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Reign of Fear: A NeoGAF DnD 5e Play by Post Campaign

((Song:
All right, let's do it then

Ludwig will spend the bulk of the trip talking about free market values to whoever seems to listen. Also...))

As the part prepares to leave Bellows, Ludwig makes a spectacle of gathering everyone around the wagon. "Now that we're about to depart into the wilderness again, I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAAAAAAKE!!"

Ludwig excitedly nodges the wagon in it's sides, causes a fold-out wooden board to release on each side. "They make for great cover! It'll make ranged combat and support much easier, for sure! They won't stand up to direct swings for serious melee threats, but as general cover? A great improvement from the status quo!"
 
<Got around to reading Song of Fire's post. It's always fun to RP going shopping.>

The moment Ludwig reveals his new addition to fortify the wagon, Fhiess claps his hands together, "Oh! This gives me an idea! If I had the right materials, I could paint the wooden boards to something that confuses enemies.. that gives me another idea."

He casts silent image in front, creating.. a fence with gaps. He explains "Whenever I cast a spell like this, it'll be harder for them to see us because they'll be farther away but we can see through more easily, and the illusion is false so we can easily shoot through it."

Fhiess doesn't know if this will actually work.
 

Mike M

Nick N
((A picket fence would make you lightly obscured. It'd impose disadvantage on perception if there's no way around it, but not attacks.))
 

Mike M

Nick N
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The next morning finds the Endowed bright and early.

The kitchen of the inn either an out of the previous night’s meal or have decided to splurge a bit, as the outlay for breakfast that morning consists of a large pot brimmed with steaming scrambled eggs, platters heaped with sausage, bacon, and ham, and loaves of fresh-baked bread. The meat isn’t the finest quality that’s ever been had, and the loaves are perhaps a bit smaller than they usually are according to the subvocalized grumbling of the regulars, but overall it is a warm and filling meal.

Outside, Barrow has gotten an early start on the morning, checking and double checking the harnessing of the horses to the wagon as Peasebossom buzzes around his head, peppering him with questions.

“What’s that?”

“That be the tug buckle.”

“What’s that?”

“It be called a bearing strap.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh for--that be the bleeding horse you nattering gadfly!”

Peaseblossom darts away in a flurry of giggles, leaving a trail of glowing motes in her wake as Barrow waves his arms after her and yells in inchoate annoyance and irritation.

Ambassador Avrice makes an appearance not long after. He’s no longer dressed in his layered silk robes as he was at his last meeting with Thosar, but while his traveling clothes are more practical, they are no less ostentatious. It looks as though the leather he’s wearing comes from a variety of different animals with, cashmere lining, tawny fur trim, and scaled-skin accents. ((Insight DC 20:
His clothing is made from the hide of a chimera, which is entirely unheard of
))

“Master Thosar!” he hails the elven scholar. “I am glad to see that you are true to your word, this is a fine company of travelers indeed. And a J’raffa!” A flicker of some emotion registers on his face before the smiling mask of diplomacy reasserts itself. “I had no idea there were any about in Aglea! It gives me such pleasure that such a noble being from my homeland would be accompanying us on our journey. Truly, our meeting was the designs of some greater power.”

On the road, Avrice proves to be quite the renaissance man, proving to have a knowledge of subjects that seems as deep as they are broad. He fills the day with amicable chit chat, identifying plants and animals that they pass and describing the Baglahmian equivalents that fill the same ecological niche across the Sea of Passage. He is a smiling, calm presence that always seems to have a clever remark or witty retort on hand.

Thosar asks him about the secretive Hegemony of the Dragon, and Avrice seems more than happy to talk about it, speaking at length about all manner of things. Gradually, Thosar becomes aware that despite the volume of words coming from the ambassador’s lips, he’s revealing very little. With a fencer’s grace, he subtly deflects questions and redirects the flow of conversation back upon itself so that he becomes the one asking questions and listening to the responses of the ones who originally asked. Barrow in particular seems to be susceptible to Avrice’s charming flattery, and Thosar identifies a pattern of the cagey dragonborn evading questions by asking Barrow of some tangentially related topic and listening with rapt attention as the oblivious dwarf rattles on about it.

By the end of the day, all that Thosar has been able to establish is that the Hegemony of the Dragon is a thing that exists in Baglahm and is populated largely by dragonborn, all of which was already known.


As the day draws to a close, Barrow steers the wagon off the road toward an isolated copse of trees. The trees conceal not only the party from the view of anyone traveling along the road, but also the malefic energy coursing across the sky from the origin point of the black tower. Here, the darkening sky looks as it did before all this madness set in.

Despite his relative extravagance that might speak of a life of pampered luxury, the ambassador strikes his own tent with practiced efficiency. As the day winds down, Galen instructs Sagishi in the finer points in the use of the longbow, going over the differences between it and the shortbows that the kitsune is more accustomed to. Keranos excuses himself from the others, wandering alone into the field to shout challenges to the cloudless sky that his usurper and mortal enemy cease toying with him and show himself so that they might determine once and for all who truly has dominion over the storms.

He receives no reply.

As night falls, the sky comes alive with falling stars. Avrice in particular seems to delight in this, and tells everyone that in his tongue such an event is called the Tears of Bahamut, and it signifies great fortune in an endeavor, though almost as an afterthought he adds the caveat that it happens at the expense of misfortune to another.

He seems confident that all present are firmly in the first category.
((Perception DC 25:
The lights in the sky all originate at a star, which is gone after the shooting star burns itself out. It looks like the stars are literally falling out of the sky.
))


Barrow looks sheepish the following morning, apologizing profusely to Avrice as the party breaks camp. The haversack of replenishing food apparently does not take into account the presence of traveling companions into account, and has produced no more food than usual. Avrice expresses a small measure of surprise that he be expected to have thought any differently, and assures Barrow that he has enough provisions of his own to make the trip and many others to spare. As though to assuage Barrow’s feelings, he produces a hunk of dried meat from a sack and proceeds to chew it heartily between his needle-sharp teeth.

Peaseblossom is less accommodating in this oversight, alternating between clutching her stomach and throwing her arm across her forehead in melodramatic swooning as she goes on about how she hasn’t had anything to eat in a million million million years. Barrow is less than swayed by her antics, waving a thick finger in her face and insisting that she lived on her own in the woods her entire life and that he can’t be expected to see after any freeloaders who invite themselves along without bothering to ask first. Did Old King Hector expect the stone giants to feed him when he snuck into their kingdom under the mountain? No, he bloody didn’t. She can bloody well find her own damned food.

((Perception DC 10:
As Barrow steers the wagon and eats his breakfast, he tries to split the difference between eating and concealing the fact that his apple has been cut clean down the middle. Peaseblossom has stopped her starving act.
))

#

Thosar reengages Avrice and attempts to wrest more information from the ambassador, asking pointed and specific questions and managing to keep the distractions and tangents to a minimum. Avrice still manages to avoid painting a complete picture, but between what he says and what Ludwig can confirm, Thosar is able to get a basic idea of the Hegemony:

The Hegemony is the dominant national entity in Baglahm; indeed, though the political borders might take only an unexpectedly small percentage of the continental’s habitable land, there are no real opposing forces, so they are almost a de facto empire.

The Hegemony is also a henotheocracy; Dragonborn overwhelmingly follow the Path of Bahamut, though they recognize the existence of other gods and goddesses. The seat of power of the Path and the Hegemony are intertwined, which allows them to project power everywhere there are dragonborn, all the while insisting that they are a small nation that seeks only peaceful interactions and mutual prosperity with others.

Then there is the almost literal bombshell: The Hegemony holds the secret to making gunpowder in mass quantities.


As the wagon starts to make its way into the foothills at the base of the Forgerun mountains--the road itself seems an impossibly level grade carved into stone and bedrock--the settlements of hill dwarves and halflings become apparent. The climate takes a notable turn as well, as the chill coolness of spring gives way to the biting cold of perpetual snow and ice. Fortunately the clothing purchased in Bellows is more than adequate to ward against it, and Barrow makes oblique comments about how it won’t be a problem in Hammerfall, as apparently he considers the place warmed by the fires of hell.

