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From Out of a Dream [Quest]

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  • If even 1 other person will vote Tell the whole truth I'll vote that way as well, because let's go out with a bang!

    But otherwise, Essentials is the obviously wisest answer.


    I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
    I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

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    • I was tempted by whole truth but after the whole lets get cursed Schtik I figure some discretion. That being said maybe we could strike a compromise, more truth but not the whole truth. I'm here on behalf of a created people who wish to be attached to the wheel kind of thing.

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      • "Just the facts, ma'am."

        This line is often attributed to Jack Webb as Sgt Friday on Dragnet. The actual line was, "All we want are the facts, ma'am."
        And if she knows where a smoldering guy can get a bite to eat nearby, that would be great.


        Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
        An Exalt is never unarmed.

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        • You briefly consider showing Silk Butterfly your mark, but decide against it. She did not ask for your context - only your reasons. "{I have living kin whose fates are in question,}" you reply, choosing your words as carefully as she did. "{I would have the court of the dead see to their souls.}"

          Silk Butterfly looks surprised, then confused. "{See to their souls... how, if they yet live?}"

          "{I fear they are not tied to the Wheel, and the gods shall make no place for them after death.}"

          She puts a hand on her lips. "{That is a most uncommon problem}" she says, after a few moments' pause. "{Certainly, thou must go unto the Violet Bier of Sorrows itself to have thy case heard. But as for who governs the fates of fateless people...}"

          "{What must I do?}" you ask, while she is apparently lost in thought.

          Her eyes snap to yours. "{Stay,}" she says. "{Thou hast asked much of me. If thou hast any civility to thy name, allow me to ask one more question of mine own.}"

          You pause briefly, then nod.

          "{You saw, surely, the many possessions of Ozdis that were spared from fire,}" she begins, then waits. You nod again to prompt her to continue. "{Didst thou see among them a wooden casket, no larger than thine hand? It would be plain thing, perhaps the only unadorned thing among the god's riches.}"

          "{What dost thou care for plain wooden boxes?}" you wonder aloud.

          "{This casket holds... an essential object. Forgive me, but I am bound to say no more, save that it is a thing of great importance to many.}"
          • Give her the box with the jewel. The thing, whatever it is, has no use that you know of. May as well use it as payment for information.
          • Give her the box... but not the jewel. If the gem is so important, you'll keep it for yourself. With a little sleight of hand, you can give her an empty box and hope that will keep her trust long enough to get a few more answers.
          • Show her the box, but do not give it to her. At some point, you apparently thought this thing was important enough to steal... or someone gave it to you for safekeeping? Either way, you won't release it. But there's no harm in telling Silk Butterfly where it is.
          • Tell her you saw the box among Ozdis' possessions. That should throw her off the scent for a while.
          • Deny knowing anything. "{I have seen no such thing.}"
          • Something else?



          On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

          Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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          • Fuck it. Give her the box in exchange for help with your quest.


            I write things.

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            • Show it to her and decide after some explanation if it should be traded.

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              • Originally posted by wonderandawe View Post
                Fuck it. Give her the box in exchange for help with your quest.
                It belongs to Ozdis.
                Nergui was happy to fight and kill for things, for money to drink. To steal, and worse.
                That is behind/beneath Otgonbayar. Killing Ozdis over the curse is another matter; one that is less important the the Sunblessed.


                Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                • Originally posted by L'het'esh View Post
                  It belongs to Ozdis.
                  Nergui was happy to fight and kill for things, for money to drink. To steal, and worse.
                  That is behind/beneath Otgonbayar. Killing Ozdis over the curse is another matter; one that is less important the the Sunblessed.
                  (I do not understand what you are voting for. Giving her the box and gem?)


                  On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                  Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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                  • Sorry, Give her the box with the jewel. Keeping it is stealing it, now that we know who it belongs to.


                    Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                    An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                    • Your headache resurges. You rub your forehead, willing it to go away. It does not. Neither does soot smudged onto you. You grimace, rummage around in your damp satchel, and pull out the box.

