Vladim

"We must speak about Tiberius. If he was created by the killer, as you said... then the embrace was unsanctioned. And you understand, I trust, what the law decrees for unsanctioned creation?"

Livia of Edessa [Mom: 5 (9/1) | Health: 4 | Spirit: 5 | Blood: 3 | Fails: 9 | CelerityI. When you Face Danger or Secure an Advantage using your unnatural speed, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. II. When you Strike or Clash and score a weak hit, you may inflict 1 harm only but maintain initiative. | MajestyI. (Awe) When you Secure an Advantage by manifesting your aura of supernatural charisma, add +1 and take +1 on a hit. II. (Confidant) Once per scene, reroll any dice when you Compel a victim that you have Awed to make a non life-threatening request. | ObfuscateI. (Face in the crowd) If you avoid drawing attention to yourself, you become unremarkable, blending into the background. | VigorI. When you Face Danger or Secure an Advantage using your unnatural strength, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. | HerbalistI. When you Face Danger +wits to heal a mortal, add +1 and take +1 spirit or +1 momentum on a hit. | Shadow-kinI. Once you become corrupted, you harden your heart. Add +1 to Shadow. | Shadow-WalkI. When you cloak yourself in the gossamer veil of the shadow realms, roll +shadow. On a strong hit, take +1 momentum. Then, reroll any dice (one time only) when you make a move by ambushing, hiding, or sneaking. On a weak hit, as above, but the shadows try to lead you astray. You must first Face Danger to find your way. III. When you perform this ritual, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. (OFF)] "It is... too soon to say." replied Morwen with great apprehension. "The killer is indeed one of our kind, and they may well be a Christian, for Cunctator was destroyed in his very haven, which lies not far from the basilica of Peter, in a long-abandoned section of the Undercity." She paused, allowing Valea to consider all of this for a moment. She awaited more questions, but there were none. So she added: "I understand that murder ranks amongst the gravest of crimes in the Camarilla. I will get to the bottom of this-I only need another night or two. Tiberius is the key..." OOC Let's just try a Secure an Advantage +wits. The idea is that she wants to inspire confidence about her ability to do this. The outcome can determine the difficulty of the exchange that follows. Edit: A weak hit. +1 momentum. And maybe the Scene Challenge to convince her to spare Tiberius is Likely (26+) Troublesome. Otherwise, Dangerous. Edit: Troublesome.

As Valea led Morwen towards another room, the latter noted the quick passing of time. What hour of the night it was, she could not say with certainty. But she worried that she would not have the chance to continue her investigation until the morrow. This caused her great concern: the culprit could easily escape while she still searched for them. After a few minutes Valea stopped, turning to face her. The chosen chamber was small and lit with candles, and the eastern perfumes permeated the place. A long table was set in the center: this was likely a room reserved for massages, but Morwen could not be certain. "We must speak at length. Do you know who Cunctator's killer is? Someone from the Collegia?"

(Art credit: Inken Stabell, Winterreisse) ' '(...) There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: 'Stetson! ‘You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! ‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden, ‘Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? ‘Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? ‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men, ‘Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!' ' T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land Fourth week of winter A day had passed. And still, neither Rhoven nor Gamrin had returned. Nor had the Bardings and Woodmen that had gone with them. Svior cursed into the howling wind, and his words were scattered into the frigid air and lost. There was no point to send others after them: any tracks would have been long buried under fresh snow, and he had no authority to endanger the lived of even more amongst them. So many lost, and so quickly... even the Yule was not yet upon them. Black days in the white winter. Another came to replace him in his post. Svior handed him the mason's tools and left the task of repairing the stonework to Borin. He had to shed all hope, even if he loathed to do so. Worry or regret would not fill their empty bellies... it would not feed their fires. OOC Steps again: Counting the dead: Welost 6 NPCs to starvation (re-fluffed into them getting lost outside. Forecasting the weather... a 2 for this round. We'll need 8 fuel to keep things warm (which we unfortunately do not have). Then it's rationing time. All 6 fuel will go towards feeding the fires; 2 rooms cannot be warmed sufficiently and will lose one NPC each. But maybe if we consolidate, we can avoid it... let me see. Yes! We can spend our 3 food to move those 3 remaining dwarves into the 'holes' left by the other dead NPCs. Then we can warm all 3 rooms. It will still leave us with 0 food/fuel, and everyone going hungry... Then we gather supplies... definitely food. Edit: Ok, so +14 food, +2 medicine, +3 fuel. Then occurrence.

