Act 1, Part 1: The Swordlord's Feast

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

Although her duties caused her to miss the first four questions, and the short conversations that followed, Niviq'zis returned to the main hall - out of breath - just in time to hear Verne's never-have-I-ever. Sinking into her seat, she took Zakon's abandoned (and nearly full) wine glass in hand but did not drink from the cup. Since Verne was to her left, she assumed she had missed her turn, but was curious if how many of the others had actually traded little bits of metal for a safe place to exist for one more evening. Mortals were fascinating.

 

Edited January 4, 2023 by BlackHat (see edit history)

[Kavonde]

Millanius gets a lot of different looks in response to his never-have-I-ever. Some amused (Maegar and Linzi), some annoyed (Valerie and Jaethal), and one baffled (Amiri). Harrim, for his part, looks as placid as ever. But everyone at the table takes a drink.

 

"You're really going to be in for a treat," Linzi says brightly.

 

"You poor, dumb mayfly," Jaethal mutters at the same time.

 

Valerie prepares for her turn, but looks honestly relieved when Verne, apparently not understanding the rules, jumps in. He also gets a mix of reactions as everyone drinks again.

 

"I knew a man who never paid for lodging for years," Harrim observes. "Right up until they finally got around to executing him." From his unchanging expression and morose voice, it's impossible to tell if the dwarf is making a joke or not.

 

"Oh, we skipped Valerie!" Linzi realizes, much to the knight's obvious chagrin. "And, um... I'm sorry, I don't know your name," she adds, nodding to Niviq'zis.

 

Valerie gives the halfling an annoyed look, then catches herself and resumes her polite mask. "Never have I ever stolen anything."

 

Jaethal, Linzi, and Maegar drink immediately. Harrim has to think about it for a second before taking a pull himself. Amiri laughs. "I've never stolen, but I've beaten the crap outta someone and taken their stuff before. That count?"

 

"That would be mugging," Valerie replies dryly. "So, yes."

 

"Great!" Amiri gulps down half a tankard more. The server who has resignedly taken up permanent position next to the barbarian tops her off again.

 

"I believe that makes it your turn," Maegar says, nodding to Niviq'zis.

Edited January 4, 2023 by Kavonde (see edit history)

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

Niviq'zis had also never stolen something and continued eye Zakon's goblet, although with her black eyes it was difficult to tell where she was looking. "You can call me 'Niviq'zis'." the spider-in-human-form replies to Linzi. Later, when the turn comes around to her again, Niviq'zis thinks for a moment before selecting her statement. "Never... have... I ever... cast a spell!" Since this, too, was something she had never done, she continued to restrain herself. Surely, however, some of her master's companions would drink and say something of the magic that they command.

[Kavonde]

Niviq'zis gets some odd looks from the others seated around the table; honestly, she's just a bit creepy. Amiri in particular looks unsettled by her.

 

Regardless, Harrim and Linzi drink. "Technically," the dwarf notes glumly, "I don't think they're called 'spells' if you're just asking a god to do something for you, but I think I should count."

 

Maegar, meanwhile, smirks over his goblet and looks down the table to Valerie. "Now, I think I should remind you all that cheating is strongly frowned upon in this game. And I think our lady knight here is being less than honest."

 

Valerie frowns. "About what?"

 

"Stealing and casting spells."

 

The knight stares at Maegar, clearly confused.

 

"Well, with your beauty, my lady," Maegar clarifies with a smile, "surely you've stolen many hearts and bewitched many admirers."

 

Valerie's stare crystalizes into ice. Maegar makes a little sound, like he's trying to indicate where the joke is. Valerie keeps staring. Maegar's smile falters, and he looks around for rescue. "Master Harrim!" he calls. "I believe you're next."

 

"Never have I ever," the dwarf says sorrowfully, "seen the point of it all."

 

There's a heavy, awkward silence as everyone processes that. Then, Amiri and Jaethal drink.

 

"To be the strongest!" the barbarian explains, grinning.

 

"To survive," Jaethal says, examining the contents of her goblet. "Never have I ever understood how a group of short-lived idiots could waste their limited time on foolish games when their mortality is always so near at hand."

 

"Okay, we need to rearrange the table so that you and Harrim aren't adjacent for the next round," Maegar observes. However, staring Jaethal defiantly in the eyes, he takes a drink. Linzi, Amiri, and, oddly enough, Harrim all follow suit.

 

"What's the point of living without little moments of joy?" Linzi asks.

