9 Rations
x964 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[----X----]
Golden Boy feat activated.
As Grizgul is about to stroll the market, a strapping young lad in a fur hat and coat foists a paper into your hands. You can't read it. He looks eager, and speaks broken Common (I'll spare you typing it all out that way).
"You are one of the sailors from Greenmarsh, yes? My name is Radomir, and I want to join your crew. Here is my contract."
"I'm not looking for any squirts or poltroons, begone knave." Grizgul says.
"Wait! I saw you at the antiquarian's. I am Master Kichsov's apprentice. But I want to see the world. And I-I can do things... let me show you."
Radomir peers into the sky for a short while. You don't notice anything special, but the snowfall has ceased.
"There." he says.
"There what?"
"I stopped the snow."
"You what?"
Radomir peers to the sky once again and the snow picks back up.
"You're a witch, where in the gods' names did you learn such evil?"
"I've always had a knack for this. I grew up in the far east, my family... they were murdered by bog clansmen. The clans adopted me and showed me the ways of the sorcerer, but make no mistake, they are not mere louts. I would have never learned to read without them. Since then, I've been trying to find any ancient works that will help me expand my abilities, and that's why I took an apprenticeship at the antiquarian's. But this life has proven fruitless. I want to travel around, see what arcane secrets I can find, and in exchange I'll keep your ship safe in a storm. That's not my only magical talent either..."
Grizgul rubs his chin.
"I don't like this. At all. But if you can really keep our rat trap afloat, we'll see what the others think."
Back at the sloop, the shamans Cob and Su-Bostoon predictably say yes on keeping Radomir. Miplastri says no. Orgil pops back in to give a thumbs up to the boy. Three affirmative votes out of five. Welcome to the club, Radomir.
It is afternoon. Now to spend some of your hard-earned gold at the market. At the tanner's shop you pick up a used suit of lamellar armor for 300 gold (no time to wait for a custom order when thirst is your pursuer) which gives you another +1 to combat rolls that specifically entail avoiding damage. You ditch the ruined hauberk in a pile by a construction site. None of the weapons at the shops immediately call out to you though, and Cob should have snarlweed so you're set there. Now to fix this damned cup or find a new one.
Radomir picks up on your conversation with the others.
"Sir, a suggestion or two if I may. I could make you a glass vessel if I had some finely ground quartz, also known as silica sand. I've seen bags of it around during work on the palaces. I should be able to shape it with conjured flames which burn hotter than most forges. Or..."
"Or what?"
"Those tribes I told you about, the Strikamku, they're still out there. They taught me to conjure flame and ice, and with their help you may gain something more substantial. They could possibly repair your obsidian beer stein. It'll be dangerous of course."
A. Let's visit Radomir's adoptive family, the Strikamku of far eastern Nral. These clans of wild mages should know something about volcanic glass given they build their camps around hot springs and vents in addition to bogs, according to Rad. You have enough money should they require tribute, and as a last resort you could always just nab one of them to keep Knickerbocker company. Sailing up the coast, you should make good time. (Cost: 2 days, 2 rations, 2 thirst)
B. Try to find some silica sand here in Kolodny. You didn't see any when you dumped the hauberk, but then again you weren't really looking. This could be just as risky as the tribesmen if you end up having to filch the stuff used to make fine windows at the palace of the Tsar. You'll make Radomir do it. If he can't pull it off, well then he wasn't much use anyway. (Cost: ???)
C. Screw it, just keep going all the way down the coast and on to the Dragon Kingdom. These shops don't have any glassware. Hutong isn't far from eastern Nral, and you're close enough to endure the thirst now. Hutong is a relative backwater though. You've heard around town that they've recently broken out with plague and draconese are fleeing by the thousands. If that's true, it'll be hard to come across a glass water source here. Conversely, plague means opportunity, to loot, to fight, to overcome. Da Feilong is the real goal: the capital city must be home to some of the famous draconese glassblowers. (Cost: 3 days, 3 rations, 3 thirst)
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x9 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[----X----]
World Map:
Modern Saint Pidorsburg in winter.
Knickerbocker gets loud after overhearing the crew is sailing for Kolodny, so Grizgul chains him back to the wall in the hold and threatens to replace the dirty scarf. He shuts up after that. Now you can hear the rush of the ocean in peace, so you trim the jib, batten down the hatches, and whatever else a sloop requires to get moving. Truthfully Miplastri does most of the captainry, you're just happy to be here. To the north(east)!