Wulfnoth had seen many winters. But none like this. As the snow fell from the sky, he felt something deep in his old bones-something akin to foresight or a premonition. He deemed his doom draw near, and his death approaching. He clutched his cloak and pressed it about his neck, closing it as best he could to guard against the harsh breath of winter. Perhaps if he were younger, he would have been able to endure it. Even that was dubious. But one could never know. Their luck could change. And even if death claimed him, he could take solace in having lived in times as these. His was not a life full of joys and devoid of sorrows, but at least it had been long enough to see some of the shadow lifted from the forest. Much had to be done yet, but it would be a task for younger hands. He had never told the huntress the reason of his coming to Estin and beyond. Geirbald had tasked him with it, and he had sworn him an oath not to reveal it. But now that oath held no meaning or merit, for if he held to doubt before, then this was no longer so. And so he sought her, and he said all, and he gave her the ring that he had worn since his marriage-day and had never taken off his finger to pass on to his long-estranged daughter who dwelled in Woodland Hall. Then on the morning he set out with other hunters: Eirnwyn, his kin, and two fierce Dalish women, and a pair of dwarves. Need and hope drove them deep into these dead lands, beyond what most might deem wise... for all knew how badly they needed food, now that their meager supplies had been depleted. Perhaps they could return triumphant, with something worthy of a celebration of the Yule... but if not, then at least the others would have fewer mouths to feed.

Valea listened quietly, but the tidings were such that whatever jovial disposition she possessed evaporated as soon as the grim fate of Cunctator was revealed. "Destroyed, you say?" she said, half not wanting to believe it. "Are you certain of it?" At this Morwen nodded, and explained that she had seen his ashes herself. This only made Valea more uneasy, but she did not respond at once. But at length she turned to Virgilia, her protege, and spoke softly. "This matter is sensitive... Please see to Tiberius, and enjoy the baths. I will speak to Livia for a while; there is no need to disturb our guest further."

