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

[Grimgravy]

Rhenmyr shrugs at the horse, only one thing to try. Rhenmyr takes the lock of hair in extended hand and slowly approaches the horse. He is careful to stay out of bite range and alert to dart out of the way unless he gets a positive reaction. Either way Rhenmyr volunteers to watch the prisoners for what's left of the night if no one will split watches wit him.

"I'll stand guard if any of you need to sleep. Any volunteers for a second watch?"

 

[Siveon]

Marcán raises one hand in a lazy manner. "I'm up for it, but I really think you should stop messing with that damn horse." Marcán turns to face the two goons. "And when Zelkor's wife wakes up we'll see what she wants to do with you. I'll tell her you complied but had little involvement with the murder. So, we couldn't get anything useful out of the both of you. I'm a man of my word after all, it's been a long night and I have no taste for torture. Pray your boss doesn't sell you out." Marcán starts to walk out the stable to get his rest when he sees Rhenmyr.

"Rhenmyr. I ask that you please leave the insane horse alone. The last thing we need is the whole town to panic again." He holds one hand to his forehead and mutters to himself, "Haven't had a lick of booze yet I still feel hungover."

 

[nikolokolus]

Rhenmyr shrugs at the horse, only one thing to try. Rhenmyr takes the lock of hair in extended hand and slowly approaches the horse. He is careful to stay out of bite range and alert to dart out of the way unless he gets a positive reaction. Either way Rhenmyr volunteers to watch the prisoners for what's left of the night if no one will split watches wit him.

"I'll stand guard if any of you need to sleep. Any volunteers for a second watch?"

As Rhenmyr extends the lock of hair, the horse suddenly snaps its teeth at his hand.

Spoiler

I know you said you're taking precautions, but the horse has definitely had enough. Roll for surprise on a d6. If you get surprised the horse is going to try and take a bit out of your hand, if you avoid surprise you'll be able to withdraw your hand in time . . .

 

[Helly]

Ker thanks the innkeeper. "If possible, I'd like the midwife to look at him tomorrow when she feels better. I'll check on my comrades and come back soon."
Then as he leaves the place towards the stable with the old man, Ker sees Rhenmyr trying to appease an angered horse. "What the... Be careful, he doesn't seem very friendly! Marcán, I'll get the old man a place to sleep in the stables and I'm off to get some rest too. If you wake me up again this time I'll kick your butt!"

 

[Helly]

"I just want her to look at him, see if she recognizes him. He might be related to Zelkor for all we know."

 

[nikolokolus]

"I just want her to look at him, see if she recognizes him. A midwife must know a lot of people around here."

The bartender looks over his shoulder at the passed out woman. "Look friend, it'll have to keep until the morning. I'm not waking her up unless it's some kind of life 'n death situation. Now if'n you'll excuse me, I need to sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

 

[bert]

Sokrates finally makes his way back to the longhouse after a moment's prayer and rest outside. It was time for another round of ales!

 

[nikolokolus]

As Sokrates opens the door he finds the large open hall dimly lit. You look over to see the bartender curling up on a table with a fur blanket wrapped over his shoulders. Zelkor's wife Ophelia is head-down at the table next to her dead husband and the small retinue of slaves have curled up around the base of the central firepit ... nobody here looks to be in a drinking mood with dawn fast approaching.

(It's entirely up to you if you want to wake people up ... although I suppose it's possible for you to serve yourself)

 

[Helly]

"I just want her to look at him, see if she recognizes him. A midwife must know a lot of people around here."

Spoiler

Maybe we're thinking of a different word? When I read "midwife," I'm assuming you're talking about somebody in the ancient sense of the word helped deliver babies or might have rudimentary healing skills. Are you talking about Zelkor's widow?

Spoiler

I reread the whole thread, I don't know why but I was sure she was a midwife. I might have misread goodwife... My bad! I'll just edit my post so that it makes sense

 

[nikolokolus]

FYI

I updated the House Rules document with a table of contents, cleaned up some of its organization and tightened up some sloppy/unclear sections if people want to give it a look HERE)

 

[nikolokolus]

"I just want her to look at him, see if she recognizes him. A midwife must know a lot of people around here."

Spoiler

Maybe we're thinking of a different word? When I read "midwife," I'm assuming you're talking about somebody in the ancient sense of the word helped deliver babies or might have rudimentary healing skills. Are you talking about Zelkor's widow?

Spoiler

I reread the whole thread, I don't know why but I was sure she was a midwife. I might have misread goodwife... My bad! I'll just edit my post so that it makes sense

Spoiler

OK, not a big deal. I edited my post above to reflect your intent.

 

[Grimgravy]

surprise

Surprise [1d6] = 4

Best to leave the beast be, Rhenmyr thinks. He backs off and finds a comfortable spot watch both the thugs, the Hyperborean, and the horse with spear and shield in hand, waiting for morning or being relieved of the watch.

 

[nikolokolus]

OK.

Marcán & Rhenmyr each settles into a comfortable position, where they can watch the prisoners. Everybody else drifts off to sleep or (drinks themselves into a coma in Sokrates' case.)

The night passes on into morning and the baleful orange sun slowly climbs its way into the sky, burning off the dense fog from the night into a light mist. Around mid-morning people begin to stir in the outpost; slaves move about doing their morning chores, wood is chopped, smoke curls out of the longhouse's central chimney. The motley crew spends a fitful morning trying to catch some sleep when they are startled by a light rapping at the stable door a few hours before noon. You slide the door open to see a large haggard woman standing in the doorway with her fists clenched tightly beside her. In one hand she holds a rather vicious looking cleaver.

Your Hyperborean prisoner turns on his side sluggishly at the sound of the noise and his eyes open (He's still bound and gagged).