A few days later and the harbor at Kolodny is full of warships. Something is indeed afoot, and at first it seems like you might not be able to land, but Miplastri docks the ship and deals with officials after everyone onboard dons some old sailors' oilcloths. Turns out tensions are up between the Nralites and Sudacantis. Lots to do today, and the weather is looking tolerable. Snow. There is a light fall and the streets are coated, but you've felt worse in Greenmarsh. The capital of Nral boasts an old school charm with its many parks and onion domes all crystallized in white.
A few hours later Orgdil has already fenced the entire cargo of stolen beads for 2,000 gold! He gives you your share of 400 gold. Cob's been watching the ship and Knickerbocker, while Su-bostoon and Miplastri went to get provisions. Grizgul turns in the Reaver battle standard to the Kolodny city guard for 150 gold. Flush with skrilla, you head to an antiquarian to get the small fancy sword identified. You pay 100 gold to identify the small fancy sword which turns out to be a masterwork arming sword, popular among Alfafian nobles. It bears no enchantment, but gives +1 to all combat rolls from now on. You'll keep this sword until you can get a nice axe then pawn it off for a pretty penny. You also sell off the rusty cutlass, cheap mess kit, and waterskin for a paltry 10 gold.
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Ratty hauberk
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x9 Rations
x964 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[----X----]
Golden Boy feat activated.
As Grizgul is about to stroll the market, a strapping young lad in a fur hat and coat foists a paper into your hands. You can't read it. He looks eager, and speaks broken Common (I'll spare you typing it all out that way).
"You are one of the sailors from Greenmarsh, yes? My name is Radomir, and I want to join your crew. Here is my contract."
"I'm not looking for any squirts or poltroons, begone knave." Grizgul says.
"Wait! I saw you at the antiquarian's. I am Master Kichsov's apprentice. But I want to see the world. And I-I can do things... let me show you."
Radomir peers into the sky for a short while. You don't notice anything special, but the snowfall has ceased.
"There." he says.
"There what?"
"I stopped the snow."
"You what?"
Radomir peers to the sky once again and the snow picks back up.
"You're a witch, where in the gods' names did you learn such evil?"
"I've always had a knack for this. I grew up in the far east, my family... they were murdered by bog clansmen. The clans adopted me and showed me the ways of the sorcerer, but make no mistake, they are not mere louts. I would have never learned to read without them. Since then, I've been trying to find any ancient works that will help me expand my abilities, and that's why I took an apprenticeship at the antiquarian's. But this life has proven fruitless. I want to travel around, see what arcane secrets I can find, and in exchange I'll keep your ship safe in a storm. That's not my only magical talent either..."
Grizgul rubs his chin.
"I don't like this. At all. But if you can really keep our rat trap afloat, we'll see what the others think."
Back at the sloop, the shamans Cob and Su-Bostoon predictably say yes on keeping Radomir. Miplastri says no. Orgil pops back in to give a thumbs up to the boy. Three affirmative votes out of five. Welcome to the club, Radomir.
It is afternoon. Now to spend some of your hard-earned gold at the market. At the tanner's shop you pick up a used suit of lamellar armor for 300 gold (no time to wait for a custom order when thirst is your pursuer) which gives you another +1 to combat rolls that specifically entail avoiding damage. You ditch the ruined hauberk in a pile by a construction site. None of the weapons at the shops immediately call out to you though, and Cob should have snarlweed so you're set there. Now to fix this damned cup or find a new one.
Radomir picks up on your conversation with the others.
"Sir, a suggestion or two if I may. I could make you a glass vessel if I had some finely ground quartz, also known as silica sand. I've seen bags of it around during work on the palaces. I should be able to shape it with conjured flames which burn hotter than most forges. Or..."
"Or what?"
"Those tribes I told you about, the Strikamku, they're still out there. They taught me to conjure flame and ice, and with their help you may gain something more substantial. They could possibly repair your obsidian beer stein. It'll be dangerous of course."
A. Let's visit Radomir's adoptive family, the Strikamku of far eastern Nral. These clans of wild mages should know something about volcanic glass given they build their camps around hot springs and vents in addition to bogs, according to Rad. You have enough money should they require tribute, and as a last resort you could always just nab one of them to keep Knickerbocker company. Sailing up the coast, you should make good time. (Cost: 2 days, 2 rations, 2 thirst)
B. Try to find some silica sand here in Kolodny. You didn't see any when you dumped the hauberk, but then again you weren't really looking. This could be just as risky as the tribesmen if you end up having to filch the stuff used to make fine windows at the palace of the Tsar. You'll make Radomir do it. If he can't pull it off, well then he wasn't much use anyway. (Cost: ???)
