Completed Play-by-Post: In Search of the Sorcerer

[nikolokolus]

OOC

nikolokolus I have based Urash's reasoning on the idea that it is growing dark outside, given what Ymae had said to Marcán. Is that a correct assumption?

OOC

Urash's perspicuity is notable

 

[nikolokolus]

Map with labels of known locations:

Houses with blacked out roofs are ruined/deserted buildings.

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

"I agree Urash, it would most likely be safer to wait until the morning to do our investigation. I never did like having to take bodies into the tombs at night. It was unpleasant to say the least. I have a feeling it may be more than unpleasant in this town."

 

[nikolokolus]

The barrows are out on the Moors well away from the village.

 

[Grimgravy]

OOC

Is that some sort of ramp leading up to the greathouse? And what's that off the the east of it? Boat launch or cemetery looks like.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

"Then, Man-of-Kor and Cleric, please help me translate my plans so we can have these Pictsmen help us. We shall plant stakes along the village, along all its ways, so the wolf is forced to appear only at the square. At the square, we shall need some men ready with lit torches, but long ones, mark you. We may be able to use fire to control its movements, fey beast it may be, but 'tis a beast still. Mayhap we can force it to tarry til break of dawn, it seems unwilling to hunt past the morn-times. Perchance it cannot survive under the stare of the sun?"

Borric removes all spare equipment so that he may move with lesser hindrance, choosing to keep only his maul, his armor, his furcloak, and his dagger-boots.

 

[L'ennui]

"I know Pictish well enough to assist you, but perhaps your plan would be better received coming from a more familiar mouth."

Switching to Pictish, Urash turns to face Fidach and raises both arms towards him in a gesture of earnest supplication:

"You have been a most gracious host through all my time here, and your valour is without doubt; thus it is to you we must turn for aid.

All of the gods and all of the laws of men will not help those who cannot help themselves; the whole village must come together to confront this evil, or trickle away and perish.

Help us stir your countrymen to decisive action! Our friend here has a plan, but I fear time is of the essence and we are but strangers here, without influence."

Having made his plea, Urash extends a hand to Fidach.

 

[nikolokolus]

OOC

Is that some sort of ramp leading up to the greathouse? And what's that off the the east of it? Boat launch or cemetery looks like.

Answer

Yes. The village greathouse is built on top of a rocky mound that rises from the lake and a wooden ramp switch-backs up to it. You haven't investigated the structures in and around the greathouse, but on an outcropping of rock you did spy a square stone structure from your vantage in the square. You ask Fidach about it and he tells you that it is the custom of the Crannógmere to cremate their dead in recent years at the behest of Father Boccan, who says it pleases Arianrhod and that the cremated dead will be free of the bondage that the coming of Cailleach Bheur (Crone of Winter) portends.

 

[nikolokolus]

"Then, Man-of-Kor and Cleric, please help me translate my plans so we can have these Pictsmen help us. We shall plant stakes along the village, along all its ways, so the wolf is forced to appear only at the square. At the square, we shall need some men ready with lit torches, but long ones, mark you. We may be able to use fire to control its movements, fey beast it may be, but 'tis a beast still. Mayhap we can force it to tarry til break of dawn, it seems unwilling to hunt past the morn-times. Perchance it cannot survive under the stare of the sun?"

Borric removes all spare equipment so that he may move with lesser hindrance, choosing to keep only his maul, his armor, his furcloak, and his dagger-boots.

OK. Got it. You do however get the impression that people fear an attack could happen at any moment after sundown.

"I know Pictish well enough to assist you, but perhaps your plan would be better received coming from a more familiar mouth."

Switching to Pictish, Urash turns to face Fidach and raises both arms towards him in a gesture of earnest supplication:

"You have been a most gracious host through all my time here, and your valour is without doubt; thus it is to you we must turn for aid.

All of the gods and all of the laws of men will not help those who cannot help themselves; the whole village must come together to confront this evil, or trickle away and perish.

Help us stir your countrymen to decisive action! Our friend here has a plan, but I fear time is of the essence and we are but strangers here, without influence."