They stop for the evening at a smattering of settlements on the outskirts of the final push to Hammerfall, too small to have a proper name, but large enough that they have a modest inn that can put them up for the night, Ludwig excluded. Not wishing to offend the strange-looking warrior from a distant land, they offer him the use of their barn. It smells of livestock, but it’s insulated with earth and straw, so it’s dry and warm.

The meal for the night is a mushroom stew with root vegetables and a thick consistency, served alongside dense, flat biscuits. The staff almost instinctively defer to Barrow, a fact that he notices and uses as an opportunity to preen, presenting himself as the leader of a great and mighty band of heroes. Once again, he invokes the prospect of possessing the power of Old King Hector, prompting an inquiry from Peaseblossom.

“Who’s Old King Hector?”

Barrow is reduced to an apoplectic sputtering as his mind reels, trying to come to grips that someone would somehow not know who Old King Hector is. Eventually he regains control of himself, pulls out his pipe, and stuffs it with tobacco with a sense of purpose. As he lights it up, he puffs on it contemplatively and begins speaking, his voice soft and somehow devoid of his usual verbal tics and courseness.

Long, long ago, before there was any Kingdom of Telmur, before the Hauntaurs, before there was even such a thing as Forgerun, Old King Hector had no higher station than any other of his people. There were no mountain dwarves back then, and without the need to distinguish themselves from their mountain kin, hill dwarves were just “dwarves.”

The hills of those days veritably swarmed with giants. Creatures dumb as rocks, but what need had they for smarts when their brawn sufficed? A single giant could fell a dozen dwarves in a single blow, destroy an entire village just by stumbling blindly about. Oh, the giants hated the dwarves. They envied their craftsmanship, their ability to coax food to grow from the very soil itself. They’d roam the hills for the express purpose of seeking out dwarves so that they might smash their accomplishments into rubble and bring them down to the level of the giants themselves. This was the smelter in which dwarves were forged; a hearty people, a strong people, but a wary people.

Hector was stout as a log, hard as a rock, strong as an auroch, and clever as a fox. He saw the problem of the hill giants and set about finding a means to put an end to it. He knew that deep in the mountains was a different kind of giant, stone giants who carved great caverns and tunnels through the very bones of the earth. Giants who respected art and craftsmanship and harbored no love for their dullard kin who roamed the lands beneath the sky. Indeed, they believed the world beneath the sky to be the land of dreams, and those who inhabited it to be figments of the imagination of slumbering giants greater than even themselves.

And so Hector searched the mountains for the secret doors that led to the stone giants’ tunnels. It was a task that would take any one man two lifetimes to accomplish, but remember that Hector was very clever. He struck his camp outside of a cave one night, poured two flagons of ale, and began to sing a rousing song. Soon, a Bat came out of the cave to see what the commotion was about. “Come, my friend!” invited Hector. “I have more than I could ever hope to eat and drink by myself! Feast with me!”

And so the Bat and Hector ate of Hector’s bread and drank of his ale. Hector returned a second night with a decanter of fine wine and a wedge of good cheese, and again invited the Bat to join him. He returned the third night, this time with a flask of strong spirits and a hank of good roast, and again played host to the Bat.

“My friend,” said the Bat as the sun began to rise after the third night, “you have been most generous. If there is any way I might repay you, you need only ask.”

“All I would ask in return is your knowledge of the caves and secret places of the mountains,” replied Hector. And so the Bat shared with Hector, and Hector learned of all the caves and secret places of the mountains.

Now Hector knew all of the secret doors of the stone giants. He packed himself food and drink and journeyed to the nearest of the doors at the bottom of a distant cave, but try as he might, he could not open it, for it was a door made for giants and not for dwarves. As he sat and contemplated the problem, the Bear that made his home in the cave returned from his time abroad.

“Hello, little one,” said the Bear. “How considerate of you to deliver yourself to me so that I may eat you.”

But Hector was not afraid. “I was told that the bear who made its home here was one of fearsome strength,” he said. “I don’t think I could be satisfied to be served up as a meal to one that was not so powerful as this one I have heard of.”

Seeking to prove his might, the Bear lifted a great rock above his head. “Now you can see that I am the bear of which you have heard.”

Hector shrugged his shoulders. “I see that you are as powerful as any bear I have ever met. I could not stand to be eaten by any that were short of strength that was truly extraordinary.”

The Bear lifted an even greater rock above his head. “Now you can see that I have strength to spare, well beyond normal bears.”

Hector rubbed his chin and appraised the Bear’s performance. “I can see that you are indeed powerful, but I will only consent to be eaten by the strongest bear of all.”

So goaded, the Bear lifted a massive boulder above its head, and his knees began to buckle. “Help me, little one!” he called. “For this weight is too much!”

“I could only help if I were as strong as you, oh mighty Bear,” said Hector.

“So granted,” the Bear said, and allowed his mighty power to fall upon Hector. Hector helped the Bear heave the boulder to one side. In the Bear’s gratitude, he foreswore his desire to eat Hector and helped the dwarf open the great door to the realm of the stone giants. The path open, Hector descended into the heart of the mountain to seek their occupants. He found the great graven hall of their king, but also found it to be heavily guarded and impenetrable. Again, he sat and considered the problem.

Soon a small Mouse came upon the sitting dwarf. “Hello my friend, what is it that troubles you so?” asked the Mouse.

“I have need to call upon the King of the stone giants, but I cannot present myself at the door,” said Hector. “Friend Mouse, could you teach me the ways of scurrying about undetected?”

“For a copper coin, I could teach you the art of moving silently,” said the Mouse.

“I have copper, but I would need more than that, Friend Mouse,” said Hector.

“For a silver coin, I could teach you the art of remaining unseen,” said the Mouse.

“I have silver, but I would require still more,” said Hector.

“For a gold coin, I could teach you the art of slipping through cracks unhindered,” said the Mouse.

“That would be enough,” said Hector. So he paid the Mouse a copper coin, a silver coin, and a gold coin, and the Mouse taught him all he knew of scurrying. He used his newfound abilities to remain as stealthy as a mouse and slink past the guards into the Hall of the King.

The first night, he presented himself in the chamber of the king’s adviser and professed to be a dream. The adviser knew it to be true, for Hector was a dwarf of the surface world, and all stone giants knew the denizens of the surface world to be but dreams. Hector asked that the advisor ask the king to send his armies against the hill giants so that they troubled the dwarves no more, but the Adviser refused. “What concern is it of mine what fate befalls but phantoms of the mind?” he asked. “Go away, and leave me be.”

The second night, Hector presented himself to the king himself and made his case directly to the ruler of the great stone giants. The king was amused by this dream. “Seeing that you are a dream, I swear upon my sword that next I slumber, I shall summon all my dreaming soldiers to march against the giants that trouble your land of dreams,” he said. Hector was gracious for the sake of appearances, but knew the king’s offer to be useless, so he resolved to try again.

The third night, Hector presented himself to the king’s daughter and implored upon her to advocate to her father on his behalf. The princess was wiser than her father or his advisor, and knew Hector to be no dream. Together, they conspired how she might best convince her father to march to the surface world to do battle against the hill giants and drive them from the land. The following morning, Hector hid beneath her bed while she sought an audience with her father.

“My daughter, what is it that troubles you this day?” asked the king.

“I suffer only from a lack of rest, father,” said the princess, yawning heavily and rubbing her eyes. “I had the most bothersome dreams last night that kept me from sleep. Surely tomorrow I will fare better.”

The next day, Hector hid beneath the covers of the princess's bed while she again sought her father.

“My dreams are most frightful, father,” she said. “But I am certain that they will relent tonight and allow me to rest.”

On the third day, Hector hid beneath her skirts as she approached the king once more.

“I am so tormented!” she wept. “I fear I will never know rest again until these nightmarish creatures are banished!”