 

"And everyone needs to be distracted from the inevitable end once in awhile," Harrim adds. "It will come no matter what we do. It doesn't care if we try to ignore it."

 

Maegar lifts his cup for a refill, looking around the table. "And that's a full circle. Shall we play another round?"

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

"Oh? Which gods answer your prayers?" Niviq'zis asked the dwarf, after his comment. "Are there other faithful, among you?" she asked everyone else at the table, curious how many among them have made pacts with gods.

"A witch-knight!" she exclaims, after Maegar's awkward attempt at flirting with Valarie. "May I meet your familiar?" 

When Harrim states that he had never seen the point of it all, Niviq'zis hesitates a moment, to think, but then eagerly takes a sip from the goblet, without commentary. She seemed surprised but not put off by the taste of the wine. She took a much larger gulp at Jaethal's statement, whether to indicate a stronger agreement or just because she liked the first sip so much. 

"I retain this form until the stroke of midnight." She said, not exactly answering the question about whether or not they should play another round. "And I have not yet emptied Master's cup."

[Kistler]

Millanius the Arcane - Human Thaumaturge 1 HP: 17/17 | AC: 18 | Perception: +5 Fort: +6 | Ref: +6 | Will: +5  | Conditions: None ResourcesCharacter: -Hero Points: 1/3 -Focus Points: 0/0 Items: - | Spells/ScrollsScrolls: - Cantrips:  - Level 1: - | Skills*Acrobatics: +6 *Arcana: +3 Athletics: +1 Crafting: +0 *Deception: +8 *Diplomacy20: +8 *Esoteric Lore: +7 Intimidate: +5 Medicine: +0 *Nature: +3 *Occultism: +3 *Performance: +7 *Politics Lore: +3 *Religion: +3 Society: +0 *Stealth: +6 Survival: +0 *Thievery: +6 *Trained   Consumables: None   Effects: None

---

As the rounds progress Millanius sips when Verne mentions paying for lodging, swigs when Valerie say she's never stolen, gulps when the poor slave-girl talks of spell casting, hesitates when Harrim waxes nihilistic, and chugs when Jaethal speaks again. Stitches drinks for all of it, though of a less intoxicating brew. Some kind soul took it upon themselves to bring him the juice of some fruit.

 

The magician litsens to the conveshation as he drinks sheveral more times, chiming in occashunally with comments of diminishing cogenshy. He can't help but feel jusht a touch targeted there. The room does appeer to be shpinning slightly. Probably some sort of temporal dishturbence. Magicks, powerful magicksh...

 

"I do think it's time to take my leave." He says, rising and swaying a bit. "A fond goodnight to you all. Now if shomeone could row me to my shoom?" He thinks of departing with a trick, but he knows when his faciities are uncapcitated, and thinks better of it.

 

---

OOC/Actions Other: Roll25 Deception Action 1:  Action 2:  Action 3:  Reaction: Recognize Spell Free:

Familiar/Other Modifiers Stitches the Monkey | 5/5HP | AC18 Per: +5/Fort: +6/Ref: +6/Will: +5 -Low-light Vision -Manual Dexterity -Valet -25' Land Speed   Effects: -15' Aura, Circ bonus to Dip/Int/Dec & +1 v. Fear -Success v Mental is crit success -+2 Damage from empowerment -Activate any Scroll

Gear Worn -Clothing (Winter) -Studded Leather Armor -Backpack -Belt Pouch -Thieves' Tools   Weapons -Sword Cane -Dagger -5x Darts -Scepter (Regalia)   Containers Masterwork Backpack -Bedroll -Lantern, hooded -Rations (1 week) -Rope (50') -5x Sacks -5x Torches -Waterskin   Bandolier -3x Flasks Oil -Manacles (poor) -5x Sacks   Belt/Pouch -10x Chalk -Flint and Steel -Playing Cards -Thieves' Tools -Soap -2x Candles -3sp, 7cp

 

Edited January 5, 2023 by Kistler (see edit history)

[Kavonde]

Harrim gives Niviq'zis an appreciative look when she asks which god he prays to. "Groetus, actually. The God of the End Times. Pharasma keeps him trapped in her Boneyard for now, but that's fine. He'll be free sooner or later." From his lips, this doesn't sound at all menacing; it's more like the owner of a particularly mischievous cat fondly acknowledging that, no matter what steps he takes to keep his companion out of the treats, the cunning feline will find a way eventually.

