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Child Item

D&D II Act One Scene IV(a) - The Dead in Osinzir

Fourier

The gondolas ascend to the top of the bridge, which spans about half a kilometer stretching over to the palace.

About a thousand armed guards line the bridge, arranged in pairs on each side. Dotted among the guards are statues of the nations former rulers.

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Banjo

Retula gives a "my bad" shrug, palms out, trying a quick calming beholder-charm-eyebeam to diffuse the situation while apologising for her uncharacteristic clumsiness

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

Ooc : rolled 9

Retula walks in carefully stepping around the piles, they seem to contain the details of peoples live, or at least the ones she can read do, which are a very small fraction of the total number there.

"These are the ones I'm currently processing..."

She then steps on one.

"...mmmmmmmm"

The trollish man clenches his fists.

Banjo

Fourier wrote: »

OOC: Dex check

Ooc : rolled 9

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

"well, I meant the arch but it'd be rude to refuse, thank you!"
She dismisses Mr H, has Hetyaro perch and let's the puma figure his own **** out. As she enters she makes a show of avoiding the papers carefully so as to try and get a better look at them.
"So, what is it you do, Mr.... Uh...." She trails off.

OOC: Dex check

OldGoat

Fourier wrote: »

The pipe instruments begin to play a pleasant tune for Mags, an altered echo of his own. In fact it's his own tune improved quite a bit.

Mags applauds the flower trumpets performance.
"That was super, you guys rock."
He walks to the paintings and checks each in turn, gleaning what he can from the depictions and then checking behind the frames for any secret openings.

(If he survives) He then heads to the door to the east and goes through into the next room.

Banjo

"well, I meant the arch but it'd be rude to refuse, thank you!"
She dismisses Mr H, has Hetyaro perch and let's the puma figure his own **** out. As she enters she makes a show of avoiding the papers carefully so as to try and get a better look at them.
"So, what is it you do, Mr.... Uh...." She trails off.

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

"yes sir, I hope you may. Apologies for calling at such a late hour but I'm hopeful of winning the great Race and I'm following up on a lead on an advantage that might be found in the arch. I did not wish to trespass, so I seek permission to enter. I saw your cottage and thought it best to speak with you. Like, totally n stuff. May we enter?"

"My cottage of course..."

He extends his hand into the room.

"Come in and be careful not to step on the records and papers."

Hundreds of books worth of paper lie all over the floor in various heaps and piles.

Banjo

"yes sir, I hope you may. Apologies for calling at such a late hour but I'm hopeful of winning the great Race and I'm following up on a lead on an advantage that might be found in the arch. I did not wish to trespass, so I seek permission to enter. I saw your cottage and thought it best to speak with you. Like, totally n stuff. May we enter?"

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

Retula sends the raven up and over the arch for a recce and a gawk in the windows if possible. Unless danger is apparent she checks the cottage for signs of life or danger and knocks on the door

One of the windows has tons and tons of paper records in it. In fact the room's insides look hundreds of times bigger than the arch itself. The second room is small enough and houses four zombified farmers.

The house currently has a fire lit, with more records on a table, knocking on the house door Retula sees it is opened a being of troll stature, though not a troll. He has large tusks in his lower jaw that jut upward and smooth red horns.

"Yes? May I help young lady?"

Banjo

Retula sends the raven up and over the arch for a recce and a gawk in the windows if possible. Unless danger is apparent she checks the cottage for signs of life or danger and knocks on the door

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

Unless he wants to chat, Retula heads on to the next waypoint.

Retula quickly heads back across the bridge and south to the arch.

Surprisingly it lies not on the road, but off it. The arch is azure in colour with two windows in the keystone.

Sitting in front of the arch is a straw roofed cottage.

Fourier

The pipe instruments begin to play a pleasant tune for Mags, an altered echo of his own. In fact it's his own tune improved quite a bit.