And so the king rose from his throne and summoned his advisors so that they might make war upon the hill giants he believed to be preying on his daughter’s mind in the land of dreams. The king’s great army of stone throwers set out on their campaign for three days. Upon the king’s return on the third day, Hector revealed himself and asked for the princess’s hand in marriage.

The stone king was aghast at the proposal, and steadfastly refused. But the pleading of his daughter warmed his heart enough that he agreed to allow Hector to marry her if he could accomplish three tasks set forth by the king, to which Hector agreed.

His first task was to locate three tokens of the princess's affection that the king’s men had spirited away to parts unknown of the great caverns of the stone giant kingdom. But Hector had the knowledge of the Bat and knew of all the secret places of the mountains and was able to retrieve them and present them before the king.

The king grew wrathful at Hector’s success, and next charged him with hewing blocks of stone from the three tallest mountains in the world. Hector traveled far and wide, and used the strength of the Bear to carve out great slabs of stone from the three tallest mountains and present them before the king.

Once again, the king grew wrathful at Hector’s success. He sealed the princess in a metal box that had neither entrance nor exit, set one hundred of his best men on guard, and declared that he would bless their marriage should Hector ever be able to reach her. But Hector had the skill of the Mouse, and slipped past the guards and into the box, where the sound of their rejoicing at their reunion gave the king cause to open the prison to discover what was amiss.

So defeated, the king gave his blessing and Hector and the princess were married. For a dowry, the king granted Hector a mountain kingdom of his own, and from the slabs of stone hewn from mountains he laid the foundation for the great city of Hammerfall. The secret doors to the mountain were flung open, and the dwarves were free to live under the mountain and Hector’s wise rule, or among the hills that had been vanquished of giants. And so the strength of giants flowed through Hector’s line to his children, his children’s children, and beyond in a long series of wise and just rulers.

“Wow,” Peaseblossom sighs after his story is done, her chin resting in her palm as she sits with her legs crossed on the table. “I thought Old King Hector was a dwarf like you, not a batmousebear.”

Without another word, Barrow stomps off up the stairs to his room, wedges a chair up against the knob, and crams a blanket beneath the bottom of the door. Peaseblossom doesn’t seem to mind being shut out from his room and goes to spend the night with the horses.
 

Mike M

Nick N

The sun is blinding on the flurries of snow that whip about on the final climb toward the gates of Hammerfall and Forgerun beyond. The horses continue their unflagging pace, unaffected by either the cold or the thin crust of snow that covers the road. The gates come into view, looming large in the distance. It becomes self-evident that the distance is still further than expected, as the perception plays tricks on the eyes and deceives the viewer on just how positively massive they are. Whether or not Barrow’s story of Old King Hector is true or not, it’s easy to see why one might attribute the construction to the efforts of stone giants; no dwarf or other similarly-sized humanoid could ever have need of such a huge aperture. Even the largest of siege engines could stacked three tall and pass through without touching the edges.

Barrow pulls the wagon up alongside a seemingly seamless portion of the metal and stonework, only for a hidden gateway to swing inward and disgorge a half-dozen dwarves in plate armor and halberds emerge. Their faces are hidden by their helmets, but their body language speaks of wariness and caution at the sight of the wagon and it’s tall, long-necked escort.

Avrice--draped in layered cloaks of magnificent fur--approaches, handing them a scroll of paperwork and gesturing toward the wagon. The cold wind swallows their words, but the dwarves visibly relax and there is many nodding of heads. After perhaps five minutes of verification and confirmation, the dwarves stand aside and wave the wagon through.

The gate leads to a tunnel with a low ceiling, forcing Ludwig to hold his neck at a nearly horizontal angle to fit. One wall of the tunnel is lit by alchemical lamps that burn a ruddy orange as opposed to the more conventional green, while the other is made up of the titanic machining that is the gate’s opening mechanism, with ladders placed at regular intervals leading up through the ceiling. It would seem that these tunnels serve double duty as maintenance access as well as postern gates.

Just when Ludwig’s neck might give out from fatigue at being held for such a prolonged period at an awkward angle, the tunnel disgorges the Endowed into Hammerfall.


The first impression Hammerfall gives those that are strangers to the place is that of a gigantic colony of ants. The cavern is so vast that the top and bottom are lost in darkness, giving the impression that the entire mountain is completely hollowed out, though that would be an impossible feat of engineering.

The buildings themselves look to have been carved from the walls on either side of a great crevasse, the expanse between webbed with stone highways going across, down, above, or ending in the middle of the space at some great tower that may or may not be carved from a stalactite of unimaginable size, all of it teeming with pedestrian traffic. It seems as though the Endowed have arrived during the period of some festival or something, as there are swaths of gaily colored bunting emblazoned with Dwarven script, banners featuring the profiles of people, their features rendered in predominantly straight lines, all of them looking by turns stern and hopeful. Criers stand on podiums carved from the very stone itself, ringing bells and reciting from sheets of parchment in their hands to small, rapt audiences that periodically erupt into applause.

Barrow unleashes perhaps the most despondent sigh yet. “Welcome t’Hammerfall,” he says. “We’ve the great misfortune of coming here during election season.

“By which I mean t’say, we’ve the great misfortune of coming here at all, since it’s always election season in this miserable city…”

Codex updates:
 
Code:
[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=158271]Insight: 1D20 + 3 = [12]+3 = 15
[/url]
Ludwig puts on a fake smile as the ambassador strolls up and greets the party. "To my knowledge, I'm the only one here! I have some business that brought me to this continent here. It's different from Baglahm, but I can't say it's too bad. I do wish that properly sized amenities weren't so hard to come by, though."

Code:
[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=158272]Perception: 1D20 + 3 = [10]+3 = 13
[/url]
With camp set for the first night, Ludwig looks to the skies as Avrice talks about the Tears of Bahamut, not seeing anything beyond what the dragonborn points out. He heads off to sleep once the event is concluded.

Code:
[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=158273]Perception: 1D20 + 3 = [5]+3 = 8
[/url]

Occasionally, Ludwig is asked about Baglahm and the Hegemony. The J'raffa has much to say about these topics. He goes on about the savannah he grew up in and the denizens of inner Baglahm. He talks about how the Hegemony are a bunch of ruthless theocrats that rule the land with an iron fist. Sure, they seem peaceful, but refuse to pay any taxes and see how long that peacefulness lasts. He speaks of all kinds of evils he's heard of the Hegemony partaking in. The capacity to create gunpowder in mass amounts would sound horrifying if Ludwig hadn't prefaced it with an elaborate scheme to make everyone take immunity-boosting medicine that actually makes its victims stupid, mass scrying initiatives that let the state know what anyone is doing at any given time, and a child sex trade ring connected to high level government officials that is run out of the back of a small bakery in a coastal town. Ultimately, Ludwig's words are not of much use without additional sources for verification.

Eventually, the party arrives in Hammerfall, saving Ludwig from permanent neck cramps. "Lovely, a city that's constantly in election mode. A constant land of people choosing which tyrant will lord over them as if both sides aren't completely rotten. Unless there's a candidate running on shriveling up the government. Sometimes they actually take things in the right direction. You know what? I should look into that."

Ludwig will stay with the party as is necessary, but should any free time come up, he's going to look into who is running for what, and see if there's a pro-freedom candidate he can offer campaign assistance to.
 
Insight: 1D20+3+2 => (18 + 3 + 2) = 23

Fhiess raises an eyebrow of great curiosity witnessing the hide the Ambassador adorns proudly. Fhiess soon realizes that the man is not shy of making a trophy out of fantastic beasts, though it still leaves a question where to find them. Verily a chimera is a creature of great renown but he never would have thought it would be suited for protective layering.

DC 25 Perception: 1D20+3+2 => (13 + 3 + 2) = 18

"Ah, Peaselblossom," Fhiess begins, "I'm such a light eater, and the thrill of the city's food has left me without as much of an appetite for our basic supply. You may have some of my share if you'd like."