 

Jaethal nods at the question about additional godly servants. "I serve my goddess, though not as the dwarf does his mad moon."

 

One of the servants hustles up to Millanius, taking his arm to steady him. "Right this way, sir. I'll guide you to your room." He begins leading him towards the eastern set of double doors.

 

Valerie once again tries a signaling stretch and yawn. "Well, if the mighty wizard is turning in, I think I'll--"

 

"I wanna do another round!" Linzi cries. "I've got a good one! I wanna do my good one."

 

Amiri laughs as the excited halfling sways in her seat. "You're drunk!"

 

"I'm savoring a little moment of joy," Linzi replies, placing her hands on her hips and pouting. "And my last one was bad, so I wanna do another."

 

"That's one vote," Maegar observes.

 

"I can keep going," Amiri boasts. "I hardly even feel... " She belches like a sudden thunderclap, silencing the hall. "I hardly even feel timpsy yet," she finishes.

 

"Tipsy," Linzi corrects her.

 

"Whatever," Amiri says, unconcerned. "C'mon! You're in, right, kid?" She reaches over to try and pat Verne on the shoulder, but just sort of ends up waving her hand in his direction.

 

"Is he even old enough to drink?" Valerie wonders.

 

"His mouth is made of lava," Linzi retorts, waggling a finger towards the knight. "So he's old enough." She nods decisively for emphasis.

 

"I wasn't aware of that particular law," Maegar observes, amused.

 

"Ask the judge guy. He'll know. Hey, Niv... Niviz... Niviz'qik. That's a law, right? The lava thing. It's a law."

 

Jaethal smirks. "I think the halfling is going to die of alcohol poisoning."

 

"There are worse ways to go," notes Harrim.

 

"So... round two?" Maegar prompts. "Two in. Harrim? Three. Ah, Valerie, wonderful."

 

"What?" Valerie asks, surprised. "No, I was just going to say I'm--"

 

"I'll stay in, if only to watch the halfling die," Jaethal says.

 

"Five, plus myself for six," Maegar counts. "Who else?"

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

"I am not as familiar with the mortal laws of this land as my Master," Niviq'zis admits. "... but we are soon to be leaving this land and its laws behind, no?" She takes a small sip from her own cup. She may only have the form of a human but she certainly appears guilty of some underage drinking, herself. "If each group is to establish their own laws, and hold themselves to as high or low a standard as they wish, perhaps it shall be a law that if your mouth is made of lava, you are old enough to drink."

"I will play again, if you will have me," Niviq'zis clarifies, submissively, not sure if Maegar was counting her, or not - or if all of this talk of who was and was not allowed to drink had complicated the situation.

[PlotDevice]

Verne Greencloak | HP: 16/16 | AC: 15  Fort: +3  Ref: +4  Will: +9 | Hero Points: 1/1

---

Verne drinks after the spells.  He slumps back in his seat, drifting into a philosophical mood.

 

When Harrim speaks, he doesn't drink, instead saying, "There is no point, Harrim.  Why would there be a point?  While we live, we follow our natures, when we die, we stop.  The cycle repeats, again and again, from the beginning of time until its end.  But just because there's no point doesn't mean you can't be happy.  Live free of purpose, and free of goals, and try to enjoy your experiences.

 

Then he looks at Jaethal, as her turn follows the outburst of comments, and shakes his head.  "Anything anyone does is a waste of time.  And nothing is a waste of time.  What makes any activity better than another?  Mortality and immortality mean nothing, life is life, and its duration is irrelevant.  The universe has no purpose for your life, so you can't waste time, you can only spend your time as you see fit, and it doesn't matter what you do.  If you live for a thousand years, or you live for 10 years, there was a time before when you were nothing, and there will be a time after you pass when you and all your works are nothing.  So find happiness and fulfillment in the moment, or find misery in the moment, whichever you prefer to do.  You can try to change the world, but do it because the effort makes you happy, not because you think your changes will be forever."

 

After that speech, he drinks, and he smiles at Linzi's remark.  Letting the flurry of conversation pass, he says, "Linzi has the right of it.  Moments of joy are wonderful.  And as for me, I believe I'm old enough to drink by the laws of this land, and even if not, I don't really care about them anyway.  I'll keep drinking."