Both Barin and Cecil felt the name of the maiden at the tip of their tongues, for her face seemed familiar... and yet it remained elusive. They had heard of such tales from others who had seen the elves or caught glimpses of their feasts in the forest: the memories often faded or failed, until the episodes were only half-remembered as a scene from a dreamy realm, or a thing of the ancient past. But the maiden was gracious, and she quickly reminded them the name. "Galia of the Woodland Realm." She turned to Barin. "Ruithel speaks well of you, though she has told me nothing of your singing, and nothing of your companion." As the rest of the musicians slowly melted into the crowds, the three of them continued their conversations for as long as they wished. Far away from the main stage, Gramtyng played his somber music, and the warrior listened closely. He took of his helm, revealing himself to be Elstan, First Captain of Dale, commander of the Royal Barracks... one that Gram knew by his impeccable reputation, for he was well-loved here. He turned to his crowd of companions and motioned at them to fall silent, and at once they obeyed, allowing the bard to conclude his music. After that, Elstan approached Gram to congratulate him. Even if others preferred happier tunes, here was one at least that could appreciate his foreign music. He asked for Gram's name, and at length he invited him to the Royal Palace, in a few days' time, to perform before the king and his court... for reasonable compensation, of course. The music from the stage was more distant to Avena's ears, but her plan had proven sound, and copper flowed eagerly into her pockets as more and more folk came to her stall in search of the famed honey-cakes of the Beornings... Chapter 2: A Golden Prize Scene 4: The morning after Time: Morning after the opening ceremony Location: Outside the Missing Scale The companions were amongst the few that woke up early on the following morning. Most of the folk who had attended last night's celebrations favored the warmth and comfort of their beds, and many nursed headaches from the wine and ale that had been freely offered yesterday. But the company still sought to set out for old Mab soon, and Cecil was eager to secure supplies, and a cart and pony with which to transport them. Unfortunately, the Market Square was not as densely populated as yesterday. And so, the hobbit spent much of the morning searching for one that could provide what he needed at a fair price. At length he was able to negotiate as good a bargain as he could hope for, and though it would cost him a pretty penny, he could have his cart and pony by the morrow. Meanwhile, all others who, like Cecil, also ventured outside in the morning, woke up to discover posters nailed everywhere. These posters announced of contests that would be held today in honor of the Gathering: archery, strength, horsemanship, and a great melee to close the day. The servants of Lockmand (for that was the name of the mask-wearing merchant-prince that had announced it last night) had not been idle: they had cleared a large field outside Dale, between Ravensgate and the river. It was there that the contests would be held, and following that, a great feast was promised, to be held in the Market Square. All contestants-Dalish or outlanders, winners or losers-were welcome there and would be feasted for free, at Lockmand's expense. As the early hours passed, any companions curious enough to investigate found a largely growing crowd assembling outside the walls. It seemed as if every warrior of note in Dale, as well as half the fighting Dwarves of the Mountain and most of the wandering heroes and adventurers in the North, were signing up. A small army of clerks handled the entries, asking the contestants where they hailed from and which events they sought to join. OOC The outcome of previous rolls and actions: For his song, Gram is invited by Elstan, the First Captain of Dale, to play at the palace at a future date. Avena sells many honey-cakes, earning lots of copper coins (the equivalent of 2 Treasure). Also, -1 Hope for turning the failed roll into a successful one. Barin will remember Galia's name-she was the apprentice of Ruithel, the elf-path sentinel and commander that he (a) rescued from the mad dwarves Polin & Pomin in 'The King's Hunt' and (b) encountered near the forest gate in the opening of 'Those who Tarry no Longer'. Cecil manages to find a cart & pony, but it will cost him... either 2 Treasure points, or his standard of living should be temporarily reduced (from Prosperous to Frugal) until the end of the adventure. Your choice regarding which one to take (if you have 2 Treasure Points, that is). Let's continue towards the next day after this. The four contests are as follows: Archery: The relevant skills are Bow (any) and Awareness. Strength: This is basically a wrestling competition. The relevant skills are Awe and Athletics. Onlookers can also help their ally with a Riddle check, to give advice regarding tactics, strengths and weaknesses. Horse riding: This is riding quickly past a target on a horse and hit it with a spear (throwing or just impaling). The relevant skills are Athletics and Spear (any), but other melee weapon skills can also be used at a -1d6 penalty (i.e., reduce skill by 1 dot). Grand Melee: This is a giant mock battle where only one character can emerge as a victor. The battle is fought with blunted weapons, and the relevant skills are Battle and any melee weapon skill. The last phase is a fight with (more or less) normal combat rules. Please choose any event(s) you want to join (or none). You can join multiple ones, but must at least compete in one of the first three to be allowed to join the grand melee. The events will proceed from noon to the late evening in the order of archery -> strength -> horse riding -> Grand Melee. After that, a great feast will be held for all contestants. If some PCs compete while others don't, inactive PCs may participate in other ways; for example, they may place bets or try to help (e.g. with Fellowship Focus rules) or do other things like selling honey-cakes. Let me know what you choose to enter and I'll take it from there!