C. Screw it, just keep going all the way down the coast and on to the Dragon Kingdom. These shops don't have any glassware. Hutong isn't far from eastern Nral, and you're close enough to endure the thirst now. Hutong is a relative backwater though. You've heard around town that they've recently broken out with plague and draconese are fleeing by the thousands. If that's true, it'll be hard to come across a glass water source here. Conversely, plague means opportunity, to loot, to fight, to overcome. Da Feilong is the real goal: the capital city must be home to some of the famous draconese glassblowers. (Cost: 3 days, 3 rations, 3 thirst)
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x9 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[----X----]
World Map:
Modern Saint Pidorsburg in winter.
Last edited:
hello friend
Arcane
A
Well, we voted for the Goldenboy thing, might as well pursue that Angle now.
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
A wins with a total of 3 votes. Grizgul's sprained ankle has healed with Su-bostoon's help.
It is sunrise on the icy tundra of eastern Nral and Radomir is still snoozing. Grizgul pulls a tick out of his hair and bounces it off the boy's forehead. Nothing.
"Wake up, kid." says Grizgul as the others clean camp.
"I'm awake!" yells Radomir and nearly trips over a stew pot. He did not sleep soundly.
"What's wrong?"
"Just a night terror, sir. I... well it comes with the territory. Sorcery I mean."
"Don't remind me. And stop calling me sir, I pillage for a living. Anyway, now's your time to shine since it looks like our other camp is awake too."
Across the crystal planes, Orgdil has already reconned a Strikamku boistry lageh, a semi-mobile camp, and returned. The plan is to send Radomir for a pow wow and hope he doesn't get killed. He will then set up a meeting between the two groups. If he does get killed, well, you're going to need an army to avenge him so it's best if he just doesn't. Tactical retreats have never been your strong suit. Cob pinches off the young mage some snarlweed to keep awake.
A few hours later Radomir stumbles into the camp ass naked and barely coherent. Su-bostoon tends to him with some clothes and soup by the fire.
"What the Hel happened?" Grizgul says.
"Th-They recognized me and demanded tribute for my desertion. When I didn't pay they took my clothes and... I barely survived with a heat glamour. But the meeting is a go. Bring a tribute."
"Hah, what? At least you accomplished something. Would that you could melt all of this snow, but I suppose that's too much to ask."
"It is."
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[------X--]
The Strikamku camp is a sight out of the wildest tales of the elders of Greenmarsh, even the old Ukrash would be amazed. Masters of fire, ice, stone, and wood, they have melded natural philosophy and mysticism to conjure an aggregate of all four. Among their deceptively primitive skin tents and bonfires rise temporary monoliths of frosty rock, surrounded by wooden staircases that lead to massive signal fires at their peaks. Men and women in robes ascend these stairs to who knows what esoteric or accursed ends.
A robed Strikamku elder, or what might pass for one among the Greenmarsh clans, stands tall among a score of his retainers. He speaks slowly through a pointed beard, unused to Common but clearly capable.
"Barbarians of Greenmarsh. Who I am is not important, but I know you. You insult us by bringing the traitor Radomir to our threshold. And now you ask of us a favor. Speak."
Grizgul holds the beer stein of Burundy the Elder over his head for everyone to see. Murmurs echo through the Strikamku ranks.
"We have come seeking a wise man in the ways of artifice to mend an ancient artifact, the drinking gourd of a lost western king. We know the Strikamku are master craftsmen and toil with the demons that dwell below the earth to learn their secrets. If you can do this, name your price."
This initiates laughter throughout the ranks. Even the elder cracks a smile.
"Hmmm. Yes. Put this gourd on the ground and one of my brothers will pick it up in time. Now, what will you grant us? We have need of warriors who are not our own. But coin of the realm is also satisfying. Five hundred."
A. Easy peasy, just pay them 500 gold. Wait no that's a horrible fucking deal and will clean out most of your savings. You are really thirsty though, and whatever task they have in mind might take too long before you can find another way to drink from glass. Gonna have to tread carefully on this one. The money isn't worth your life or the indignity of eating snow. (Cost: 500 gold, ????)
B. Grizgul inquires about need for foreign warriors. The bearded ascetic explains that the Strikamku are forbidden from hunting fellbears that infest the eastern tundra during the season of the rat, but foreigners are bound by no such custom. Bring back five fellbear pelts and he promises to send the beer stein to his chief magister for repair. They are not hard to find. (Cost: 1 day, 1 ration, 1 thirst)
C. Knickerbocker is still wasting oxygen in the hold of the sloop. You could try explaining to them his immense value (much more than 500 gold for sure) as a hostage, and turn him over in exchange for a restored beer cup. This would be a lot easier if they just gave you one of theirs, but the elder insists they have no glass vessels of their own to spare. Suspicious. You don't feel right about the roundabout way the Strikamku have of dealing, or their smug laughter. This way you rid yourself of an annoying prick, don't have to break the bank, and the party can blow this popsicle stand ASAP. (Cost: ????)