Having made his plea, Urash extends a hand to Fidach.

Fidach shrugs his shoulders and spreads his hands in a gesture of resignation, "We are not cowards, but what can we do against such a beast?" His eyes flash and his tone grows slightly angry, "We did fight against the creature for a month and more and all we got for our troubles was over fifty dead. Yes, the lottery is a bitter pill and it slowly chokes the life out of us, but most of our warriors our dead and the people are afraid. What the village needs now is hope; some sign that the gods haven't abandoned us." He pauses for a moment, "I don't know if the Widow Ymae be full of lies or truth, but I haven't felt hope until you returned my daughter to me. So I can't speak for the rest of the village nor that compromiser Talorc and his lick-spittle Syelle Ru, but you will have my sword and spear if you need it and my Brother Brule will undoubtedly back you."

 

[nikolokolus]

On the way out, "A cleric and druid in the room. And you ask the bard of charms to ward evil spirits?"

Lore Check abuse

Existance of charms for evil spirits?
Lore Check: [1d20] = 5
Lore Check: [1d20] = 13

You know that there are spells and incantations that can ward off evil fey; cold iron is supposed to be particularly effective. But with respect to Blaidd Mawr, in Keltic legends, he is (or was?) The Horned God, Cernunnos' pack leader of the Wild Hunt -- an avenging spirit who punishes those who offend Cernunnos or sometimes sent forth as omen of doom. How Blaidd Mawr fits into the Picts' cosmology is unknown to you, except for the story you were already told about Ulfheonar driving the spirit back to Otherworld. Contrary to what you had been lead to believe about Picts being brutal subhuman savages, you are starting to realize that many of their customs mirror many of your own and even their language is closely related.

Marcán gently opens the door and enters the household, closing the door behind him. "Greetings. Are you the one they call Ymae?"

In front of you is a wizened old woman seated in front of a cook fire in the center of the the circular hut. She is bent with age and possesses a face that might once have been beautiful, but is now gaunt and heavily lined. She cranes her head to the side to get a look at you and smiles. She addresses you in flawless Keltic, "Ah. What a strapping, handsome young man you are! Better than I was expecting. Come. Come in and talk for awhile. It's not often that I get company, especially foreign visitors of such high station. What bardic college have you attained?"

 

[L'ennui]

Urash's shoulders slump a little and his upheld hand falls back to rest on the hilt of a dagger at his belt.

"I should have paid more attention to rhetorician Sabah's class at the Academy", he thinks to himself.

To Borric, he says in Illyrian:

"I do not believe good Fidach is inclined to help us rouse the villagers... His heart is full of despair, save for the Crone witch that your friends went off to meet. Whatever defensive works can be prepared in this late hour, it falls upon us to effect them. Shall we go, then?"

Urash makes for the door, stopping short of the exit to see if Cormac and Borric follow.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Borric looks Fidach in the eye, points to the bite marks and scars that mar his scowling visage, and says, hoping Fidach might understand. "Wolf. Fight. I live."

Then without a second glance he stalks out to set his plans in motion.

 

[Siveon]

OOC

What Bardic College did I study at?

 

[Grimgravy]

Rhemyr will aid Borric and the others with their preparations unless or until a chance to slip off unnoticed to watch the greathouse presents itself.

 

[nikolokolus]

OOC

What Bardic College did I study at?

Spoiler

This might help. (I forgot to to list levels of attainment in the custom Bard class I put together -- which isn't a "college" in the traditional sense, more of a level of attainment).

Level:

1. (Probationer)
2. (Probationer)
3. Fochlucan
4. Mac-Fuirmidh
5. Doss
6. Canaith
7. Cli
8. Anstruth
9. Ollamh
10. Alumnae
11. Magna Alumnae

 

[Siveon]

Marcán gives an awkward smile, "You flatter me miss. I'm still a novice, hardly someone of any station. But it is good to see that the townsfolk did not lie about your prowess - or perhaps my visage simply gives my profession away." He clears his throat. "If you do not mind, I am in a bit of a hurry, I'm sure you know about the local wolf infestation. I just wanted to ask about your dreams, and perhaps your help on the matter at hand."