DC 10 Perception: 1D20+3+2 => (16 + 3 + 2) = 21

Once Fhiess notices Barrow's own good will, it is too late. He lets out a chuckle, "Well, if you're still hungry that is."

--

After the group passes the Hedgemony and enters the dark depths of Hammerfall, Fhiess gazes in awe at how massive the city seems when it is enclosed within the earth like this. It is like architecture meets sculpture, while retaining much of the natural beauty of the caverns.

He blinks when Barrow mentions it always being election season, "Why so? It seems odd that people do not stay in rulership for long if elections happen so frequently."

When Ludwig decides to intervene, Fhiess almost reaches out, "Ah, wait! I doubt the city would just let any passing warrior decide who to elect.. would they?"
 
Ludwig laughs in response to Fheiss's exclamation. "Of course not! But said warrior being a campaign advisor for a candidate? Nothing wrong with that. That's just being one of many workers in the election, totally different from some kind of royal decree on who to vote for."
 
((Rolls are 13, 13, and 7. +5 to all, so Galen only passes- I should actually look at what that Barrow and Peaseblossom roll was for. He only passes that one.

Which I was certain he would have a 1 on...))


"Actually," Galen interjects, holding back a small bout of laughter at the J'raffa's eagerness to enter this world of political strife, "while the thought may be good, I would think your chosen candidate may be better served by not accepting your offer. Any political rivals may decry the aid of an outsider." Galen shrugs to indicate that this is only a possibility.


((It has no real bearing on anything, but Galen has likely been speaking with Peaseblossom primarily in Sylvan, except when others are part of any such conversations.

Also, does Ambassador Avrice indicate any particular actions or direction to take?))
 
Keranos spends the first few hours of the journey toward Hammerfell by trying to get a word in edgewise.

After that, he gives up.

The dragonborn diplomat's gift for gab is nigh impenetrable, and it quickly becomes apparent to Keranos that he is rather overmatched.

The worst part of it was that he didn't even really seem to be trying.

In the face of this implacable menace, suddenly Keranos's feud with Talos seems distant and unimportant. On the first night, he remembers to step away and attempt to provoke a confrontation with the Usurper, however half-hearted the attempt.

For the rest of the trip, Talos is the furthest thing from his mind.

He spends their time on the road in the background, silently seething. Occasionally, he will attempt to drown out the sound of Avrice's voice with a well-placed crack of thunder; the results are hit and miss.

Occasionally in the evening, he will use his invisible familiar to spy on the Ambassador when he believes himself to be alone.

Perception: [11] + 4 = 15
Insight: [13] + 4 = 17

Somehow, Keranos makes it through the journey without flying off the handle or causing a scene. When the gate to Hammerfell comes into view, though, a sinking realization befalls the boy-god.

"Oh no..." he mutters to himself.

As the rest of the Endowed filter one by one into the passage, Keranos falters. He sighs heavily and looks up at the open sky. Closing his eyes, he takes in one more wistful, deep breath, and then finally follows behind, just before the gatekeeper would have started to question his intentions.

Keranos's stress levels rise off the charts as they wade deeper and deeper into the earth. He can barely stretch his arms out (or at least that's what it feels like); he has no idea how Ludwig is managing.

The passageway eventually widens into a cavern of sorts, but the size of the city does nothing to mask just how truly enclosed it is.

"I... ah..." he stammers. A bead of nervous sweat trickles down his temple. His palms are sweaty, his knees weak, and his arms heavy. "I think I need to go ly dow have a rest. Where is the nearest lodge...?"
 

Mike M

Nick N
((Keranos's clandestine eavesdropping on Avrice on the way up didn't reveal anything of note. The only time he was ever truly alone was after chatting up the party around the fire, he retired to his tent and reviewed some documents before going to sleep. ))
 

Nezumi

Member
((Failed all the checks except the Peaseblossom one.))

Despite the temperatures falling steadily, Sagishi has mostly enjoyed their trip to Hammerfall. Especially the fact that Peaseblossom has joined them again brought great joy to the kitsune and he does his best to support the fairy in her endeavors of annoying Barrow, equipping her with make up and little firecrackers so she can effiencently prank the dwarf.

Opposed to some others in their party he shows little interest in Avrice. The overly diplomatic chitchat of the dragonborn does little to impress him and the pompous mannerisms just don't sit well with him.

Good thing, that he is too distracted by his longbow training anyway, which sadly doesn't go at all as Sagishi had hoped. He had imagined that it would be a simple matter, after all it was just a slightly bigger bow, but a big black bruise on his upper arm, where the string had painfully smacked against his flesh when he had miscalculated the force of the weapon, was clear evidence that matters weren't quite as simple as he had hoped. Having a good eye and quick fingers apparently wasn't enough to become good with a longbow and at Galen's suggestion he started doing nightly push-ups to increase the strength in his arms.

When they finally reached the massive gates of Hammerfall, Sagishi had stared with open mouthed awe at the gigantic construction unable to believe that dwarfs should have been able to construct something like that, though Barrow's story, which Sagishi had listened to with the glee and excitement of a little child, would indicate that this indeed wasn't the case.

Now that they stood in Hammerfall proper, Sagishi is still fairly impressed by the sight, though the narrow tunnel that had let them there had first put a little damper on his excitement. When Barrow mentioned the elections, the kitsune shakes his head and sighed with distaste. "Politics...blargh. Why do people willfully engage in such a dry circus. All they do ia make matters complicated and make your woman miserable." He is surprised when Ludwig immediately seems eager to get involved. "I'm not sure if we have time for that. We have a quest to fulfill you know. I say we find out how we get through the mountains and then be on our way." He glances at Keranos who is showing signs of clear distress. "Don't you agree?" he addressed the young man while putting a comforting arm around his shoulders.
 
((Thosar only noticed Barrow's generosity.))
Engaged as he is during the trip conversing with Avrice, Thosar largely ignores the scenery until the group gets to the colder, windier passes. Gleaning what he can from the ambassador proves a limited venture, learning not much more than what Ludwig already knows.

At the final ascent, the view of the great Gate turns him silent, a look of wonder on his face for seeing one of the great works in the world. He is eyes remain fixed on it until they pass through the smaller passage and into Forgerun proper.
 

Mike M

Nick N
((A note on the perception checks, don't bother rolling if your passive already meets or beat it.))

"Both sides!" Barrow guffaws at Ludwig's comment. "What do ye think Forgerun is, a system of government that utilizes first-past-th'-post voting and inevitably produces only two parties? Lad, there be more sides in this blighted country than there be on--on some sort of polyhedral... thing that's a polyhedron...

"Damn it all, I thought I had a metaphor there..."

Avrice laughs gently at Barrow's outburst. "Master Barrow has the right of it, Master Ludwig," he says. "I think you might be surprised at the... variety of opinions, shall we say--that Hammerfall is host to. Ah, speaking of which, here comes some of it now."

Approaching the party is a dwarf that exudes wealth or nobility, possibly both. His clothing is understated, but still of obvious quality and tailored to flatter his muscular form. He is probably younger than Barrow, with gray only setting in on his temples. A platinum circlet on his head keeps his red hair out of his face, and every finger is adorned with with a ring.

Barrow makes himself busy at the back of the wagon.

((Perception DC 20:
One of the rings appears to be made of the same red metal as the rings Sagishi observed in Bellows, though it's a more elaborate working and set with a black gemstone.
))

"Ambassador Avrice," the dwarf booms, extending his hand toward the dragonborn in greeting. "How pleased I was to receive word that you would be joining us after all."

"And I as well, Minister Marthor," Avrice responds, seizing Marthor's meaty palm in his scaled hand and shaking vigorously. "Though obviously our talks will be of different matters than we had originally anticipated.:

"Let us retire to a more private setting," Marthor says, standing aside for Avrice to pass. "We've much to discuss before the next session."

With a polite farewell, Avrice departs in the company of Minister Marthor and are soon lost in the crowds.

