A Tunnels and Trolls® play-by-post adventure run by khara_khang
As he suspected, Jax chalks it all up to another so-called time storm. The kicker was Martek's use of his clan's trademark expletive.
Slapping the human on the back with a meaty hand, Jax states at the top of the temple steps, "Martek, ol' chap, I am doubly indebted, then. Thanks... again. We'd have never made it out of the swamp alive." The words drip slowly from Jax's tusks as he considers what he just said.
The fortune teller was unremarkable in every respect, save for that eye which kept sparkling like it was made of diamond. Kind of like the twinkle in Mr. Toad's eye, and from Shipy's astonished expression, Jax guessed, like the fortune teller Shipy knew back in Khazan. A dull feeling of déjà vu creeps its way to the fringes of his consciousness, but his mind's attentions are occupied elsewhere. [A reference to the fact that Madame Toubow is the same woman as the gypsy healer Madame Tuvow, who healed Jax and company at the end of Goblins in the Mist. --ed.]
"Lizardmen be damned! If your plan leads me back to my brother, whether he be dead or alive, then I am so willing, Madame," Jax states, realizing with a shiver that his first adventure as an agent of Lerotra'hh started in very much the same manner.
Hmmmm... quite a pickle. Hopelessly outnumbered and facing the deadly legions of untold evil, our hero does the only thing left for a brave skeleton to do. He screams in mock terror, grabs his "chest," falls to the ground faking a heart attack, and uses his detachable parts power to collapse into a pile of apparently useless, apparently dead un-dead bones. Being a former actor, he figures that he can give a fairly convincing interpretation, and waits to see if the Lizard Men bugger off, leaving him to pursue covert skull-duggery against them later....
PLEASE let me get away with this, or at least let me make some kind of saving throw to give it a shot! PLEASE!!
"I am always willing to listen to the voice of wisdom."
Taran, dearie, in your present state of dishabile it's not necessary to read your mind. In other words, is that a sword in your pocket or are you happy to see us? Oops, silly me---you don't have any pockets!
Well, if I can't break the collar, I'll need to keep my eyes open for the lizardman with the keys. Also, I try to remember my lessons from my old school days at Succubus University about lizardman seduction techniques.
"Tell me, Cambrea," I whisper, "what abilities can YOU bring to the table, assuming we make a break for it? Do you know anything about the lizardman shaman Ralathor, why they are so intently hurrying us to his presence, and the time warps? And how did you come to be captured? Were you solo, or with a group?" Since neither strength nor magic nor lockpicking seems to work, Domina thinks it behooves them to have as much info as possible. Maybe this elf can fill in some of the blank spots, while Taran keeps listening to the lizardmen's speech. Domina thinks of one more thing to ask the elf. "What year is it? I suspect Taran and I are not in our own time, but I don't know about you."
"Bout' time 'Suma listens to me! Don't tell me I have to save your brother again Jax?" I whisper, jabbing Jax with my finger, and pulling my hand back and smiling innocently when he looks down at me.
"There is a way to end all of this needless war, but it will require some skill and luck on your part. To do so you would need to return to Khazan immediately and steal the Earth Dragon Helm from the Temple Dragonkopf. Then use the Helm with Martek's help to go back in time to when Ralathor was a child and then kill him. If you can accomplish this goal, none of this will ever have happened and many people who have died will still live. Of course everything rests in your hands," says the little elderly woman. With Jack now missing, it even becomes more difficult. Whatever you choose you may stay here in safety as long as need be.
"I'm not a demon, but am a scout for the Baron and I grew up in these swamps. The Baron will send someone for me eventually. Up until about six months ago all of the Lizardmen in this area were friendly. Some I even called my friends. I only know shaman Ralathor by name, not personally. I don't know why they are hurrying us or anything about any 'time warps.' I was captured alone. As I said, I was out scouting for the Baron. It's the first day of Greenling, on Hawksday of year 1101 A.K. You are very odd," says Cambrea, trying to understand you.
According to Cambrea, it is 213 years before you left Khazan.
Walking along the dirt swamp road in the pre-dawn hours (still naked, to Taran's enjoyment), everyone is startled by dozens huge black ravens, each carrying three human riders, all of which are armed with two shot over-and-under crossbows. Half the number of Lizardmen die before the ravens ever touch the ground. Less than seven men die before the remaining few Lizardman flee.
A human bird rider rushes over to you and removes your slave collars quickly. Each of you are given your original equipment and clothes back, then helped onto two of the ravens. Before leaving you (Domina) take a small red stone from the neck of a dead Lizardman. It's the same red glowing stone which brought you back from death.