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[------X--]
World Map:
Radomir's dreams are plagued by disturbing mirages.
It is sunrise on the icy tundra of eastern Nral and Radomir is still snoozing. Grizgul pulls a tick out of his hair and bounces it off the boy's forehead. Nothing.
"Wake up, kid." says Grizgul as the others clean camp.
"I'm awake!" yells Radomir and nearly trips over a stew pot. He did not sleep soundly.
"What's wrong?"
"Just a night terror, sir. I... well it comes with the territory. Sorcery I mean."
"Don't remind me. And stop calling me sir, I pillage for a living. Anyway, now's your time to shine since it looks like our other camp is awake too."
Across the crystal planes, Orgdil has already reconned a Strikamku boistry lageh, a semi-mobile camp, and returned. The plan is to send Radomir for a pow wow and hope he doesn't get killed. He will then set up a meeting between the two groups. If he does get killed, well, you're going to need an army to avenge him so it's best if he just doesn't. Tactical retreats have never been your strong suit. Cob pinches off the young mage some snarlweed to keep awake.
A few hours later Radomir stumbles into the camp ass naked and barely coherent. Su-bostoon tends to him with some clothes and soup by the fire.
"What the Hel happened?" Grizgul says.
"Th-They recognized me and demanded tribute for my desertion. When I didn't pay they took my clothes and... I barely survived with a heat glamour. But the meeting is a go. Bring a tribute."
"Hah, what? At least you accomplished something. Would that you could melt all of this snow, but I suppose that's too much to ask."
"It is."
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[------X--]
The Strikamku camp is a sight out of the wildest tales of the elders of Greenmarsh, even the old Ukrash would be amazed. Masters of fire, ice, stone, and wood, they have melded natural philosophy and mysticism to conjure an aggregate of all four. Among their deceptively primitive skin tents and bonfires rise temporary monoliths of frosty rock, surrounded by wooden staircases that lead to massive signal fires at their peaks. Men and women in robes ascend these stairs to who knows what esoteric or accursed ends.
A robed Strikamku elder, or what might pass for one among the Greenmarsh clans, stands tall among a score of his retainers. He speaks slowly through a pointed beard, unused to Common but clearly capable.
"Barbarians of Greenmarsh. Who I am is not important, but I know you. You insult us by bringing the traitor Radomir to our threshold. And now you ask of us a favor. Speak."
Grizgul holds the beer stein of Burundy the Elder over his head for everyone to see. Murmurs echo through the Strikamku ranks.
"We have come seeking a wise man in the ways of artifice to mend an ancient artifact, the drinking gourd of a lost western king. We know the Strikamku are master craftsmen and toil with the demons that dwell below the earth to learn their secrets. If you can do this, name your price."
This initiates laughter throughout the ranks. Even the elder cracks a smile.
"Hmmm. Yes. Put this gourd on the ground and one of my brothers will pick it up in time. Now, what will you grant us? We have need of warriors who are not our own. But coin of the realm is also satisfying. Five hundred."
A. Easy peasy, just pay them 500 gold. Wait no that's a horrible fucking deal and will clean out most of your savings. You are really thirsty though, and whatever task they have in mind might take too long before you can find another way to drink from glass. Gonna have to tread carefully on this one. The money isn't worth your life or the indignity of eating snow. (Cost: 500 gold, ????)
B. Grizgul inquires about need for foreign warriors. The bearded ascetic explains that the Strikamku are forbidden from hunting fellbears that infest the eastern tundra during the season of the rat, but foreigners are bound by no such custom. Bring back five fellbear pelts and he promises to send the beer stein to his chief magister for repair. They are not hard to find. (Cost: 1 day, 1 ration, 1 thirst)
C. Knickerbocker is still wasting oxygen in the hold of the sloop. You could try explaining to them his immense value (much more than 500 gold for sure) as a hostage, and turn him over in exchange for a restored beer cup. This would be a lot easier if they just gave you one of theirs, but the elder insists they have no glass vessels of their own to spare. Suspicious. You don't feel right about the roundabout way the Strikamku have of dealing, or their smug laughter. This way you rid yourself of an annoying prick, don't have to break the bank, and the party can blow this popsicle stand ASAP. (Cost: ????)
INVENTORY:
x1 Broken beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[------X--]
World Map:
Radomir's dreams are plagued by disturbing mirages.
Fuck Knickerbocker.
C>B
C>B
hello friend
Arcane
B
vazha
Arcane
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2013
- Messages
- 2,069
ExposedBrainMatter Dis ded?