Barrow conveniently finishes up whatever it was that he was doing behind the wagon, apparently doing such a good job of things that one would be unable to tell that anything had changed at all. "Come on, then," he says, coming forward to take the horses by the reins. "I know a place we can stay."

What passes for streets in Hammerfall are wide at this level, apparently built with the foresight that visitors to the city would likely arrive by horse or wagon. Dwarves are the predominant variety of humanoids present, though there are not insignificant numbers of halflings, rock gnomes, and a handful of svirfneblin. Here and there are tall, cloaked figures that are practically impossible to miss as they tower over everyone else with a more gracile build.

Everyone--everyone--stops what they're doing as the Endowed past, gaping at Ludwig with slack-jawed amazement. As these mysterious tall figures raise their heads, they reveal the features hidden beneath their hoods.

These are drow, though no one seems alarmed by their presence.

((Perception DC 15:
A sizable portion of them wear some form of jewelry with the image of a maiden with a sword standing before a moon.
))

((Subsequent Religion DC 30 check if you make the Perception check:
This is the icon of Eilistraee, the misbegotten daughter of the spider-goddess Lolth, and the only deity in the drow pantheon that is, you know... not evil.
))

Barrow stops before an inn whose facade is carved from the stone of the mountain itself, and looks to extend to some depth from the entrance. Passing the reins to a young halfling stableboy, he wheels on the rest of the party with a stern look on his face. "Now look here," he says with grave seriousness, "as long as we be in this hell hole, ye don't never heard of any man by th'name of Barrow Stonecipher. Any questions?"

Peaseblossom darts into the air in front of Barrow's face, waving her hand high in the air. "Ooh! Ooh! Me! I have a question!"

Barrow sighs as his eyes threaten to roll right out of their sockets. "What be yer question, ye wee imp?"

"Why is the alphabet in the order it is? Is it because of the song?"

Barrow clutches his face with his hands and mutters darkly for a moment before sliding them up and across his bald scalp.

"Any other questions? Relevant questions?"
 
<Managed to roll the same on both perception checks, a 21, and failed the religion check>

Fhiess considers, "Ah, many parties competing for power with their own ideas and origins." Rubbing his jaw, he says, "Such a far cry from the lineage of kings we are used to."

When the Minister arrives, Fhiess takes notice of a fine crafted piece of jewelry on his finger. He steps over next to Sagishi and nudges him with an elbow. He whispers as quietly as he can so that only Sagishi and Keranos can hear,
"That ring.. it is like the metal you described."

---

Later as Fhiess gazes around the tall buildings in the underground, failing to watch his step in such a massive hollow, he almost doesn't notice the Drow elves nearby until he nearly bumps into one. "Oh, pardon me," he says with apology, looking to the person in of them and noticing the jewelry they wear just as he noticed the Minister's. This time the jewelry seems to depict an icon of sorts, but he isn't sure who of.

Once they arrive at the inn, he chuckles at Peaselblossom's question, "It's certainly how most of us learn common as children, I take it you heard the song before learning common, Peaseblossom?" He turns to Keranos after this, and asks, "Do you know anything about a maiden with a sword in front of a moon?"
 

Nezumi

Member
((OK, I'm pretty sure that I still had my point of inspiration from waaaay from the beginning of the game, so I'll be burning this on the first perception check.))

Perception DC20: 1D20+2 = [6]+2 = 8

Inspiration Reroll: 1D20+2 = [18]+2 = 20 ((Yes!)

When Barrow explains some of the more finer points of Forgerun's politics Sagishis's grimaces only more. He could all too&#8203; well remember what the years where all the scheming and plotting that came with political motivations had taken over in Nodoff. When suddenly unwritten laws that had lasted for decades, had no meaning anymore, because somewhere in some backroom some few people had made decisions that fucked over all the other's just because they were power hungry...

True, that fact that in Nodoff those particular individuals had been mostly thieves, pimps and murderers had probably played a role in why things had gone as bad as things had gotten but still...Sagishi eyes the dwarf that has approached and is shaking hands with the ambassador. Just because those people here are apparently of high enough standing that even foreign ambassadors wanted to talk to them, didn't mean that their scheming and plotting wouldn't fuck some people over. Just because they weren't criminals in the... he stops in his thoughts as his eyes catch the dwarfs hands.

Years of picking pockets had trained his gaze to be quickly drawn to everything shiny, as it could mean potential spoils, so after the platinum circlet (which, even though quite valuable would be to hard to steal anyway) his eyes immediately wander to the assortment of rings, adorning the politician's fingers. Despite the fact that it would be easy to snatch one, the thing that drew the kitsune's attention is one ring in particular. Even though this one is worked in a more elaborate style and has an addition of a stone, Sagishi at once recognizes the strange red metal. Well, look at that, apparently politics in Hammerfall aren't quite as by the law as they first had me believe. Of course this might be all just an coincidence, but he decides that he still decides to tell the others about this. They would want to know that the guy that they were escorting is apparently meeting with what Sagishi assumes to be if not the head at least someone very high up in a criminal organization.

Apparently he isn't the only one to have spotted the ring. When Fhiess adresses him he just nods. "Yeah. I saw that too... I think we should talk about this with the rest later."

He follows Barrow the others along the streets to the inn. When they arrive and Barrow makes his little declaration Sagishi forgets about his earlier discovery for a moment and his smile returns.

"Well, I have an obvious question. What ARE we to call you then? We have to have some name for you. We can't just call you... I don't know. Doc, or something. I mean, What's up Doc? that's just sound stupid. No... I think some nickname would be good. Like... Grumpy? He don't look at me like that, you certainly aren't a Happy. I guess it would be easier if you had something really obvious that we could use as a nickname. Like if you were allergic. We could call you Sneezy or maybe when you were really tired all the time, we could go for Sleepy. Or if you were plain stupid, then I'd suggest Dopey." He stops for a moment, tapping his chin in mock thought. "I feel like I'm forgetting something. Like, you know, when your mother lets you recite all the 15 provinces of Nihaan and there is this one that you always forget..." His eyes suddenly brighten up and he exclaims. "I got it! Baldy! We'll call you Baldy! Everyone in favor?" He raises his arm and looks around at the rest of the group in anticipation.

Regardless of the outcome of this particular election. He will add in a more serious tone. "There are some real questions I would like to ask, but I say we wait for that until we are inside and in private." Once they are inside he will tell everyone about the ring and what he thinks that discovery might imply and he will press Barrow Baldy for more information on that Marthor guy.

((Well, saw your post only after I had written mine. I changed it up a bit. Oh yeah and I failed the second perception check.))
 
Sagishi's arm, meant to provide comfort, only contributes to Keranos's sensation that the walls are closing in. He reflexively jerks away. "Er... Yes, of course. The sooner we leave this place, the better."

He scarcely notices the Minister, and is oblivious to the fact that Avrice has gone his own separate way. When they are inside the inn, he relaxes somewhat, but only somewhat.

It is no surprise to him that a politician might be involved in some shady business or other. He is still not in a mood to talk; in fact, any who care to pay attention might notice that Keranos's mannerisms have changed drastically from the norm. He is quiet and reserved; his body language betrays a self consciousness that is wholly unlike him.

Still, this seems like it could be an important conversation, and so he sticks around until it's completed.
 
((Perceive wat? Not like anyone could make that religion check at this level anyway.))
perception: 1D20+4 = [9]+4 = 13
1D20+4 = [4]+4 = 8


Thosar is far too enraptured by the miracle of an underground cavern city to notice much of anything else. The mix of natural formation and crafted stone is an art of practicality and beauty in the scholar's eyes. He hardly even registers parting with Avrice, giving little more than a short farewell.

During the discussion about more serious matters like Barrow's new pseudonym and the appearance of another red band member, Thosar takes a liking to Sagishi's recommendation. "Indeed, but we should add a surname for extra cover. Baldy Nolocks, perhaps?"

When discussions turn more serious, he gets more to the point. "Somehow, we have to get to the caverns. Are there maps or locals who know the way there?
 