(Art credit: Inken Stabell, Winterreisse) 'Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north, Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then Corn of the coldest.' Ezra Pound, The Seafarer Third week of winter The long-expected snows came suddenly, by night, following a clear day. Thick grey clouds crept secretly under cover of darkness, blotting out the stars and the moon. By morning-time, winter's white shroud had encased all as far as the eye could see, though that was not much beyond a few yards. For there was no sign of it abating, and the snow piled on and on, and those that could read such things could guess that there were no chances of it ceasing anytime soon. Automn's last warmth also faded with this, and the air grew colder and drier. At least the winds had for now passed, but it was cold comfort. In their tower, the fires burned with what meager burning-wood they had managed to gather... but as Arbereth walked the broken halls and long-neglected corridors, she could sense the signs of a sickness that was spreading silently amongst the mortals. None of this was helped by the hunger that now afflicted them. OOC Ok, all the steps again: Count the dead. Since there's no NPCs with 2 hunger checks or 3 sickness checks, and since we managed to keep all the rooms heated, there's no dead for this round. Then it's time to forecast the weather (a 1d3 roll)... edit: a 1, so the weather actually gets slightly warmer. Since we have 4 rooms, we'll need to spend 1 x 4 = 4 fuel units to keep everything warm. Not updated yet. Then it's time to ration the supplies. We'll need to sacrifice food reserves and even then we're only left with 14 units of food; that means that at least 6 NPCs will die of starvation next round. Which ones? I don't think the PCs will be calling the shots, but some cases make sense; for example, Gudrun is too sick and will refuse to eat. That leaves another 5 to die; maybe we can randomly determine 1 NPC for each PC and then we'll have another one... Ok, 4, 3, 5 and 5... which means Wulfnoth, Asfrid, Eirnwyn and Gamrin will go hungry. We need another... let's determine randomly again, rolling 1d4 + 1d5 for row / column... Ok, it's Rhoven. So these NPCs are doomed. Let's finish of by updating: -14 food and -4 fuel. Then we gather new supplies. Definitely need food... Arbereth contributes 2d6 units of food, Idunn 1d6, and Varr and Svior each contribute 1d3 units of fuel each. Edit: Not great... 9 units of food and 2 fuel (updated). Occurrence time-a 2d6 roll. Edit: It says that the food supplies are spoiled... which means -1d6 (6) to food. Great.... Then sickness... 1d3 to determine the number. 2, randomly determined to be Borin and Stig. At the same time, the sickness of NPCs that were already ill progresses. Updated.

Asfrid sat by the entrance-hall, seeing to her sword. As the whetstone slid along the blade, the steel sang: a satisfying sound, as cold as the coming winter. A good sword, tested and true. She smiled, and thought that she ought to name it. If things worse than wolves sought to attack them, it would be sharp and ready. She did not fear such foes... thinking of them was a welcome distraction. Veig, her leader and employer, had already cut their rations. His decision had been understandable, and fair: for it was everyone, dwarves included, that had to share in the suffering. But her stomach did not comprehend such things, and it complained constantly. Others no doubt had to deal with the same starvation. Her strength still held, but it could not do so indefinitely. As she worked, she recalled her journeys. She had travelled far before, and she had faced hardships. Yet even the Long Marshes and the darkness of Mirkwood now seemed more welcoming than these bleak and forsaken northlands. And now a cough had found a home in her lungs. She had tried to hide it, but the elf had noticed it. "It's nothing." she had told her. It would soon pass, much like the dreadful cold. OOC For self-reference, here's Asfrid's backstory and her sheet. It's been a while. She's a wanderer and a sell-sword, and her traits are boating, trading, folk-lore, robust and clever.

Livia of Edessa [Mom: 5 (9/1) | Health: 4 | Spirit: 5 | Blood: 3 | Fails: 9 | CelerityI. When you Face Danger or Secure an Advantage using your unnatural speed, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. II. When you Strike or Clash and score a weak hit, you may inflict 1 harm only but maintain initiative. | MajestyI. (Awe) When you Secure an Advantage by manifesting your aura of supernatural charisma, add +1 and take +1 on a hit. II. (Confidant) Once per scene, reroll any dice when you Compel a victim that you have Awed to make a non life-threatening request. | ObfuscateI. (Face in the crowd) If you avoid drawing attention to yourself, you become unremarkable, blending into the background. | VigorI. When you Face Danger or Secure an Advantage using your unnatural strength, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. | HerbalistI. When you Face Danger +wits to heal a mortal, add +1 and take +1 spirit or +1 momentum on a hit. | Shadow-kinI. Once you become corrupted, you harden your heart. Add +1 to Shadow. | Shadow-WalkI. When you cloak yourself in the gossamer veil of the shadow realms, roll +shadow. On a strong hit, take +1 momentum. Then, reroll any dice (one time only) when you make a move by ambushing, hiding, or sneaking. On a weak hit, as above, but the shadows try to lead you astray. You must first Face Danger to find your way. III. When you perform this ritual, add +1 and take +1 momentum on a hit. (OFF)] How to begin? Morwen understood somewhat the delicacy of her predicament, but she knew little about the underlying processes and protocols that were necessary at present. Still, she smiled. Valea had urged her to ask for her aid in any matter: it was time to put her offer to the test. She begun apprehensively. "You may have heard of the disappearance of one Caius Julius Cunctator. An esteemed member of the Senex. He was last seen near his hunting grounds, which are not far from where I have my haven." She paused, and sought to read Valea's response, to guess if she had heard any of this, and to what extent. A task that proved impossible, as there was no reaction. "I have been tasked by Julius Corbulo to look into this matter. I am loathe to say it, but Cunctator has been destroyed. His killer is still at large... and it was, I believe, his killer that embraced Tiberius, seeking to place an obstacle in my path. So I come to you for counsel: for I do not know what the Camarilla would have me do in this situation." OOC Let's just try a Secure an Advantage +heart. Edit: A miss. Let's go for a narrative Pay the Price for now. +1 to the failure track.