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
Nope, I'll get on it later today, been busy.
ExposedBrainMatter
Educated
C is selected with 3 votes.
It is nightfall at the Strikamku camp, which Grizgul has since been told is called Cobochi Logova, the Dog's Lair. You don't see any dogs around and the nomads go quiet when asked about it. Oh well, you're sure it's nothing and these strange mystics who emit their dark ululations at the sky during the witching hour are absolutely not up to anything weird or untoward. Their elder has arranged to meet you with the hostage at night, in one of the skin tents. Cob bundles up the squirming merchant and tosses Knickerbocker on a fellbear skin rug by the central fire. A small green gem falls out of his tunic, sneaky bastard. You pocket it.
Without a word, the bearded clan leader draws a wicked knife from his hip and sinks it into the poor fat man's gullet. He wrenches the blade across the esophagus and gouts of blackish arterial blood spatter over the outstretched fellbear carcass. He then lifts the knife over a cup, your cup, and lets the gobs of oxidized ichor drip inside.
"What's this trickery?" says Grizgul.
"No trick," says the elder, "we have other uses for this one than coin. And his blood is required for the mending. Go, rest with your friends. By morning, this anointed chalice shall be whole again. Then we must speak."
Back at your own camp near the sloop, Radomir's dreams are worse than ever. The stripling mage shakes with fits that rouse everyone into alert. A grim dawn approaches the lands of northeast and southwest. An armada cutting through fields of ice with ships neverending. A broken sword, a twisted wrist. And a single cry out into the void that is cut short. These are the twilight visions that assail the one who would dabble with unnatural forces.
"I see a war, and I see you, sir. And I think there is more..." Radomir says.
"Say nothing of it, boy. We leave early tomorrow."
Grizgul rolls over and considers jerking off but Cob's snores and the tide of a possible coming battle dampen the mood.
INVENTORY:
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
xUnidentified small green gem
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[-------X-]
Grizgul awakens completely exhausted. You are nearly dehydrated to death, which is made all the worse by the snow that crunches under your feet just a few cubits away. This will all be over soon, unless the wild sorcerers have anything else up their sleeves. You approach Cobochi Logova with your crew ready to smack some heads if this thing goes sideways.
A circle of Strikamku warriors stand around a newly erected stone pillar by the elder's tent. That pillar. You've seen one before, at the tomb of Burundy the Elder where you found the beer stein. The stein was perched atop this same kind of pillar before Master Elias knocked it off with his sling. It even has the same inscriptions. The warriors seem tense. A pointed beard emerges from the fold and casts an aggressive finger at you.
"Barbarians of Greenmarsh! I am here, and you are there. Do you know the significance of this saying?"
"..."
"No."
"Of course not. It is our philosophy. Each man and woman who walks this plane inhabits their own world, even as others see them in theirs. Many eternities. Today, we put your eternity to the test."
"I paid you. Give me the beer glass."
"It is yours. Climb this pillar and seize it if you are the true heir to the bounty of the kings of Karthwin."
This has jank written all over it. But Radomir nods. Did he just speak to you... with his mind? You're sure he said something, yet his lips never moved and no one looks in his direction. Yes. He said, "Yes." Something tells you he is not in league with the Strikamku, and that this endeavor should be safe. "Endeavor"? Since when you did you know that word? Grizgul marches forward and grabs the boy by the frilled collar.
"Go. Climb." says Grizgul.
Radomir flinches but sighs and pulls himself up with the deep carvings of military campaigns that embellish the inscriptions. He can barely make it to the middle, ten cubits up. Grizgul grips an edge. It is slow going as you are fatigued worse than you've ever been except maybe that time at the Tilmach whorehouse. Just a bit further. There, you've seized the repaired beer stein off the peak. Grizgul blacks out. The last thing you hear before you hit the snow is a thunderbolt striking the apex of the pillar.
"They're gone." says Su-bostoon.
Grizgul jerks up out of his cot in the hold of the sloop.
"Where is the stein?"
"I don't know, but you need water now. The Strikamku have disappeared, tents, monoliths, everything. But their elder demands to speak to you by the shore. Wouldn't talk to us. Maybe he has it."
Your head is pounding. You climb out of the cot in a cold sweat and walk over the gangplank to the shore where the robed elder stands by a grove of pine trees. Cob and Miplastri are arguing about something further down. Orgdil greets you and walks alongside as you meet the elder.
"Radomir, come!" shouts the elder. Radomir creeps out from behind a tree, clasping the beer stein of Burundy the Elder between his hands. It looks shinier and glows with a pleasant purple, almost humming through some source of arcane energy. And it's full of water!