Galen, ever the professional mercenary provider of security, stands dutifully by the wagon as his employer converses with the minister. He even hardly moves to watch as their cart driver busies himself with whatever odds and ends it is that mercenary cart drivers hide their faces in. It is an interesting time for such work, however, and Galen finds himself more interested in that than in whatever pleasantries are being traded back and forth by the diplomats before them.

Once business is concluded and their employer has parted ways with them, Galen joins the rest of his band in journeying through the vast underground city, taking interest in all the goings on about them, as well as in those banners hung up declaring candidates. Did that poster depict a frog? In any case, Galen spots the emblem born by the tall, cloaked drow, and he makes a note to ask Thosar if he, being a learned man, knows anything about it.

But first, their cart driver has an announcement, and Galen puts on a confused look as Sagishi quickly begins questioning who exactly it is that they have been traveling with this whole time.

"Baldy Nolocks?" Galen retorts at the suggestion. "Now, look here; Sir Songstrong has been very good to us, and there is no need to be disrespecting him so. If he says you may call him Baldy, so be it, but do try to not be rude." Galen, having defended the good dwarven cart driving mercenary knight's very honor, places his weight upon his walking quarterstaff, turning to the dwarf and asking, "So, Thurtwin, who is this Stonecipher? Some mighty folk hero?"


((Rolls equal 16, 24, and not 21(18, need a 20 on the die to pass). So Galen sees and knows about what one would expect from him. More, actually, as he managed to pass one.))
 
Ludwig nods dismissively, "Ok, I stand corrected. Not both sides then, the myriad of sides. Same difference, same hatred of liberty as an end result just about every time."

Code:
[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=159136]Perception: 1D20 + 3 = [17]+3 = 20
[/url]
Ludwig gets a good glance at Marthor's ring, but for the time being, its significance is lost on him. He continues along with the rest of the group towards where they'll be staying.
Code:
[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=159137]Perception: 1D20 + 3 = [10]+3 = 13
[/url]
By now, Ludwig is used to everyone staring at him like he's some kind of circus animal. He puts a little strut in his step as the party walks along, looking about at the gawkers. It seems a little odd to him that the drow are all hooded up, but he is significantly less alarmed by their appearance than they are by his.

A stream of names leaves Ludwig unsure of what to call the dwarf, so he looks toward Barrows and says "Uh, I guess we'll get the specifics ironed out, Fernández."

He stays around for the subsequent conversations of importance, and it is at this point that he connects the ring Marthor was wearing earlier with what Sagishi described back in Bellows.
 

Mike M

Nick N
Barrow shakes his head at Keranos's inquiry. "I don't know Marthor personally, but I know his like well enough. He's a snake wrapped in the skin of rat that was eaten by another snake in a snake pit full of snakes." He waves his hand vaguely in the air. "The place be full of snakes, that's th'key point I be tryin' t'make. I'd... rather not catch his attention in th'first place, that's all."

As the question of what he should be called if not Barrow Stonecipher prompts a salvo of good natured ribbing at his expense, he waves his hands to cut off any further conversation. "Bah!" he growls. "Ye all are a real pack of clowns, aren't ye? A bonafide circus, that's what we got here. Just let me handle things for a bit, all right?"

On that note, he strides into the foyer of the inn. The ceilings are low by most humanoid standards, but still provide enough clearance for even a tall elf to stand upright. That doesn't do anything to allay the sense of claustrophobia and the constant reminder that uncountable tons of stone hangs above one's head at all times.

The inn itself seems to be well appointed in spite of all this, featuring bas relief carvings of what might be the heroic exploits of Old King Hector lining the wall, accented with ornate flourishes. The stone floor is almost entirely covered by a lush, purple rug of exceptional quality; it looks as though it could have been rolled out for the first time this morning, and not a soul has trod upon it since.

Perched behind a tomb almost as large as she is, is an elderly-looking halfling woman with a pair of thick glasses. She eyes Barrow with a neutral expression as the dwarf strolls up to the font counter with an exaggerated air of casualness.

"Yes?" she asks, leaning forward to peer over her book at Barrow.

"Rooms, if ye please," Barrow says, leaning his elbow on the counter and giving her what he probably thinks is his most winning smile, but is more akin to a grimace. "There be seven of us, not countin' my J'raffa friend out there. He be a J'raffa, you know. Very rare 'round these parts, I wager."

The halfling woman seems unimpressed by the company Barrow keeps, instead flipping through the pages of her register with her quill in hand until she finds a blank page. "Name?"

Barrow's smile falters. "Name?"

"For the register, sir."

"Oh. My name be Baaaaaaaaaaarrrrr--tholomew. Bartholomew. That be I."

"And your surname, Bartholomew?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your last name. The name of your family or house. You are Bartholomew of...?" she rolls her hand at the wrist in a gesture inviting him to complete his sentence.

"Right, right," Barrow says, his casting his eyes about the lobby in a subdued panic. He coughs into his fist to buy him some time. "I be Bartholomew, uh... Plant... corner. Bartholomew Plantcorner."

The receptionist follows Barrow's gaze to a corner of the room where a planter containing a manicured shrub sits as decoration. "Bartholomew Plantcorner," she repeats.

"Aye. Bartholomew Plantcorner!" Barrow says, puffing out his chest and reasserting his confidence once more. He stabs the pages of the book with his forefinger. "Write it down!"

The receptionist shrugs and puts her quill to the paper and writes down the name. Halfway through, she pauses and looks up at him. "Aren't you--"

"Bartholomew Plantcorner!" Barrow squeaks.

"Because you look a great deal like--"

"I look a great deal like Bartholomew Plantcorner, because that's who I be!"

Again, the receptionist shrugs and finishes writing the name before handing over a number of keys to the rooms. "Welcome to the Lovely Buttoncap. Please enjoy your stay."

Muttering his thanks, Barrow scoops up the keys and takes them back out to the others. "Not. A. Word." he says, biting off each word as he says it. He distributes the keys to the others and hikes his pants up by the belt. "Right, then," he says. "The tunnels to th'White Wastes were on the lowest level, as I recall, though I haven't the foggiest how one goes about going through them. Nobody's had occasion to try, that I can recall. It be the dullest posting in the city guard, to hear them talk of it, but guard it they do."
 
As Barrow disappears into the inn, Galen looks around at the rest of the group. "I think calling him 'Baldy' might have upset him," he says. "Perhaps we should look into a wig to avoid this in the future?"

Once the situation with the mysterious tunnels has been explained, Galen asks "Does anyone know why they would be guarded? It seems odd to think there would be a reason to prevent anyone from entering them, seeing where they lead, and if nobody enters, who is there to keep from coming out?"
 
"I suspect it's more to keep others out than anyone in. Still, it would be nice to have some sort of map through. I imagine at least some of the less savory types around here might use them for smuggling, if nothing else." He leans back a bit and continues.

"Either way, it might behoove us to get a lay of the land. I think the events of the outside world may impact what's going on here."
 
Ludwig looks back and forth between Barrow and the innkeeper, taking in their exchange like an audience member watching a comedy act. The J'raffa stiffles his laughter to avoid giving Barrow more hoops to jump through, but breaks down once he heads off.

"Bartholemew Plantcorner?! Damn! If that's the bar, maybe I have what it takes to make things up on the fly after all!" In between laughs, he responds to Galen, "I don't think it's the being bald that he was upset about... fuck it, let's get together and buy him a wig in case it is!"

"Yeah, probably just city types telling people where they can and can't go. That's not unusual in and of itself." As they get to talking about the tunnels more, he sighs. "Not looking forward to cramped tunnels. I only have one shrinking potion on me, and I don't know if that's enough to navigate them. Thosar, you have any magic you could work if it wears off? I really don't want to get stuck or crushed to death by tunnel walls."
 
For the next ten minutes, Fhiess can't help but think of what names would've been better.. but it's well too late, perhaps the name will seem more convincing outside of its impromptu origin.