With Tiberius having passed the test, or at least proven able to protect part of his Roman dignity, matters turned elsewhere. To her credit, Valea wasted no more of their time to toy with them further. "You mentioned a matter of great import? Please, speak freely." she urged as Virgilia's quiet and soft melodies echoed through the chamber.

Virgilia turned to the task with insistence and increasing vigor, prompting a comment from an amused and somewhat bemused Valea. "No biting." At this, Virgilia paused for a moment and turned to her, and flashed a quick smile, before returning all of her attention back to a passive Tiberius. He neither resisted her, but nor did he return her affections. But this did not appear to discourage her. Yet at length she found herself without choice but to give up the effort, and turning to her mistress, she commented with a chuckle: "Perhaps he prefers boys?" At this Valea smiled back, uncertain about such interpretation. "Perhaps..." she answered, but she seemed unconvinced. "Or perhaps he is just as dead as the rest of us." With a smile and a gentle bow, Virgilia exited the waters, and soon took her place sitting by the pool, where she begun to play softly a cithara.

Honestly, I also did the same a while back. I'm reasonably familiar with 1e but new-ish to 2e, and hope to return to it after I wrap up a few other things. But please feel free to reach out-if I can help with anything, I'm happy to!

I hope that it is not too rude of me to intrude (and if yes, (1) sorry and (2) please feel free to delete my comment) but I saw your game, and I am very happy that others are trying Strider Mode, and I am excited to read along! If I may, I think that for Strider Mode, the attribute-related Target Numbers become a bit less draconian by RAW, namely 18-stat instead of the usual 20-stat. I think the game creators recognized that solo adventurers need all the help they can get! But I could also be mistaken, as I have not checked Strider Mode rules recently... Anyway, looking forward to reading Anarthil's adventures!

(Caldarium with hypocaust by ISODESIGN) A few mortals stood in the room that hosted the caldarium. Not all of them slaves: some seemed to Morwen like ghouls, ostensibly here to enjoy the baths with Valea. And at least another kindred: one that she recalled from Comitor's orgy, though not one that she had spoken to before. The name eluded her. Tiberius sat quiet at the corner, his gaze fixated on an unremarkable point upon the ceiling. None of Morwen's words had helped in easing his tense demeanor. He remained cold and distant as Morwen and Valea made smalltalk, sulking in the background. At first he was ignored, but as time passed, Valea found it increasingly difficult to do so. "Your friend is unusually quiet." she said at length with a smile, turning her eyes upon him as she examined his naked form carefully. Tiberius did not speak, making it necessary for Morwen to give the answer for him. "Forgive him, Magistrate... he is only freshly turned, and he is unaccustomed to such luxuries... A soldier's life does not one prepare for such existence." Valea smiled, and gave a nod. "I understand." she said. "There is a time for everything. But such things are easy to grow accustomed to." She motioned to a figure in the room that had been busy discussing quietly with others in the corner. This was the vampire that Morwen had recognized, but whose name she did not recall. As she approached, Morwen noted her delicate, Anatolian features, her lithe form and her impeccable posture. "Virgilia." Valea called with a wide smile, "Let us show this valorous soldier our hospitality." At once Virgilia disrobed and stepped slowly into the pool. Then, slowly approaching Tiberius, he stood before him for a moment, and before long begun to caress him. She pressed her body against his, first gently, and then tightly, and she kissed him deeply, and at length her hand drifted searchingly below the surface of the waters of the caldarium. All the while, Valea watched, amused, as Tiberius failed to resist her, his faint protestations drowned under Virgilia's strokes, ever growing in passionate intensity. OOC Let's Ask the Oracle to see if Tiberius... well... you know. Let's set it at unlikely (yes on 76+) since he's dead now.