 

He swirls the dark liquid in his cup, and though his voice was not slurred, his hands seem to be lacking in fine motor control, as he accidentally flings the cup to the table.  He looks at it sadly, then looks pleadingly at the servant nearby, happily receiving a fresh glass of port.  He holds it up more carefully this time, seeming to forget the rules as he takes a drink, then says, "Never have I ever worn something made out of skin.  I think it's creepy.  When I was with my people, I would only wear wool."  As if to prove his point, he leans back in his chair, teetering dangerously, and puts his feet up on the table - they are bare, and incredibly dirty.  He settles into his new pose, relaxing to the point of seeming actually drowsy, despite the fact that he seems like he could be dumped to the floor at any moment, as his chair wavers on two legs.

 

Edited January 5, 2023 by PlotDevice (see edit history)

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

"You wear each other's skin?" Niviq'zis makes an distasteful expression before inspecting her own clothing. "I don't think this is skin...." She does not drink.

Edited January 7, 2023 by BlackHat (see edit history)

[Kavonde]

Verne's words to Harrim draw a tiny bit of expression from the dwarf: a small curve of the lips that could almost be mistaken for a smile. He lifts his mug in a small salute.

 

When he presents his Never-Have-I-Ever, though, Verne gets a set of very confused looks that linger for several seconds before Linzi suddenly snaps her fingers and and announces, "Oh! He means leather!"

 

Comprehension settles around the table as everyone processes this, and every single cup is lifted.

 

"So, what, you don't have a belt or a backpack or anything?" Amiri asks the young druid.

 

"I suppose it is sort of creepy, if you think about it," Harrim says. "You kill something... you scrape off its skin... then you walk around wearing the skin... "

 

"It depends on the source," Maegar says. "A leather jerkin made from a deer? That's an efficient use of resources. A leather jerkin made from your cousin? Raises some questions."

 

"Human skin makes terrible leather anyway," Jaethal observes.

 

Valerie rolls her eyes. "Yes, we get it, you have a very dark sense of humor."

 

Jaethal gives her a level look, raising an eyebrow slightly. Valerie can't hold her gaze for long and soon turns away, her face pale.

 

"Never have I ever," Maegar begins after another moment, "broken one of my bones. Despite so very many opportunities to do so."

 

Amiri, Valerie, and Jaethal drink.

 

"I jammed my pinkie once," Linzi volunteers, "but it wasn't broken."

 

"Dwarven bones are too thick," says Harrim. "They don't break easily. Though they eventually crumble to dust like any others."

 

"I broke my hand when I was a runt," Amiri says. "Punching a stupid mammoth that wouldn't move. Cracked its tusk right in half! It learned to listen to me after that!" She pauses to think for a moment, tapping her chin, before presenting her next challenge. "Never have I ever, uh... signed my name on something!"

 

Linzi, Valerie, Maegar, and Jaethal all drink immediately. Harrim has to think for a moment before he does as well.

 

"If you want to keep that streak alive, I think you should stay far away from that judge tomorrow," Maegar tells her.

 

"Ha! He tries to make me sign somethin', I'll sign it with his face!"

 

"That would still be signing it, though," Linzi observes.

 

"Shut up," Amiri grunts. "It's your turn, anyway."

 

Linzi brightens. "Oh yeah! Oh, man, I've got a really good one. Okay, um... " The bard's face, already flushed with alcohol, reddens further as she tries to focus. "Okay, okay, um, never have I ever... n-eeeever have I ever... "

 

"This is it," Jaethal says, leaning forward eagerly. "This is where she dies."

 

"Come on," Valerie says, her tone somewhere between encouraging and annoyed.

 

"Never have I ever... never have I ever... "

 

A spark flashes behind Linzi's eyes as a pair of intoxicated brain cells drift within range of each other, and she grins. "Never have I ever... farted in public!"

 

She gets a series of blank stares.

 

And then Harrim adjusts his position slightly on the bench, lifting one cheek slightly, and unleashes a long, rumbling torrent of wind.

 

He looks at everyone wordlessly for a moment. Then he lifts his mug and drinks.

 

"That's it, I'm done," Valerie announces disgustedly. She pushes herself away from the table, standing a little unsteadily, and gestures for one of the attendants.

 

"Lady Despair, that is foul," complains Jaethal, somehow turning even paler as she also stands and leaves the table.

 

Linzi looks at their reactions and starts giggling, quickly increasing in intensity so much that she curls on her side on the bench... and a few seconds later, she's snoring gently.