Otherwise, he doesn't really have much insight on how to approach the tunnels.
 
Thosar nods at Ludwig. "I searched for a spell just for what you speak of. It doesn't last long, but I can shrink you if needed... Or make you even larger should that come up."
 

Mike M

Nick N
((Okay, after a week of crunch time, I'm able to actually do stuff again! Nothing immediate is happening, so you guys are free to explore Hammerfall at your leisure and chase down whatever leads you want.))
 
"That's good to know. And a growing spell?..."
-----------------
Ludwig's mind wonders to a coastal city, with no shortage of people having a good time on the beach. There are sand castles getting made, people playing beach ball, and some just working on their tan. The waves are especially good for surfing today; unusually so, even. It starts with a single surfer running out of the water in a panic, followed by more swimmers. By the time the people on the beach see what's going on, it's too late.

A gigantic, bipedal lizard rises from the ocean, crushing people underfoot as it makes its way to the city proper. A fleeing human points up and begins to yell "Goji-" but is stepped on before he can identify the menace. The monster wastes no time tearing apart buildings and scorching roads with what almost looks like a dragon's fire. Its roars can be heard across the entire city.

Ludwig is in the midst of fleeing with the others. That monster is just too big, even for him. If only someone could do something. He droops his head in shame, at which point he notices the bracelet he was given for this exact kind of occasion. "Oh yeah! I CAN do something!" Ludwig exclaims. The J'raffa crosses his two front legs, raises one towards the sky, and starts spinning. Almost immediately, he grows not just to match the size of the attacking monster, but also sprouts a pair of wings alongside two extra heads and necks.

The battle-ready Ludwig crashes through a building to confront the giant lizard, which drops a carriage to roar at him. Now that he's closer, he recognizes the roar as a crude form of draconic. "You will all pay an extra five percent in income tax to subsidize universal healthcare!" the beast roars as it chunks half a building at Ludwig. Ludwig bats it away with one of his necks while roaring back in draconic, "No! That's best left to private insurance companies! You'll turn every hospital into the Department of Magicked Carriages!

Ludwig flaps his wings to buffet the giant lizard with fierce winds, inadvertently catching dozens of fleeing citizens in the gust while doing so. The monstrosity casually deflects debris with its tail, and rushes in to melee range. The two beasts grapple back in forth for several minutes, locked in a stalemate as the stagger around crushing anything left on the road. Eventually, they both leap back, knowing what must be done to end the fight. The giant lizard launches a great beam of fire from its mouth, as Ludwig's three maws form a triangle beam. The two beams clash, moving each other back and forth. Ludwig's beam gradually overpowers the giant lizard's, and crashes into the monster. It, and everything in a 4 kilometer cone behind it, are vaporized.

His power spent, Ludwig shrinks back to his regular size. The survivors run up and hail him as a hero. "Everything but the city hall will be rebuilt better than ever!" They shout in celebration. Ludwig is raised into the air by the grateful crowd and paraded through the ruins. Today, justice has won.
-----------------
Ludwig comes out of his daydream and returns his attention to Thosar. "Yeah, I can see how that would be useful."

((Ludwig's not a good investigator, so going to go ahead and keep his spare time to seeing if there are any candidates that basically want to dismantle the government.))
 
<I'm thinking about having Fhiess doing portraits during downtime and then getting hired by a political candidate to make an advertisement, but I'm not sure what kind of candidate it should be.>
 
((I thought about doing a writeup, but Keranos is really just going to hole up in the inn and pretend as hard as he can that he's not underground, until it's time to continue on. I don't think much more can come from that unless anyone else wants to strike up a scene with him))
 
((
I thought about doing a writeup, but Keranos is really just going to hole up in the inn and pretend as hard as he can that he's not underground, until it's time to continue on. I don't think much more can come from that unless anyone else wants to strike up a scene with him
Keranos? Hide in an inn? Yeah, sure; Galen will want to check up on him. Sagishi can come along, too, if he would like. However this turns out, Galen's likely to look around the city afterward, though he probably won't find anything relevant.

He's actually going to try to talk to Thosar about how best they should look into the tunnels before either he or Thosar does anything. And on that note, would Barrow have any idea of anyone with the knowledge of why the tunnels are guarded?

And Nezumi,
Galen and Sagishi could always go for a look at the tunnels themselves. As long as they can keep out of trouble, a little scouting shouldn't be too bad. They would just need to be certain to keep out of trouble.

If that's the bar, maybe I have what it takes to make things up on the fly after all!
Okay, where's Jackben with the party's new Tiefling lawyer when you need him? That'll raise the bar for sure.

I've got nothing for Fhiess' ambitions of entering the world of advertising beyond Jules Verne jokes. And after the lawyer comment, it may be best to try to keep from journeying too deep toward the center of this insanity))
 
<I do have an idea for a scene, I might just make it a self contained thing for a single post rather than an ongoing arc>

EDIT:

During the evening, Fhiess sets up a stand to offer quick portraits just had he done so weeks before. His work and selling paintings continues as normal until he is approached by a well dressed figure taking interest in his work. "Well hello there! I see that you have a hand for producing stills. I'm sure you've heard of me, I'm Nathaniel, a candidate for office and I couldn't help but propose a proposition?"

Fhiess looks to the politician, "Oh, it's no bother! I am open to considering propositions as a craftsman of Hogan's Exports."

"Wonderful! You see I am campaigning on the promise of bringing sunlight to the city. Hammerhead is a beautiful place, but devoid of sunlight- Not that many of its residents mind, but it has major economic repercussions especially during time of crisis when import is more difficult as of late. I propose the idea of blowing holes to allow beams of sunlight to allow farming our own budget of crops. Perhaps a picture of a beautiful meadow blossoming to demonstrate this?"

Soon Nathaniel is shoved aside by another, "Let us not be hasty! Perhaps you would rather paint an ad for Merton, running to prevent Nathaniel's madness here and propose guidelines to preserve the integrity of this great mountain that is a geological landmark of the surface world and the image of our city both! An image of the outside showing the greatness we live in, please!"

Fhiess, though he understands that a lot hinges on his choice, knows that Hogan would want him to be a business first. He is sure Ludwig would want this too, being a J'Raffa that puts the free market above all else. He smiles and attempts to compromise, "I am welcome to paint both advertisements for you both. I'm sure that shouldn't be unreasonable?"

Nathaniel is the first to be apprehensive, "And allow my name to be tarnished by thoughts of collusion?That is unreasonable indeed!" Mertin responds, "Hmph, I'll simply find another artist that won't help my competitors. Best of luck, sir."

The two politicians walk off and Fhiess had lost business. His shoulders droop, "...oops."
 

Mike M

Nick N
and on that note, would Barrow have any idea of anyone with the knowledge of why the tunnels are guarded?

((He does, I was just going to include it in the next writeup once I know what everyone wants to do. It's nothing elaborate.

Alright, so we have Keranos cowering beneath the weight of a mountain looming above his head, Ludwig is going to explore the city and see if there's any candidates he wants to advocate for, and Fhiess wants to try and work his hustle on his side gig. There are a couple dangling plot threads here, so I don't want to presume anything anyone's going to do.))
 

Nezumi

Member
((Don't really have anything for Sagishi either. If there is something like a hot spring bathhouse in town, he'll likely go there, but when Galen asks him to do some snooping around he'll come around as well.))
 

Mike M

Nick N
The past several days' travel weighing heavily upon their shoulders, the Endowed take some much needed downtime after their arrival to Hammerfall and take in the sights and sounds.

It is an incredibly lively place, though whether this is owed to the current crisis storming outside the thick walls of the mountainside or the natural state of affairs, only Barrow Bartholomew Plantcorner can say for certain, and he seems perfectly content to hide in his room at the Lovely Buttoncap with the lights put out and placard indicating that he does not wish to be disturbed hanging from the recessed door handle.