"This foal feared you knew him a betrayer. But he is loyal. We Strikamku must go now, to find our own way in our own eternities. Drink deeply, barbarian. The water is plain but fresh. It will sustain you like none other."
You snatch the stein from Radomir and chug the glowing water before the elder can continue. Thirst gauge set to zero, then disappears! And it will stay gone as long as you possess the stein and can fill it with water daily. You are no longer sick from dehydration. There it is. That cool goodness going down your throat. Funny, even though you are half dead the water doesn't taste particularly exciting. In fact, when you drank from the obsidian pits at Roly Poly Hill, it wasn't too remarkable. Maybe this whole quest was more hype than anything. But you have no regrets. The elder holds up a hand.
"I see a new path before you. This Karthwinite treasure holds a secret. Utter the words of health before the glass."
"Cheers!"
The beer stein is suddenly full of amber liquid. You take a sip. It's ale, and great ale. Fit for an ancient king. You down the whole glass and say "Cheers!" again. The stein is refilled.
"So this cup never runs out of beer?" says Orgdil.
"Never. It taps into multiple eternities," says the Elder, "but these magics are beyond even us. The enchantment can produce beer. But I see many eternities, and this glass holds more secrets. If you would fill it with water, or wine, or kvass at will, seek the masters of glass and spirit. Two lords may aid you. One in the Kingdom of the Dragon. The other in a southern kingdom of giants. This is my farewell. I must think now." The Strikamku wise man strides deeper into the grove and perches on a stump. He closes his eyes and becomes stone still.
Grizgul's quest for a glass of water is complete. You have gained a feat! Choose one of the following:
The crew stands on the deck of the sloop this crisp morning. Radomir unrolls a map on top of some barrels.
"Sir... uh, Grizgul. I think I know where the giant lord can be found. The Kingdom of the Dragon is obvious, but when I worked at the antiquarian's I heard several stories about conflicts between the cities of Courdeland and giants at their southern borders. But it's a long journey and the draconese are closer. The dragons are isolationists and beset by plague though, so we might have a better chance down south."
A. Sail one day south to Hutong, need to pick up some rations anyway. This is where the plague is worst and refugees occupy the countryside, but looting a draconese city would be a tale for the campfire back home. You may not even have to go all the way to the capital city to find a "master of glass and spirit." (Cost: 1 day, 1 ration)
B. Head straight to the capital, Da Feilong. Who can say how the dragons will treat you, but perhaps that old beer mug will catch some eyes, if they don't try to steal it. Radomir mentions they are primarily worried about foreign influence in the form of missionaries, and the spread of plague. Just don't say anything about the gods. There could be something afoot with the coming war too. Historically, the Kingdom has remained neutral against their northern neighbor Nral, so they will probably turtle up if shits get hot with Sudacantis. (Cost: 4 days, 4 rations)
C. Plagues? War? Missionaries? How about no. You're tired of the eastern hemisphere and wish to see your homeland again. You will sail west to Greenmarsh and stop by some old acquaintances. It may be prudent to seek counsel from the Ukrash Elder again, and you would walk the rolling green plains once more. After a little R&R you will resume your quest south to Courdeland and seek the giant lord who can alter your stein's enchantment. (Cost: 3 days, 3 rations)
D. If there's a war on the horizon you want to be prepared. Especially since you're a sailor now. The water suits you, in a glass or under a boat. It would suck if the seas were burdened by bloodshed and you were caught with your pants down coasting around. You will sail south to Rio de Sopa, the capital of Sudacantis, on your way to Courdeland to see what's up and stock the sloop. (Cost: 5 days, 5 rations)
In which Grizgul the Barbarian beseeches the lords of spirit and accidentally becomes embroiled in the war between Nral and Sudacantis.
INVENTORY:
x1 Enchanted beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x1 Unidentified small green gem
x664 Gold
World Map:
A battle scene from the Bayeux Tapestry, featuring some of the tapestry's 93 penises.
It is nightfall at the Strikamku camp, which Grizgul has since been told is called Cobochi Logova, the Dog's Lair. You don't see any dogs around and the nomads go quiet when asked about it. Oh well, you're sure it's nothing and these strange mystics who emit their dark ululations at the sky during the witching hour are absolutely not up to anything weird or untoward. Their elder has arranged to meet you with the hostage at night, in one of the skin tents. Cob bundles up the squirming merchant and tosses Knickerbocker on a fellbear skin rug by the central fire. A small green gem falls out of his tunic, sneaky bastard. You pocket it.