 

[nikolokolus]

OK. As far as I understand it everyone but Marán is going outside to make preparations. Fidach agrees to help. He summons Oona down from upstairs and mutters something in Pictish. Urash hears him say "get the cask of oil" and she nods before darting into a back room. Fidach then turns to all of you and speaks in Keltic, "Brule will be on the wall near the gate if I know him. There's no telling where and exactly when the beast will strike, but perhaps he thinks he'll catch sight of it if it comes over the bog?"

Fidach snatches up a spear and shield that are tucked into a corner of the common room. Oona returns shortly with a small cask of oil carried under her right arm, and clutch of three javelins in her left hand and both look at Borric, Cormac, Rhenmyr, Ker and Urash in turn. "Lead on."

 

[nikolokolus]

Marcán gives an awkward smile, "You flatter me miss. I'm still a novice, hardly someone of any station. But it is good to see that the townsfolk did not lie about your prowess - or perhaps my visage simply gives my profession away." He clears his throat. "If you do not mind, I am in a bit of a hurry, I'm sure you know about the local wolf infestation. I just wanted to ask about your dreams, and perhaps your help on the matter at hand."

Ymae returns Marcán's courtesy with a warm look and a hint of a smile. "Such a pretty mouth on this one!" she cackles. "But is that all you've come for then? A pity . . . well perhaps I can help you . . . and perhaps not? It remains to be seen I think." She rises stiffly and an extraordinarily large raven perched in the rafters of her hut caws down loudly. "Shush, Cigfran! That's no way to talk to a guest!" She stoops over and picks up a stout bit of wood and throws it into the fire. "Now. Old Ymae knows much. Yes, yes, much indeed! But a bargain must be struck." Her eyes glint and then darkle, "Will you hear my bargain?"

 

[Siveon]

Marcán nods. "Yes, of course."

 

[nikolokolus]

Marcán nods. "Yes, of course."

"Good, good. I don't know how else to put this dear, but I need a husband." She cocks an eyebrow and looks at you intently.

 

[Siveon]

Marcán tries with all of his might to keep a straight face. "...Do you mean for me to play matchmaker? I've never been one for courtship but I'm sure there are available men your age.." He meekly looks around to see if any of his friends have caught up to him.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

OOC

Lol maybe if we beat the wolf back we should have the chieftain's seer bloke hook up with the witch as punishment.

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

Cormac sees Urash stand and looks up as Fidach calls for Oona. He looks down towards the ground and sighs, sad that the stew he had been so wanting never appeared. He watches Oona carry the oil and Javelins sighs again, and gets up. "Urash, I'll coming. Let's see what we can do to help these people. Hopefully without exposing ourselves too much to the attacks of that ravenous beast. Maybe when we find a way to kill this creature, we will finally get our stew!"

 

[nikolokolus]

Marcán tries with all of his might to keep a straight face. "...Do you mean for me to play matchmaker? I've never been one for courtship but I'm sure there are available men your age.." He meekly looks around to see if any of his friends have caught up to him.

Ymae shakes her head, "No dear. I've taken quite a fancy to you and I need a man of pure Keltic blood not one of these half-breeds. Besides, the Picts have never quite warmed to me, lo these past twenty odd years - most of them scurry and scuttle and make the sign of the evil eye against me, but who do they come to for their unguents, their salves and their love potions? Ha! Ingrates." Ymae breaks into a fit of coughing and laughing. "Here is my bargain bard: Promise to make me your wife after Blaidd Mawr is defeated and I will share with you the secret to overcoming the Black Wolf. If you think me not fair enough, then begone and bother me not!"

 

[Siveon]

Marcán sighs. "What would you have me do if I accept? After Blaidd Mawer is defeated. Leave my friends and family to fend off on their own? You're a seer, you should have an inkling for what we're looking for." he chuckles. "Or do you wish to travel with a band of fools to their graves?"