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Messages - Ravemore
« on: November 26, 2023, 07:26:49 pm »
Session One complete. I'll add a general synopsis of events later this week. Session ran approximately 3 hours long. I'll update the thread, calendar, and Discord when Session Two is ready. The quest line is not closed. Additional players can find an RP way into the next one.
Town Criers in many locations have been hired to publish the following message:
Arthur Widdleford is missing! A well-known archeologist specializing in hieroglyphic languages from ancient Mistone civilizations. The curator of a small Port Hempstead Museum called the "Vizer's Tablet" is offering a modest reward."
Anthony stands outside the Vizer’s Tablet in the cool Port Hempstead evening smoking his thin cigarillo. The sound of an anvil can be heard in the distance in one of the districts many craft halls. The sweet smoke circles his head as he watches two ladies run by him. He starts to say hello, but they are out of earshot too quick. He briefly thought they were going to stop at the alleyway to his small museum, but suddenly discounted that as they passed by. He mumbles to himself “Where are you, Arthur? As he turns and walks to his museum/research shop. An exquisite bottle of red merlot from the Succession Kingdom is waiting for him. *He does not notice the cloaked and hooded figure melding into the shadows of a nearby doorway watching him intensely. *
An Additional Note:
I will often incorporate what I call forum roleplay into my open quests. This takes the form of a Topic posted that IC actions and descriptions can be posted to. It is sort of an offline, turn based form of roleplay in between in-game quest sessions. It will often develop things or set the stage for the in-game action.
I’m playing from the Eastern US time zone and I'm a returning GM. I was on the team back in 2011. I first started playing Layonara in 2006. I met a lot of really cool people here. I come from a long, long roleplaying background. Anyway, real life pulled me away with a cross country move for work, my master’s degree program, and later a cancer diagnosis for both my wife and I. We both beat it and I’m pushing 5 years now in the clear. The kids are grown up, graduated college, have good jobs, and are mostly on their own. I’ve been back to Layonara since last fall and I’m now ready to do some part time GM work. So… a little bit about my GM style.
1.) I enjoy putting together short impromptu quest sessions most. My ideal groups are smaller. I’m likely to limit participation to no more than 3-6 players. If I schedule a quest its usually “first come first serve.” I love dropping random monsters or encounters on players without formal quests. If you are in the Deep and start seeing weird stuff and it starts becoming much more difficult… A good bet is that I’m probably in the server.
2.) After I have had a fair amount of time re-learning the tools and lore I will run CDQ’s, but there are some caveats. Characters need to be below 10th level. You need to have a journal with enough material for me to work with. Although I will run Corath themed quests, I will not involve myself in ones affecting leadership positions in the church or other affiliated organizations. My main player character could potentially create conflicts (real or imagined.) If I get more than two pending CDQ’s I’ll shut myself off from more signups until further notice. It might be a long time too. I’m not keen on the idea of running them one after another continuously. For the time being I am closed, but I'm open to discussing future ones though now via PM's in Discord.
3.) Good RP will get you good XP… Excellent RP will get you excellent XP. No RP will get you a rust monster.
4.) Actions have consequences… some can be long lasting. Some might be awesome. Some might make you cry.
5.) I’m kind of picky about sleeping/resting. You don’t have to ask permission, but out in the wild places of the world, camps should be set up and night watches placed. Study your spell books, talk with each other a little bit, eat a little food, etc. In towns I don’t want to see you dropping in the middle of the busy street to rest. Find a place that makes sense.
6.) Loot should be split among all players at the end of the quest round-robin style. True should be evenly divided. No hiding or stealing… even if your class or alignment makes sense.
7.) Please have some patience with my use of mechanics and lore... it has been a long time since I have done this work.
8.) I reserve the right to make changes to this later.
Stygian is weaving his way among the stalls of the Leringard market looking for interesting odds and ends. He is nibbling out of a small bowl of shaved ice covered in blackberry syrup. While licking the wooden spoon he is abruptly bumped by a burly man wearing the badge of a member of the dockworker’s guild and his shaved ice tumbles to the ground. He stares at it for a few minutes… anger rising in him like a furnace being coaxed to life. The man growls at Stygian “Stay out of my way little man.” Stygian smiles. “Forgive me sir. I should have been paying closer attention to my surroundings. I was looking for rare magical items masquerading as mundane junk. Luckily, I found a few…” He pauses as the large man shows immediate interest and he responds... “I wish I could find something magical to bring that shrew of a wife of mine to heel.” Stygian smiles. There is an evil glint in his eye that almost dissuades the large man… almost. Stygian says, "my name is Adder, and for a simple bowl of shaved ice with some blackberry syrup I’ll provide you the cure for your unfortunate marital situation. No other charge.” The man turns and hurriedly makes his way to the shaved ice vendor.
When the man returns with Stygian’s bowl of shaved ice, they head to a nearby alleyway for some privacy. Stygian extends his hand and opens it. Inside is a small leather pouch. “There is a magical dust inside this pouch. When your wife is in the kitchen cutting up the meat for your dinner, pour this dust into your palm and toss it into the air in a way that it will cover both of you… then tell her how you feel about her being a shrew. I assure you, things will resolve themselves.” The man takes the pouch with a grunt and quickly leaves without so much as a thank you. *Stygian chuckles as he leaves and wonders how things will turn out with all that Star Dust of Grand floating in the air in such a small room full of cutlery.