Without a word, the bearded clan leader draws a wicked knife from his hip and sinks it into the poor fat man's gullet. He wrenches the blade across the esophagus and gouts of blackish arterial blood spatter over the outstretched fellbear carcass. He then lifts the knife over a cup, your cup, and lets the gobs of oxidized ichor drip inside.
"What's this trickery?" says Grizgul.
"No trick," says the elder, "we have other uses for this one than coin. And his blood is required for the mending. Go, rest with your friends. By morning, this anointed chalice shall be whole again. Then we must speak."
Back at your own camp near the sloop, Radomir's dreams are worse than ever. The stripling mage shakes with fits that rouse everyone into alert. A grim dawn approaches the lands of northeast and southwest. An armada cutting through fields of ice with ships neverending. A broken sword, a twisted wrist. And a single cry out into the void that is cut short. These are the twilight visions that assail the one who would dabble with unnatural forces.
"I see a war, and I see you, sir. And I think there is more..." Radomir says.
"Say nothing of it, boy. We leave early tomorrow."
Grizgul rolls over and considers jerking off but Cob's snores and the tide of a possible coming battle dampen the mood.
INVENTORY:
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
xUnidentified small green gem
x664 Gold
THIRST GAUGE:
[-------X-]
Grizgul awakens completely exhausted. You are nearly dehydrated to death, which is made all the worse by the snow that crunches under your feet just a few cubits away. This will all be over soon, unless the wild sorcerers have anything else up their sleeves. You approach Cobochi Logova with your crew ready to smack some heads if this thing goes sideways.
A circle of Strikamku warriors stand around a newly erected stone pillar by the elder's tent. That pillar. You've seen one before, at the tomb of Burundy the Elder where you found the beer stein. The stein was perched atop this same kind of pillar before Master Elias knocked it off with his sling. It even has the same inscriptions. The warriors seem tense. A pointed beard emerges from the fold and casts an aggressive finger at you.
"Barbarians of Greenmarsh! I am here, and you are there. Do you know the significance of this saying?"
"..."
"No."
"Of course not. It is our philosophy. Each man and woman who walks this plane inhabits their own world, even as others see them in theirs. Many eternities. Today, we put your eternity to the test."
"I paid you. Give me the beer glass."
"It is yours. Climb this pillar and seize it if you are the true heir to the bounty of the kings of Karthwin."
This has jank written all over it. But Radomir nods. Did he just speak to you... with his mind? You're sure he said something, yet his lips never moved and no one looks in his direction. Yes. He said, "Yes." Something tells you he is not in league with the Strikamku, and that this endeavor should be safe. "Endeavor"? Since when you did you know that word? Grizgul marches forward and grabs the boy by the frilled collar.
"Go. Climb." says Grizgul.
Radomir flinches but sighs and pulls himself up with the deep carvings of military campaigns that embellish the inscriptions. He can barely make it to the middle, ten cubits up. Grizgul grips an edge. It is slow going as you are fatigued worse than you've ever been except maybe that time at the Tilmach whorehouse. Just a bit further. There, you've seized the repaired beer stein off the peak. Grizgul blacks out. The last thing you hear before you hit the snow is a thunderbolt striking the apex of the pillar.
###
"They're gone." says Su-bostoon.
Grizgul jerks up out of his cot in the hold of the sloop.
"Where is the stein?"
"I don't know, but you need water now. The Strikamku have disappeared, tents, monoliths, everything. But their elder demands to speak to you by the shore. Wouldn't talk to us. Maybe he has it."
Your head is pounding. You climb out of the cot in a cold sweat and walk over the gangplank to the shore where the robed elder stands by a grove of pine trees. Cob and Miplastri are arguing about something further down. Orgdil greets you and walks alongside as you meet the elder.
"Radomir, come!" shouts the elder. Radomir creeps out from behind a tree, clasping the beer stein of Burundy the Elder between his hands. It looks shinier and glows with a pleasant purple, almost humming through some source of arcane energy. And it's full of water!
"This foal feared you knew him a betrayer. But he is loyal. We Strikamku must go now, to find our own way in our own eternities. Drink deeply, barbarian. The water is plain but fresh. It will sustain you like none other."
You snatch the stein from Radomir and chug the glowing water before the elder can continue. Thirst gauge set to zero, then disappears! And it will stay gone as long as you possess the stein and can fill it with water daily. You are no longer sick from dehydration. There it is. That cool goodness going down your throat. Funny, even though you are half dead the water doesn't taste particularly exciting. In fact, when you drank from the obsidian pits at Roly Poly Hill, it wasn't too remarkable. Maybe this whole quest was more hype than anything. But you have no regrets. The elder holds up a hand.
"I see a new path before you. This Karthwinite treasure holds a secret. Utter the words of health before the glass."
