By the River (Scene 1)

[Stix]

Sigil's dank and musty night gives way to a late Elysian afternoon beneath a cloudless blue sky. The pure air instantly clears the lungs of what passes for breathable atmosphere in the Cage. The group stands on a dusty road beneath the intertwining boughs of two great willows. Standing stones line the road, which wends peacefully through a lush, hilly grassland dotted with large trees.

Fifty paces away is a clear and bubbling river at which a shepherd waters a few dozen sheep. Upon the road nearby lies a corpse, human, with a gaping hole through his torso -- the bebilith's barbed forelimb split through his hauberk like dry leaves before he so much as had time to free his longsword from its sheath. Another human works at digging a shallow hole with a trowel off the side of the road. Of the spider-fiend, there is no sign.

"Welcome," calls the gravedigger, a man with a beard of tight black curls and a green knee-length tunic. "Have you lost your way?"

[john]

John shakes his head, and says, "No, I don't believe I have... did you come on this man after he was killed, or did the see the fiend that did it?"

[exile]

“A hand here, cutters!” Hadrian calls out, as he manhandles the Deva over to the grass beneath the reaching boughs. Laying him down as comfortably as he could manage, the aasimar steps back to survey their surroundings at last. Neither the shepherd nor the gravedigger appeared to be armed, so why then was the corpse so attired in this peaceful place? Stooping low over the body, he hunted for any form of identification or marking.

[Stix]

"There was a big spider that carried him right through that same portal," the gravedigger explains.

Aug 24, 2008 11:49:04 GMT -5 exile said:

“A hand here, cutters!” Hadrian calls out, as he manhandles the Deva over to the grass beneath the reaching boughs. ...Stooping low over the body, he hunted for any form of identification or marking.

A medallion around the deader's neck displays his allegiance to the Transcendent Order.

The shepherd turns from his sheep to hurry over, and the gravedigger drops his trowel and does the same. "This has been an interesting day," says the shepherd.

"A monadic deva!" exclaims the gravedigger, eyes wide. "What happened to him?"

[exile]

“That spider did this to him. He’s been poisoned, I think, and my magic can’t touch it. We need to take him to Principality. Hopefully some cutter there will know what to do.” Hadrian replies grimly. Raising the medallion up for Gl’Fnak to see, he addresses the tiefling.

“This cipher, was he a friend of yours?”

While he waited on his companion to reply, Hadrian turned his attention back to the effects of the deceased. It was odd that the creature had decided to carry him through and then simply deposit him here like this, rather than just slay him where he stood in Sigil. Perhaps the bebilith recognized him? Unlikely, he thought. Perhaps it was just sheer wanton cruelty.

"This spider, it just left you alone? Or did it not see you?" he asked, without turning to look at the shepherd and gravedigger.

[TheGratefulNed]

Gl'Fnak steps out of the portal and, seeing no bebilith, pauses to take a deep breath of the pure, fresh air. He watches as Hadrian and Ybdiel follow through the portal and looks closely at his dead factionmate. With a curt shake of his head, the tiefling replies, "no. I've seen him around the Gymnasium before, but don't know him personally." He then turns to await the Elysians' response to the Madman's inquiry.

[Stix]

"It was a strange creature," the gravedigger confesses. "It dropped the body as soon as it came through, and came after one of our sheep. We told it that it must seek a path of virtue, and that violence and hate were an answer to nothing. It bowed its head in shame, and went down the road." He points across the hills, to where the road winds into a lightly forested area.

"You should seek out the Monks of Accord," suggests the shepherd. "They're renowned scholars and healers, and they might be able to help the deva. There's an inn along the road, the Rollicking Crescent, where there's sure to be someone to give you directions."

[exile]

“It bowed its head and left?” Hadrian paused in his search of the corpse to echo the gravedigger in disbelief. “That hardly sounds like a Bebilith to me. What in the nine-hells do you make of that, Gl’Fnak?” Turning back to his hasty work the aasimar mulled over the shepherd’s suggestions. “I agree that we should seek out these monks, I just pray that we have sufficient time to make a difference. What say you, cutters?”

[john]

"My priority is to save the Deva's life. I owe it that much, after it saved mine." John looks thoughtfully at the deva, then mulls a dark suspicion deep within his heart. "Let's bring him to the monks."