There are tiered sunken pits where what appears to be some manner of stock exchange is conducted in shouted voices and waved slips of paper. Equally busy are the gambling dens, though they curiously eschew the usual dice and card games in favor of some complicated game that seems part horse race and part lottery system. And everywhere, there are the campaigns of candidates, their extravagance ranging from something that would make the half-forgotten Mayor Whimsley blush to little more than a wooden sandwich sign and a step stool to stand on while shouting at passersby with a speaking horn.

The more one examines these campaigns, the less they take the form of the conventional means of addressing the public. In fact, their interactions and cadence have more in common with busking and hustling, like the sort of interaction one might expect to have with the unsavory sort who stand outside of pleasure houses and attempt to entice potential customers through the door.

At one point, one such interaction between a dwarf and a campaigner results in the very obvious exchange of Hammerfall currency for one of the slips of paper witnessed at the stock pits. This observation throws everything else that has been witnessed into stark relief: The races being bet on in the gambling houses are those of candidates, with a thriving side-betting scheme on the passage or rejection of legislation. The only stock being exchanged in the pits are the tokens of enfranchisement of Hammerfall's citizenry.

They are literally buying and selling votes as though it were a commodity.
 
Ludwig trots around Hammerfell, disregarding the gawking people around him to try and figure out what kind of candidates are running. As he passes some of the campaign sites, his initial reaction is one of contempt. Where's the policy? Where are the large novelty signs with a bunch of zeroes to show off how big the government's debt is? It just seems to be missing so much.

This sentiment comes to a crashing halt when Ludwig connects the transactions to the gambling pits and realizes that people are betting on the races. Overcome with emotion, the J'raffa stops walking forward all together as tears stream down his face. "They... found a way to leave elections to the free market!" No matter who's running now, Ludwig no longer knows if he can possibly do anything to make this system any more perfect.

Almost desperate to get in on the system, Ludwig begins to make his way towards one of the totalizators in the gambling pits. He fishes for some metal to exchange for votes, only to find that his bag is empty. Shit! That's right, I spent everything I had back in Bellows, trying to be responsible and gear up for world saving business. Well that bit me in the ass pretty quick. Unable to take place in the betting for now, Ludwig still goes over to one of the totalizators to see which candidates have the best odds. The free market is never wrong, so even if he can't participate right now, he can see who the gamblers believe the frontrunners to be. Once that's done, he needs to find a way to make some quick pocket change, and fast.
 

Mike M

Nick N
((Ha, I've been wondering since we started how Ludwig would react when we got here.

Are you actually wanting a list of candidates/legislation, or was that just flavor text?))
 
((I had to mull over it a bit myself to come up with something, it was a tricky situation to come up with his sentiment for. In the end, going in on free market electioneering seemed like the right call. Ludwig to join Dwarves United coming soon :p

Let's say the top three candidates. No need for policies unless there seems to be something that screams Ludwig near the top of that list.))
 

Mike M

Nick N
As near as Ludwig can tell from studying the odds, the governing body of Forgerun is some manner of tricameral parliamentarian system; there are three houses, each of which are composed of three chambers. Representatives are allotted based on a combination of at-large seats proportionate to party registration numbers and direct election of specific representatives. Each house has an executive position called a Forge Lord, which are far and away the top-line races being followed by everyone. The current incumbent of each Forge Lord position is favored to win, but only barely.

((I kind of have ridiculously extensive notes about all this...))
 
((Oooh, I don't have to feel bad about trying to dive deep then. Time for political adventures with Ludwig!))

Ludwig's initial glance at the odds tells him a little about the governing system. If the free market's slightly favoring the incumbents, they can't be completely bad. Still, he wants to know just how much the market here supports freedom.

Taking advantage of policies being included on the betting, Ludwig takes notes on the number of policies geared towards regulation versus deregulation, tightening of criminal penalties versus loosening, their respective odds, and how popular they seem to be in terms of relative betting. Once he has that information, he'll try and cross-reference it with the representatives that put forth the policies to try and figure out who the most pro-freedom members of the various houses are. With that information, he can know who he should try and do his part to point the market forces towards.
 

Mike M

Nick N
<Question for clarity, is this after a time skip and we're all seeing this, or are we still doing our own things?>

((Everything outside the additional details Ludwig has uncovered is stuff that would have been observed by everyone in the course of whatever it is they wanted to do around town. Keranos excluded, of course.))
 
After the two men that only briefly considered commissions had left, Fhiess notices their departure to the heart of the political competition scattered about the depths. Curious to learn more, Fhiess decides to pack up his things after few customers offered productivity throughout the day.

It doesn't take long for him to see the political market at work- never has Fhiess seen a form of trade so insular and the commodity: odds and percentages with little regard to how it may outcome the government and policy, and rights to citizenship which to influence victory by proxy.

But Hogan would likely be disappointed if Fhiess did not act as a representative to open opportunities- it doesn't have to be gambling and vote manipulation right? What if Hogan's growing enterprise of entertainers, musicians, and artists could become a market for politicians to market themselves and give their own campaigns the charisma needed to win?

He looks around the city a bit, wondering if he can find a city hall or similar to propose his ideas and establish the basis to make trade negotiations possible.
 

Mike M

Nick N
Ludwig’s oddity seems particularly overwhelming to those who have lived most of their lives with low ceilings in their dwellings beneath the mountain, and he finds that the bewildered Hammerfallians are too stunned by the J’Raffa and his pointed questions about their political system to do anything but answer honestly and forthrightly. Between their answers and the copious amounts of campaign literature available, he’s able to make a few determinations:


  • The central body of the government is the Gottermang, and of its multitudes of houses and chambers, the one that seems like it would most agree with the paladin’s undying faith in the free market and limited government would be House Ell, particularly the chambers Yarl and Narn. The Chamber of Yarl is dominated by parties representing artisans and merchants, while by all appearances the Chamber of Narn functions as a government organ of the banking sector of Hammerfall. The third chamber, the Chamber of Lain, is filled with representatives mostly concerned with maintaining the culture of Forgerun against outside influences with a stern emphasis on law and order.
  • The organization of each chamber is nearly as complicated as the system as a whole: Each has multiple parties, which are in turn each subdivided further into caucuses (some of which even cross parties), which are in turn subdivided into individual reps. It’s difficult to keep track of.
  • Legislation is passed by securing the vote of 2 of the 3 houses, each of which is accomplished by securing the vote of 2 of the 3 chambers of the house. It doesn’t take much to realize that this means you only need to get two chambers in two houses to pass something in spite of the majority of the vote.
  • Most of the legislation currently under consideration looks to be pretty typical, boilerplate affairs about requisitions and allocations of funds and what not, but there’s definitely a hot topic of the season: It seems that there is a debate on whether citizenship--and subsequently the right to participate in the elections--should be extended to the denizens of the Underdark who have fled the reign of the Drow and made their home throughout Forgerun. The odds favor that the motion will fail 2:1, but the scuttlebutt is that it has a puncher’s chance if the proponents can game the system well enough. The biggest boosters of the legislation are the Chamber of Lunus of the House of Targus and the Chamber of Ance of the House of Pandam.
If this is the efficiency of the free market at work, one shudders to think what Forgerun would look like under the heavy hand of an expansive nanny-state government.

#

As Fhiess asks around as to where he might go to make proposals of trade agreements, he is directed to the “government building” through a wide tunnel that lies on the other side of the crevasse that runs down the center of Hammerfall. The “building” at the end of the tunnel turns out to be an entire second cavern; the Gottermang alone is as large as Remdormo, with countless rooms carved into the walls of the cavern with massive buildings carved of polished granite sitting in a complex at its center. Representatives, pages, aides, and petitioners are hurrying in every which direction, and the air resonates with the collective drone of their activity like a hive of subterranean bees.

It takes some time, but he finally manages to find the offices occupied by the city government; they are expansive and impressive compared to every other city that the half-elf has visited, but it seems almost quaint sitting in the shadow of the Gottermang. There is a long line of petitioners awaiting their turn at the desk of a battery of clerks, but despite their numbers, the line is still moving at a snail’s pace.
 
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