OldGoat

Fourier wrote: »

OOC: Performance check

OOC: A mediocre 10

Fourier

OldGoat wrote: »

Mags tootles a toot on the flute to see if the flower trumpets react.

OOC: Performance check

OldGoat

Mags tootles a toot on the flute to see if the flower trumpets react.

Fourier

OldGoat wrote: »

"It would be churlish of me to refuse such an offer so. Fairwell for now 'saur. Hope your berry harvest is abundant."

Mags strides into the temple, leather helmet in hand in a token gesture of reverence to whatever deity resides within.

The first room of the temle into which Mags walks has two cloth paintings on each side, depicting the god of music, a happy red-checked man, riding a red Tyrannosaurus and tossing notes toward evil spirits living beneath the ground.

Very strangely there are flower beds with pipe instrument flowers growing from the soil, swaying back and forth to eachother's music.

There is a single door on the East wall.

Banjo

Fourier wrote: »

The brew tastes bitter, but still surprisingly pleasant. Retula doesn't feel much different, but is aware of a surprisingly strong magical field about her.

OOC: Retula cannot drown, nor does she take environmental damage from snow and other cold weather.

"Smooth! OOOOoooooh, Tingles! Hope that means I'm immune to your extortionate bridge-hoisting charges now.

So, what does a girl have to do to get enough of your blood to bathe in? Actually no - scrap that! That can only go two ways and I don't think I want to do either.

Well... uh... Thanks! I guess if there's nothing else I have an arch to visit and a race to win. Might catch you on the flip side - we can totally hang out when I'm a big-shot councillor!"

Unless he wants to chat, Retula heads on to the next waypoint.

OldGoat

Fourier wrote: »

"You're right there, I just farm them"

"Yeah, the race in the Eastern canyons. It decides up to half of the nation's council. A bit daft to me, but such is human custom."

The temple door opens.

The locals all step back from the temple or descend the nearby vines.

"Invited in?" the raptor says surprised "A great honour"

"It would be churlish of me to refuse such an offer so. Fairwell for now 'saur. Hope your berry harvest is abundant."

Mags strides into the temple, leather helmet in hand in a token gesture of reverence to whatever deity resides within.

Fourier

OldGoat wrote: »

What about yourself saur? From the shape of your jaw you're not much of a berry-eater, what brings you to the music temple?

"You're right there, I just farm them"

Oh, by the way, do you know anything about some kind of race or anything connected with a race? A friend told me that there was some kind of powerup hereabouts."

"Yeah, the race in the Eastern canyons. It decides up to half of the nation's council. A bit daft to me, but such is human custom."

OldGoat wrote: »

Mags looks at his collection of instruments, his tuned armour, his hand-drum and his flute. He selects the drum, makes sure it's tuned and then tosses it high onto the roof as he saw the guitar player doing. He mumbles a prayer to whatever god may be present.
"Ummm, hi god. It's me, Mags. Nice treehouse. Can I be of any service?"

The temple door opens.

The locals all step back from the temple or descend the nearby vines.

"Invited in?" the raptor says surprised "A great honour"

Fourier

The brew tastes bitter, but still surprisingly pleasant. Retula doesn't feel much different, but is aware of a surprisingly strong magical field about her.

OOC: Retula cannot drown, nor does she take environmental damage from snow and other cold weather.

Banjo

Fourier wrote: »

"Oh no little one, I am to give you a gift, in light of all you have done"

He brings a claw to his scalp and draws blood, takes a cup from a guard and pools the blood in it. Then a bit of heat and spices from the palace kitchens and he has a broth.

"Drink and water and snow shall do you no harm"

She eyes the concoction a little suspiciously, while Hetyaro does a subtle fly-by to check her host for any signs of Dragonruff or Scalpscale. Then she shrugs - it's hardly the grossest thing she's put in her mouth in exchange for the promise of power.
"How does this go in common? Uh.... May the shadows coil to choke your rivals, their menfolk plead for their continued survival, their children weep blood in the streets and fields, and and their souls your chips at every meal. Coia tal, coia gabreth, coia n'thla!"
She knocks it back, trying to count how many creatures she's met on this plane who haven't offered her a cuppa. It's definitely the shorter list.