[Stix]

Hadrian's search is met with frowns by the two bystanders, but they don't move to stop him. The deader's possessions include:

• a ruined hauberk
  
• a long sword and scabbard
  
• a hand axe
  
• a full belt pouch
  
• a loaded backpack
  
• a wineskin
  
• bloodstained clothing (boots, braies, belt, ruined tunic, baldric)
  

"Follow the road, stay true to the path of good works, and you'll have no trouble," says the shepherd.

Panicked bleating sounds out from near the river as two small sheep struggle to keep their heads above water, being swept away by the current. Both men are on their feet and rushing to the shoreline in short order to secure the rest of their flock, but they can only stare worriedly as the lambs drift down the river.

[exile]

As the first distressed cries reach his ear, Hadrian rises from his inspection of the deader’s belongings and crosses swiftly over to the riverbank. The current was beyond his limited ability to negotiate, he was certain that any attempts to retrieve them by hand would necessitate his own rescue. It was good that he needn’t rely on his hands alone then.

Concentrating on the rapidly flowing waters themselves, the Bleaker begins to cast.

(OOC: Casting Watery Fist [Spells & Magic] to place the creatures back on land. Spell description says “incapable of fine manipulation” but I’m not exactly asking it to pick a lock here. If you disagree with me, assume Hadrian would know the spell would kill the animals and I will supply a different action instead.)

[john]

John looks on pitilessly as the sheep get swept away. He rumbles at them, sotto voce, "Fight, survive, conquer. Or be lost..."

[Stix]

(I'd say that's a reasonable use. Dice-wise, roll initiative normally; if the modified result is a 10 or less, he'll get three attempts to grab them before they're out of reach, otherwise two. Each attempt is an attack roll at Hadrian's THAC0 vs. AC 8.)

[exile]

Hadrian’s impassioned plea to his power builds in fervor, culminating with a forceful thrust of his outstretched palm towards the river. In complete defiance of reason and the natural order, a column of the water halts impossibly and rises like a terrible serpent. No longer speaking, and sweating with the effort of concentration, Hadrian directs his creation with a delicate scoop of his fingers. Within moments the column responds, racing downstream after the drowning lambs.

Initiative
[dice=10+5]

THAC0 15 against AC 8
Wisdom adjustment to roll +3 (factored in below)

First Attempt
[dice=20+3]

Second Attempt
[dice=20+3]

Third Attempt (if possible)
[dice=20+3]

(OOC: I’m still getting used to the system again, but I believe that’s two successes even with the slow start)[rand=77281554554594590797505460414565428315567384142223529469510609762]

[Stix]

(Yup. Your THAC0 minus the target's AC equals the target number for an attack roll.)

"Oh, blessings on you, sir!" says the thankful shepherd as he picks up a drenched lamb under each arm and moves them away from the river to rejoin the flock.

"Many thanks for the help. To see such a display of kindness, I'm sure the deva is in good hands."

[exile]

“You’re most welcome, cutters,” Hadrian replies with a thin smile as he watches the shepherd reunite his flock. Turning away after a moment, he catches John’s eye and cannot help but laugh at the dour man’s words.

“Now they may live to conquer another day, Taker, ” the Bleaker explains with a solemn wink. Shaking his head at the sheer lunacy of the existence they led, Hadrian returns to his previous occupation. Setting out the dead man’s effects, he enacts a minor divination spell and inspects each item carefully in turn.

(OOC: Casting detect magic on the gear. Also looking in the belt pouch and back pack if you could detail any relevant contents please. I swear I’m almost done )

[TheGratefulNed]

Gl'Fnak watches carefully while the Bleaker examines the deader. Hearing the bleats of the sheep, he smiles at Hadrian's split-second reaction to the situation. "We should have little trouble traveling here."

[john]

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." John croaks, his flayed face twisting into a dark grimace beneath the iron masque of his helmet. "But you're the scout, so I'll defer to you. BUt I don't trust any place to be safe..."

[Stix]

"You're not turning to grave-robbing, are you, sir?" the shepherd asks of Hadrian, looking hurt and betrayed.

[john]

"It'd be no more than his due, and in truth, I rather doubt it. Hadrian has all these odd noble ideals. BUt he's basically mad anyway. The only reason i'm not taking anything is I didn't kill him in a fight myself. I wouldn't consider it honorable to take a trophy from something I hadn't personally killed or defeated. Be patient with the man, I imagine what he's actually doing will come to light momentarily."

John gives the shepherd a glower, as if to punctuate the point made by his raspy voice, almost death-rattling from him.