[PlotDevice]

Verne Greencloak | HP: 16/16 | AC: 15  Fort: +3  Ref: +4  Will: +9 | Hero Points: 1/1

---

Verne drinks only for the signing.  He still seems to be dozing, then when Harrim farts, Shardik immediately trots out from under the table and rushes across the room to safety.  His passing seems to unbalance Verne, somehow, and the chair's legs scrape for a moment, as it slides forward, then tips back, dumping the young man on the floor unceremoniously.  His fall is drunkenly boneless, and he starts trying to get up, but then with a sniff he seems to notice the foul stench.  He scurries across the floor on all fours until he joins Shardik, then leans on the bear cub to help himself up.  The two wander off into the residential wing, looking for an empty room to stay in for the night.

[BlackHat]

Niviq'zis HP: 5/5 | AC: 13 | Perception: +5 Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +8

Niviq'zis did not drink to having broken a bone. She did drink about signing their name, to nobody's surprise. Finally, she did not drink to the fart but as it began to clear the room, she also put some distance between herself and Harrim. Things seemed to be winding down anyway. Harrim just put the nail in the coffin. "I hope to see each of you tomorrow."

[Spektor]

Antonia Rullianus

---

 

AC: 17 | HP: 19/19 | Per: +5 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +8 | Will: +5 | Hero: 1/1 | Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elven

---

As she made her way back down to the main chamber, Antonia split away from Lerris and made her way nearest to the exit. She trusted Lerris would do as promised if only for the reason that she trusted in her own ability to be convincing. Her gait was slow, as she did not want to reach the doors too quickly. Her perceptive gaze searched the possible marks along her route to the doors and it only took a second to find the perfect one. One of the hired 'heroes' – a mercenary with too much ale in his gut and too much coin in his purse. The edge of her lips curled slightly upwards and she changed the trajectory of her walk to ensure she would walk near him.

 

Once the distraction began, her walk suddenly became more sloppy as she feigned drunkenness. The dark-haired woman made sure that the mercenary was in her path and she looked over her shoulder towards Lerris, acting the part of someone who was leaving yet wanted to know what was going on before doing so. It seemed she was not watching where she was going and she bumped directly into the mercenary, letting out an audible "Oof! Oh! My word, I'm so terribly sorry dear. I was just on my way out." She placed one hand on the mans chest apologetically and the other hand deftly removed the man's coin pouch from his belt and tucked it into a small side pack near her weapon. Antonia then swiftly made her exit to drop her letter, along with the retrieved coinage, in a hidden space outside the manor.

 

The entire act took her just over seven minutes, at which point she returned back to the main chamber, being certain not to 'accidentally bump' into anyone else along the way, especially the man she had robbed from. It would be best, at this point, to find her room and settle in for the night. Tomorrow's dawn would bring a long journey...

[Rider Z]

Lerris Ninthborne

---

HP: 20/20 | AC: 17 |  Per: + 4 | Fort: +7 | Ref: +3 |Will: +7  | Hero 1/1 | Languages: Common (Taldane), Hallit, Skald

---

 

Just as he figured Antonia expected, Lerris did as she asked once the two made their way back into the main hall. He still of course had the slight worry that he was aiding her in a scheme that was less than appropriate. But he had made a promise, and for Lerris a promise made was a promise kept. That had left him the singular problem of the distraction. But just as he had figured earlier, Lerris had no issue with it. It had been his previous area of expertise after all.

Hells, Lerris didn't even need to lie or cheat to be distracting. All he needed to do was simply be himself. If a man drank a bit too much, talked a bit too much, and carried himself with a voice a bit too loud... well, that was enough to draw eyes in most circumstances. Especially when it came to Lerris, who had a habit of going on longwinded speeches filled half-learned wisdoms of his past. It was half-way through one of said speeches that Lerris caught Antonia slip out of the room from a corner of his eye, and he thanked the gods above for that blessing because he wasn't quite sure his liver would have survived the night if she had left any later.

 

"Well that's it for me, gonna turn in for the night. Think I ought to save one of my liver's at least to celebrate after we've dealt with this Stag Lord, eh?" Lerris said with a chuckle, and a slight stumble, to anyone who would listen as he stood up out of his chair. He clumsily pushed the chair back in, figuring drunkenness was no excuse for impoliteness. Then Lerris marched his way out of the main hall and to whatever room had been provided for him. He found himself feeling particularly good on that walk, energized and excited. He had a good feeling about tomorrow and all the days that came afterwards. They would be hard, sure. Hardest of his life he figured, and that was saying something. But it was a chance, a chance to finally make things right. Both for himself, and the world. And no matter weight of misery, it sure as hells couldn't tip the scales against a chance like that.