« on: November 05, 2022, 08:32:02 pm »
*Stygian is riding his black horse along the old worn road, deep in the Gloomwood. Mesgard is nearby. Perhaps another hour of travel*
For the third time in the last hour I have caught a glimpse of an undead creature in the brush watching me. Assessing me. I ignore them because I have no fear. I am sure they can sense who I am. It is possible I may have even created some of them. *dry chuckle and wry grin* They can recognize the taint of the Mortis Mentis marking me as an Oraculis of the Veneficus. The Oraculum Mortis took my measure and did not find me lacking, and now I am bound to him and growing in power. The font of his knowledge and resources has no end or depth. It is truly endless in all sense of the word… and I drink from it like a man stranded in the desert with no water walking into an oasis. *Stygian unconsciously rubs his side where he cut his own rib from his body. The lingering pain that will likely never leave is a constant reminder of his allegiance*
*Stygian has been in Arnax for several months training with the Priests and Priestesses. Learning the formal dogmas and rites of the clergy. They are suspicious of him because he is Veneficus, but they recognize that he has been blessed by the Dark Lord and chosen to walk this path. They will never accept him, but they will tolerate him for the time being. He reports regularly to the Oraculum Mortis on the inner working of the temple and the rumors and whispers uttered in the shadowy depths of its halls.
As Stygian approaches the first outbuildings of Mesgard he can see the cloaked figure of the Mayor waiting. He bows to Stygian in deep respect, “Stipatio, welcome back. As always, your presence is delightful.” *There is no joy or excitement in his voice* *Stygian nods, nudges his heels into the side of his horse, and continues in the direction of the Maligare’s headquarters.
I would like to thank everyone for all of the warm “welcome backs” in game and Discord. Coming back to Layonara after so many years has been a treat. Sort of like seeing family after a long absence. Looking forward to spending more time in game becoming familiar with the locations, experiencing the changes, and spreading the evil of Corath across the lands once more.
Vorlich’s report was received by Tarin, a cleric at a small Toranite Chapel in the outskirts of the dirty and corrupt city of Fort Vehl. After the Ugly Deep Gnome departed, Tarin quickly delivered the information to two particular Paladins of the Order of the Longsword stationed at the chapel. After reading through the report they head into the city and locate the candy vendor. After a brief and violent struggle he is arrested and transported out of Fort Vehl and detained for further questioning.
Quill nods at Vincent’s suggestions. “Yes, I initially had that thought too, but there are no signs of plant residue or pollens.” He frowns a little with a thoughtful look on his face. Vincent’s probing for indications of Al’Noth reveal the same slight traces of transmutation magic on the body. The room itself does not have any other discernable auras, but various pieces of gear belonging to the other people in the room radiate differing levels of Al’Noth.
Katelyn’s probings narrow down the type of magic a little further. It has an arcane taste or feel to it… nothing divine can be discerned.
Lola’s physical touching and feeling of the surfaces of her face seems to indicate the bone structure remained unchanged. She does not feel any cartilage where a nose should be though. She can also feel the eyeballs underneath the smooth skin surface, and what appears to be a tongue.
Quill glances at the leather clad man standing next to Katelyn, but says nothing yet. He picks up a small and razor sharp scalpel and bends over the body and begins making some deft incisions around the dead girl's head. He grabs a pair of forceps and begins peeling the skin back to reveal flesh, muscles, bones, and veins. “No face underneath it appears. Alteration is out of the question. It appears that all of the cartilage and muscle structure underneath has disappeared...as well as the original skin and has been replaced by this new skin covering. Her face was “taken” and the smooth skin replacing it covered all of her breathing orifices and she suffocated.”
Quill glances at Vincent and says….”It looks like some field investigation work needs to be done. I would have to concur with the gentleman.
Quill smiles as he watches the interactions among everyone taking place in his autopsy room, apparently delighted at Lola's appearance and the eagerness of so many people to look into this strange occurrence. "Very nice.. very nice! It looks like we have a knowledgeable group assembled with a wide variety of professions and experience. A group willing to seek knowledge..." He pauses as he obviously catches himself in the beginning stages of a long-winded speech and clears his throat. “Ahemm.. ok. So, this is what we have. Young Darla Winters here was found in alley off of Brockminster Way. She was a peddler of fruit. Human. Approximately 23 years old. After examining her internal organs it is apparent to me that she suffocated… dreadful way to go by the way. The time of death was probably within an hour or so of her discovery. The smooth skin that is now her face extends over the entire head and terminates in a nice tidy ring around the neck. It appears to be new and unblemished skin. It meshes perfectly with the preexisting dermal layers. How this happened.. I do not know. It is entirely unprecedented.”
Diddly Tankard was literally shaking in his small, delicate, fashionable, suede boots while being confronted by an angry Tyraa. “I swear miss! I had nothing to do with the corruption of the picture! I did not even know such a thing was possible!” Fearing for his life he hands over a list. “These were the other contestants…please, please, please, don’t hurt me?” He stumbles a little as Tyraa lets go of his lace “puffy shirt” and he quickly exits the shop throwing fearful glances over his shoulder.
The list reads:
Balthazaar Drummond, a silk merchant in Port Hempstead has been a long time supplier of raw goods for the Angel’s Guild. He also purchases large quantities of their finished products for resale. Charlie puts a check mark next to Balthazaar’s name on his list with a small piece of charcoal and settles in across the street next to some empty crates. He sips wine from a flagon throughout the day while he watches the shop. Business appears to be good for Balthazaar. A lot of traffic, but nothing suspicious.
The sun is beginning to drop in the sky, and shadows lengthen.
As Charlie enters the shop, a set of bells jingle over the door. He is approached by Balthazaar, who does not seem overly concerned with any of the questions being asked of him. He explains that a female Halfling came by the shop, not more than two days prior, asking about purchasing Angel’s Guild debt, but he sent her on her way. He hands over a card, explaining she left it with him “in case he should change his mind.” It Reads:
Dunmarble Equity Partners
18 Sternmark Street, Creedo