                      Silk Butterfly says nothing at first, but her eyes go wide. You open the box to reveal the brightly glowing shard inside and she gives a faint gasp. "{How hast thou come by this?}"

                      "{I know not,}" you answer, too pained to be anything except honest and direct. "{When I came to myself in the wake of Caasi Noid's revel, it was in my hand.}" You shut the box, now smeared with the ash you unintentionally spread, and hold it out to her with one hand. "{Take it.}"

                      She reaches out, gingerly takes the box, and tucks it under one arm. "{I thank thee... but thou surely art a most strange figure, Otgonbayar. Truly, dost thou recall nothing of your deeds this night?}"

                      "{Nothing but fragments}," you grumble. "{I drank, I danced, I consorted with gods... I know nothing of the fire nor this box. Now again I ask thee - what must I do to gain audience with the gods of death?}"

                      "{Take heed,}" she replies, "{Most gods of death are no more than that - they see to the deaths of creatures, with no concern for what comes before or after. But thou wouldst know who holds dominion over the fates of the dead, and I know of but two beings in all the worlds who have such power. In the city of the gods thou wilt find one - the Fifth Maiden, Mistress of the Bier of Violet Sorrows.}"

                      A chill runs down your spine. Silk Butterfly, oblivious, continues. "{By custom, the Lady doth not receive mortal petitioners, but the lesser gods may bring you to her for a price.}"

                      "{Which gods, and for what price?}" you ask.1

                      Silk Butterfly holds a hand to her lips again, then snaps her fingers. "{There are three gods - Jucandie, Jacnudei, and Jecaidun. The first reigns over death-by-Treachery, the second over death-by-Inches, and the third over death-by-Surprise. They are brothers, and their rivalry is well-known. They despise each other, for each believes the other two intrudes on their domain. Doubtless, if thou dost aid one brother in his struggle against his siblings, he will guide thee to thy destination. Seek them at the Bier. Say you are on a fated errand, and one of them will surely see you.}"

                      "{...I thank thee,}" you reply.2

                      She nods her head. "{Thou hast been more helpful than thou canst know. Perhaps the fates have smiled on our meeting.}" She shifts her gaze from you to look up at the sky. Then she winces. "{My time grows short. I must go, and thou must journey westward. Fare thee well, Otgonbayar.}"

                      Silk Butterfly turns away from you and resumes her swift walk. You watch her leave, long enough to see her pull a kerchief from her sleeve and carefully wipe the ash from the box you gave her. Then you turn away and continue on your own path.

                      1
                      You're starting to think that your headache comes from dealing with Heaven's cryptic inhabitants, rather than wine.

                      2
                      There's something satisfying about getting a straight answer, beyond feeling sure about your path.

                      You meander through the well-lit streets, leaving a trail of burn marks behind you. The city of the gods is just as impressive at night, in its own way. Glowing crystal orbs atop poles spaced at regular intervals, showering soft yellow light over the road Glass decoration that shined in the sunlight now glitters in the streetlight. Every so often you pass by some spirit or another. Here, a school of glimmering blue fish floating in the air, their formation giving the impression of a human form. There, a child-like creature with grey skin, very large yellow eyes, and a crown of flowers. Once you have to move aside for an enormous wagon wheel, pushing itself along with human arms lining its rim, muttering to itself from a multitude of faces between each pair of arms.