OOC : Awaiting confirmation that she's survived, is conscious and isn't tripping her flaps off.

OldGoat

Fourier wrote: »

Most of the locals just come and go, but one trader from Zassan leaves a Zassanite guitar on the porch.

A single velociraptor does greet Mags.

"A half Orc, where are you from?"

"Wherever I lay my hat, thats my home.

I've been travelling so long now that I don't really have a home town anymore. Perhaps the bard college is the closest I've got these days.

What about yourself saur? From the shape of your jaw you're not much of a berry-eater, what brings you to the music temple? Oh, by the way, do you know anything about some kind of race or anything connected with a race? A friend told me that there was some kind of powerup hereabouts."

Mags looks at his collection of instruments, his tuned armour, his hand-drum and his flute. He selects the drum, makes sure it's tuned and then tosses it high onto the roof as he saw the guitar player doing. He mumbles a prayer to whatever god may be present.
"Ummm, hi god. It's me, Mags. Nice treehouse. Can I be of any service?"

Fourier

OldGoat wrote: »

Mags walks over towards the temple and stops just short of it. Rather than go in stomping over any local etiquette he watches the people for a while to see how they approach and how they show reverence at the temple.
He casts a eye over the instruments on the roof looking for unusual or magical properties.

He also says 'Hello' to any dinosaurs passing on the off-chance that they might be sentient.

Most of the locals just come and go, but one trader from Zassan leaves a Zassanite guitar on the porch.

A single velociraptor does greet Mags.

"A half Orc, where are you from?"

OldGoat

Mags walks over towards the temple and stops just short of it. Rather than go in stomping over any local etiquette he watches the people for a while to see how they approach and how they show reverence at the temple.
He casts a eye over the instruments on the roof looking for unusual or magical properties.

He also says 'Hello' to any dinosaurs passing on the off-chance that they might be sentient.

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

"On my way, big lizard. Hey, I thought it was the Golds sent for me. The prices you charge, I'm not sure I can afford to talk to you."

"Oh no little one, I am to give you a gift, in light of all you have done"

He brings a claw to his scalp and draws blood, takes a cup from a guard and pools the blood in it. Then a bit of heat and spices from the palace kitchens and he has a broth.

"Drink and water and snow shall do you no harm"

Fourier

OldGoat wrote: »

As he does so he muses on the number of talking animals he's met in the last few days since he was thrown into some kind of game-show for a crime he may not have committed.

Mags exits the portal, stepping out into the town of Zhusarrum, which seems to consist of huts nestled among the jungle's trees.

Berry farmers and their dinosaurs are in middle of a busy harvest, with apatosaurs carrying their berry laden baskets out into the jungle and North to Zassan.

Mags can clearly make out the temple to the music god, a large tree hut cradled by very broad purple leafed tree, with various instruments decorating its roof.

Banjo

"On my way, big lizard. Hey, I thought it was the Golds sent for me. The prices you charge, I'm not sure I can afford to talk to you."

Fourier

A long line of guards around the palace look none too pleased to see Retula approach, but one of the blue dragons raises its wings, signalling to let her past.

"Come here little Raven" it says with a smile on its face.

Banjo

"Bitchin!"
She whistles for her horse and raven and takes the whole talking zoo on the road.
"Ok before we go I need to go say hi to the dragons, then we're off to the arch."
And off she goes.

Fourier

Banjo wrote: »

"Come on, phase me out into the garden, I don't want to have to face those chair ghosts."

She finishes off a quick rub to relieve the stress, before she and Lumol jump through the wall and onto the street, out into the square behind the palace.