"Cheers!"
The beer stein is suddenly full of amber liquid. You take a sip. It's ale, and great ale. Fit for an ancient king. You down the whole glass and say "Cheers!" again. The stein is refilled.
"So this cup never runs out of beer?" says Orgdil.
"Never. It taps into multiple eternities," says the Elder, "but these magics are beyond even us. The enchantment can produce beer. But I see many eternities, and this glass holds more secrets. If you would fill it with water, or wine, or kvass at will, seek the masters of glass and spirit. Two lords may aid you. One in the Kingdom of the Dragon. The other in a southern kingdom of giants. This is my farewell. I must think now." The Strikamku wise man strides deeper into the grove and perches on a stump. He closes his eyes and becomes stone still.
Grizgul's quest for a glass of water is complete. You have gained a feat! Choose one of the following:
- Boozebarian - Endless beer, hell yeah. You drink every day, and walking around with a low grade buzz has its benefits. +1 to all rolls related to acts of bravery and social situations. But this liquid courage isn't without its price, since now you receive -1 on all dexterity-related checks due to clumsiness.
- Globetrotter - You never imagined you'd be a sailor, but you never imagined you'd consort with sorcerers either. Traveling across the world and selling those beads in Kolodny got you thinking, why shouldn't I be a businessman? Orgdil and Miplastri approve. Whenever you stop in a populated area, you will buy curios and sniff out where to sell them for the highest price. This effectively means any trip from one city to another nets you some gold.
- Dark Attunement - These past few days have been a wild ride and you've witnessed magical phenomena that perhaps a man should not see. Between your magic beer stein, the Strikamku, and regular proximity to Radomir, it seems like some of this magic is rubbing off on you. From now on, you will gradually discover more information about any unidentified object you are carrying, and random flashes of insight will come to you at odd times, especially in places of magic.
The crew stands on the deck of the sloop this crisp morning. Radomir unrolls a map on top of some barrels.
"Sir... uh, Grizgul. I think I know where the giant lord can be found. The Kingdom of the Dragon is obvious, but when I worked at the antiquarian's I heard several stories about conflicts between the cities of Courdeland and giants at their southern borders. But it's a long journey and the draconese are closer. The dragons are isolationists and beset by plague though, so we might have a better chance down south."
A. Sail one day south to Hutong, need to pick up some rations anyway. This is where the plague is worst and refugees occupy the countryside, but looting a draconese city would be a tale for the campfire back home. You may not even have to go all the way to the capital city to find a "master of glass and spirit." (Cost: 1 day, 1 ration)
B. Head straight to the capital, Da Feilong. Who can say how the dragons will treat you, but perhaps that old beer mug will catch some eyes, if they don't try to steal it. Radomir mentions they are primarily worried about foreign influence in the form of missionaries, and the spread of plague. Just don't say anything about the gods. There could be something afoot with the coming war too. Historically, the Kingdom has remained neutral against their northern neighbor Nral, so they will probably turtle up if shits get hot with Sudacantis. (Cost: 4 days, 4 rations)
C. Plagues? War? Missionaries? How about no. You're tired of the eastern hemisphere and wish to see your homeland again. You will sail west to Greenmarsh and stop by some old acquaintances. It may be prudent to seek counsel from the Ukrash Elder again, and you would walk the rolling green plains once more. After a little R&R you will resume your quest south to Courdeland and seek the giant lord who can alter your stein's enchantment. (Cost: 3 days, 3 rations)
D. If there's a war on the horizon you want to be prepared. Especially since you're a sailor now. The water suits you, in a glass or under a boat. It would suck if the seas were burdened by bloodshed and you were caught with your pants down coasting around. You will sail south to Rio de Sopa, the capital of Sudacantis, on your way to Courdeland to see what's up and stock the sloop. (Cost: 5 days, 5 rations)
And thus begins:
Chapter 2 of Glass of Water Quest: The Bloody Bloodening
Chapter 2 of Glass of Water Quest: The Bloody Bloodening
In which Grizgul the Barbarian beseeches the lords of spirit and accidentally becomes embroiled in the war between Nral and Sudacantis.
INVENTORY:
x1 Enchanted beer stein of Burundy the Elder
x1 Masterwork arming sword (+1 to combat rolls)
x1 Lamellar cuirass (+1 to defensive combat rolls)
x1 Soiled worsted wool skirt
x1 Pot helmet
x1 Sling
x19 River stones for the sling
x7 Rations
x1 Unidentified small green gem
x664 Gold
World Map:
A battle scene from the Bayeux Tapestry, featuring some of the tapestry's 93 penises.
hello friend
Arcane
Dark Attunement
D
D
C
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