                      Your headache persists. On reflection, you are not sure how long it has been since you last slept or ate. Your soaked clothes clinging to your soot-covered skin are not improving your mood either. Perhaps it is time to solve one of those problems.
                      • Rest.
                        • You're passing by a garden park - perhaps the same one by Ozdis' home? You could sleep awhile on the soft grass under the trees, if you can stand to ignore your other problems.
                        • Some of the god-palaces are built close enough together to create sheltered alleyways. Gutters make for poor beds, but it's better than nothing.
                      • Eat.
                        • Beyond a high, ornamented fence, you see what looks like an orchard. The soft scent of peaches carries on the evening breeze.
                        • Up ahead, you see trails of smoke rising into the sky, along with the unmistakeble sounds of a crowd. A market of some kind?
                      • Refresh.
                        • Water and exercise usually help you get past a hangover. There is a fountain neaby - you'll drink your fill and then take a run to dry off.
                        • You don't need sleep, but a short rest would help. Find somewhere out of the way to start a small fire, strip down, dry off, and rest your eyes for a little while.
                      • Something else?
                        • (For a bit of variety, you can suggest environmental features to this area that you would like to use for the next post)


                      Last edited by semicasual; 07-22-2016, 08:51 PM.


                      On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                      Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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                      • Refresh at the Fountain and Eat at the Market. And try not to set anything on fire.

                        ((I'm probably metagaming by avoided the delicious peaches.)


                        I write things.

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                        • Water and exercise usually help you get past a hangover. There is a fountain neaby - you'll drink your fill and then take a run to dry off.
                          As long as the run is generally westward.



                          Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                          An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                          • Refresh but I woldnt tempt fare by starting what may be our second fire

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                            • The fountain is a broad pewter basin on a stone pedestal, decorated with silver filigree and statues of leaping winged fish. One particulary large fish in the center spews water from a hole in the top of its head.
                              You take off your gloves and thrust your hands in the bowl, scooping up water to drink. Just as you raise your hands to your face, you realize the water is now dark with soot. You pause, considering your options. Your waterskins are far behind you now, along with your horse, and you have nothing else in your satchel that would work as a vessel.

                              Finally, you resort to using one glove as an improvised cup. First you need to rinse the soot out. Even after doing that, the water you drink from it is tainted by hints of bitter ash, sour sweat, and astringent leather. Still, you drink several gloves' worth and begin to feel a little better. When you have finished, you move on at a jog, leaving the fountain slightly befouled behind you.



                              A quarter of an hour later, you come into a wide, open square full of dancing lights. Brightly colored lanterns are strung up everywhere, illuminating a loose gathering of gods clustered around many stalls and tables. At a glance, you see all manner of goods hawked at this bazaar - food cooking over braziers, clothes on racks, rolls of carpets and tapestries, metal and woodwork...

                              "{How dost thou, traveler?}" calls someone in the morass ahead of you. You look around and catch sight of a small, balding man with a big, round hat sitting on top of a tall mound of plush cushions. He is a wearing a long robe that seems to consist entirely of multicolored tassels stuck together, spilling over his seat. He is looking directly at you. "{Thou, whose face is ashen and bears many weapons! Come unto me!}"

                              You walk closer, walking around the throng of market-goers. "{What dost thou wish of me?"} you ask, expecting a harsh answer.

                              The small man spreads his arms wide, waving rows of tassels about. "{Thy question should be mine! I greet thee, newcomer, to the Bazaar of Sublime Negotiations. I, Conscientious Ji, am master here. Mine is dominion over barter between friends, fleeting transactions, and all manner of small commerce in the world.}" He leans forward and bends down, bringing his face much closer to yours without disturbing his cushion-pile. "{Whatever thou desirest - goods, or favors - I can find for thee! Tell me what thou dost seek!}"
                              • Food. The smell of cookery here is driving you crazy.
                              • Uncursing. You find a new reason to loath Ozdis' curse every minute. You'll have to get rid of it.
                              • Transportation. You've come a long way west, but are you any closer to the end? How large is Yu-Shan, anyway? Maybe you should find a better means of travel than your legs.
                              • Nothing. God though he might be, this man has manners common to overenthusiastic salesmen everywhere. You don't have the patience for his displays.
                              • Something else?



                              On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                              Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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                              • Uncursing. You can't go home to your people with this curse hanging over your head.

                                ((The correct answer would probably be Nothing. ))


                                I write things.

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