Friday, October 18, 2013

The Ever Expanding Dungeon: Session 23 pt 1

This is going to be a multi-part post due to time constraints, i.e. work, on my part!

Day 68 - Day 98 Mourning and rest

After the death of Perceval, the party went about dealing with the loss, each in their own ways. Sister Linkat threw herself into her work, tending to her growing flock. The villagers and the itinerant loggers alike found much comfort in her words,nearly as much as she did.With Perceval's passing she took on the guardianship of the mule - as a final act committed in Perceval’s name, the 22 gp he had on him were dedicated to its care and feeding.

Manchiver, having only briefly known Perceval, was the least affected by the loss. Because of the great suspicion under which magic is viewed since the encounter with White Eyes, the Wizard, at Sister Linkat's suggestion, Manchiver has limited his studying and practice to his room at the inn.

Dleggit was hardest hit, he blamed himself, despite Sister Linkat's attempts to argue otherwise. Sister Linkat gifted the bandolier of 5 silver daggers that Perceval wore to Dleggit. These were the daggers that Perceval donned upon the death of Malazar when he swore vengeance for the death of his friend. She had hoped he would find some motivation, some sense of strength from them, and not at the bottom of one of the many bottles he drank daily trying to forget.

[Mythic 5 room model]
Room 1 Entrance/Guardian
Oppress Liberty]

On the 31st day following Perceval's death, Dleggit, as had become his usual, sat in the tavern ordering an ale mere minutes after the rooster hailed the sun's rise. The regulas, mostly new loggers on their way to one of the camps, were there too, so, at least he didn't look terribly out of place, but he talked to no one. Ordinarily, they would clear out and he would be left alone with his thoughts, except this day he wasn't.

[For the NPC's description I used www.rpgsolo.com 's Mark's Adventure Glyphs. One was a great helm]

Seated at the end of the bar was a new face. A boisterous fellow in leather armor, covered in dust, his great helm on the bar's counter, sat and ate a bowl of gruel and biscuits. When he had finished, he washed it down with mulled wine, wiped his mouth and in a gruff voice said to the bartender, "Ya know where I can find Perceval by any chance?"

The bartender, hushed and with a note of sadness, replied, "Aye, but he has been taken to the next world."  

Dleggit downed his mug and growled, "And I never knew a braver man!"

[is the stranger a messenger? 50/50, 18, yes. Is he hear to deliver a threat? 50/50 14, yes]

The stranger offered his condolences and noted that he had a message he was to deliver to Perceval.

Deleggit offered to take the message and do whatever was needed with it. With a nod and expressing his appreciation, the stranger produced a tightly rolled parchment, handed it over and disappeared before Dleggit could finish unrolling it.

In perfectly formed letters of dried blood, it read: "Your time has come, and my revenge has too. The villagers will pay for your deeds. They shall spend eternity as slaves to Hool the Accursed. - White Eyes the Wizard."

Perceval loved this village and that was enough motivation for Dleggit to pledge to keep this threat from becoming reality.

2 comments:

  1. Have you thought of publishing this in book-form?

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    Replies
    1. I take that as quite a compliment. No, I have not, although it has inspired me to consider the possibility of writing some kind of swords & sorcery fiction.
      -John

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