Spoiler

If you were wounded in the fight, you regain 1 HP (+ 1 HP if you have a 13+ Constitution). Praying for, or memorizing spells takes 1 turn per spell level.

 

[Siveon]

Marcán immediately springs forward between the woman and the Hyperborean (he should be awake at this hour). "Greetings madam! How, er, how could I be of assistance?" Marcán thinks, besides murdering our one good lead.

 

[Grimgravy]

"Let the bard try to talk down the widow", Rhenmyr thinks, "but should she demand all their heads, she's welcome to them. One is definitely a murderer and the thugs are less forthcoming than they should be."

 

[nikolokolus]

Ophelia fumes, "Where is he? Where are the bastards that killed Zelkor? I'm going to cut their balls off and have them for a necklace." She cranes her neck trying to look over Marcán's shoulder. "Bring them out here!"

 

[Siveon]

Marcán sighs. "Ophelia, right? Listen, we just interrogated the two men that was with the Hyperborean man last night. They claimed to have no involvement in the act and were simply taking a job moving cargo. In this case it was an old man but that's neither here nor there. We couldn't confirm it with the man we believe to have killed Zelkor, the Hyperborean, as he received a stab wound in the neck and couldn't talk. We had to wait the night so it'll heal. If I don't get this information out of him, we'll never find out why your husband was killed in the first place. You would take revenge on some mere underling and not go after the bastard that started this shit?!"

Marcán takes a deep breath. "I knew Zelkor. If you recall I was the Fionghall's son who frequented your husband's ferry. I understand your plight but I just need an hour or two with this man. Give me that much before you start dealing punishments! Alright?" Marcán blocks the way with an outstretched hand. "I don't want this to resort to violence now."

 

[ERYFKRAD]

In response to Ophelia's outcries, Borric simply stands in front of the door, silently daring anyone to try crossing him, his hand gripping his maul.

 

[bert]

Sokrates spends the late late night and early early morning drinking himself to a stupor. He dozed off, head face down at the bar dreaming about things, mostly women, not that he was really allowed to fool around as a paladin of Mitra. At last Sokrates wakes up, well into the morning. All his body's joints ached and his face especially was numb from being planted against the hard wood table. "Mrrghh.." Sokrates groans as he stands back up. Groggily, he splashes his face with some water from his waterskin and goes to check out the stables.

 

[nikolokolus]

Ophelia's mouth goes agape and her face turns a deep crimson when she sees Borric's posturing, "Are you threatening me!? On my land?! Look here you inbred, ice-brained ape, I don't take orders from caravan guards in my house! . . . Certainly not with my husband laying dead at this bastard's hand not but 100 feet away!!" she shrieks as she waggles her finger under Borric's nose.

Ophelia's ample chest heaves angrily as she turns to Marcán, "You're right I do know you and you were always a good lad plus I like your father, so I'm going to take you at your word when you say these two had nothing to do with it." She casually waves her hand in the direction of the lackeys. "But you know as well as I do that the Ferry isn't under your kin's domain ... and even though we've always been friendly with you folk and gods know you've done more for us these past twenty years than those effete bastards across the river, I demand blood for blood. That's always been our way and you know it. That bastard dies! Either you'll do it, or I will. You've got 10 minutes."

As Ophelia finishes her rant, the Hyperborean sits up and you can hear him laughing through his gag until he starts to cough violently. Theron and Erasmos both look on with slightly fearful expressions written on their faces.

 

[Helly]

After a short rest and lengthy meditation, Ker leaves the inn to check on the prisoners and the others.
As he gets closer to the stables, he hears the discussion between Ophelia and Marcan.
"Ophelia, you have my condolences. I am sure your husband is hunting on the allfather's ground at this very moment. Regarding that criminal, give us some time with him. For all we know, he may be the first of many and we might all be in danger soon. We must know before doing anything drastic"

 

[Siveon]

Marcán gulps. "Ker, this isn't really a matter of debate. Trust me. However, I do have one last trick up my sleeve if things go south. Watch Ophelia." Marcán walks to the Hyperborean and takes off his gag. He looks at him dead in the eye, and asks in a strained voice, "Why did you kill Zelkor? Did somebody send you? And just who was that old man that you brought in?"

Marcán then leans up to him and whispers, "If you have any thoughts of surviving this day you'll tell me everything that I need to know."

 

[bert]

Sokrates arrives just at the moment of Ophelia's outburst. Seeing her reaction along with Borric patting his two-handed maul makes Sokrates quickly put two an two together, and he steps in to firmly but gently grab her from behind by the shoulders. It is an attempt to soothe the raging woman in the mean time. "No...no! No.. Mitra?" Sokrates utters those syllables out to the best of his degree and leaves her in his grasp, occasionally trying to calm her by patting her shoulder.

He gives a friendly, respectful nod of acknowledgement to everyone in the stables, except for the Hyperborean which he gives only a masked, vacant stare. He looks with curiosity as the Hyperborean's gag is removed, quick to step in if physical harm is brought upon anyone including the Hyperborean.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Borric laughs in appreciation of Ophelia's rant, "I ordered nothing of anyone. But then, if ten minutes is what we have, ten minutes is what we'll take."
He walks to Marcan, and urges quietly, "Is there any thing you know of these Hyperborean filth we can use against them? Cultural taboos, fears, anything?"

 

[Smashing Axe]

Heron rests for the night in the inn, having given up on the horse. He departs the inn with a mutter "The damned thing is unnatural. Might be we can slip something in its food, put it towards sleep."

The next day he spends an hour reading his weather-worn spellbook before going out to observe the commotion quietly. He keeps a close eye on the Hyperborean, a counterspell ready at the back of his mind but takes no further action. "I would be carefull with that one, even restrained those of that blood have ways of calling upon their art."