"Hurry!" says one of the men. Within minutes you are high above the forest floor and approaching a small heavily walled city, which is under siege by thousands of creatures. This is from where you saw the smoke rising in the distance. Your ravens land on the tallest point (a large keep) within the town. Once you dismount all the ravens/riders fly away. Each of you put your clothes back on.
I like it when a player pleads for help... Maaa Haaa *hike*, *choke*, *cough*! <Rolling Fall-Apart-Fake-Out saving throw> Whoa... that was really close Jack, you only missed it by one point! Who would have thought! <Holding fingers an inch apart> You were that close to pulling it off.
The Lizardmen stand there confused for a moment at your action. One of the Lizardmen motions to you. Other Lizardmen move in and pick up your body parts and stuff and toss them in a heavy leather bag and tie the top with a rope.
"Take him to the Shaman and add his bones to the stew!" You feel yourself being carried away.
Before the raven/riders leave, Taran expresss his thanks for the rescue, and also makes known his admiration for the two-shot over-and-under crossbows his rescuers employed. "Any chance I could trade or upgrade for one of those? It'd double my defense potential of this town, since it seems like we're going to be helping out!"
Taran thinks to himself, "two seek-enchanted missiles at once?!" and nearly has an mental Orcasm™ just thinking about it.
"I'm glad we didn't have to resort to wrestling back there," referring to their time in captivity. Taran smirks, and feels a new level of friendship to the demon as a result of their near-death (or near-dinner) experience.
"Were those riders from your Baron? My thanks to your Baron I'd like to express in person if I could." He extends his hand to the she-elf. "And thank you, for being captured with us, so that we could be rescued with you. Can you fill us in on the situation here?"
"Whoa, you're throwin' us a lotta frak™! No offense, Madame, but is this the only way? 'Oh, just go back in time and murder a lizardman stripling.' Sure thing! Why, I did that last week! NOT!! How do we know you're not in league with Ralathor himself, and are sending us on a wild goose chase to get us out of the way?" Jax fumes.
"And you, Swamp Rat! I'd never seen you before you led us outta the swamp, yet you say you saved me from drowning once! How do you fit into all of this?" Jax lashes out, clearly tired of temporal anomalies, and not comprehending the big picture.
Now don't get me wrong, Jax is really an agreeable Orc as far as Orcs go, no matter how you spell it. It's just that the thought of losing his brother again is stretching his patience thin, not to mention keeping track of what day it is.
Shipy tries to calm down Jax, "Hey, big guy, do you always chew on people you've just met like this?" Just in case Jax glowers, he ducks behind Desuma's legs and peers safely at the burly Orc from between her knees.
But Jax doesn't have time to glower; he isn't finished. "And what about Tosal? Does anybody here realize that he had the map and Ralathor's note? I don't suppose you, Madame Toubow, in your infinite wisdom, can tell us where he is, eh? And while you're at it, find my brother and Domina and Jack too!" Jax breathes heavily as everyone in the room stares at him.
"Ok, I'm done. Thank you for letting me vent." Jax mutters, remembering the shred of humility he learned from Lilac.
Domina also smirks, glad that Taran has his clothes back on. "Well, it could have been worse," she replies, "Shipy could have been with us."
Mentally gagging, Domina thinks that Taran and his brother are the most unorcish orcs that she's ever met, and wonders whether or not they were raised by a tribe of elves or fairies
No, she's not actually saying this, oh orcish mind reader, she's only thinking it.
"Please forgive my friend, he is overcome with concern for his brother. Your plan sounds like a good one; obviously, if we prevented Ralathor from ever being born, our mission would have never been necessary and our companions would be safe. Yet I am concerned that our efforts might somehow only make things worse, so please let me tell you our story. I realize that to an accomplished seeress like yourself this is probably unnecessary, but please bear with me. Are you aware that time is awry?
(Desuma summarizes events for her from the time of Cobalt's meeting onward, including Taran's seeing her body in Khazan---a possible future event? She also finds out the date as compared to what we think it should be, and finds out when and how Martek saved Jax's life before (useful information to have!))
"So you see, if we create a paradox, could we actually be adding to or causing the 'Time Storm'? In addition, why should Ralathor warned Khazan of his plans unless he wanted to manipulate its agents in some way?"
Having also the convieniently bestowed night vision ability, Jack investigates the innards of the bag (gross! all mouldy and stuff!) and starts to scratch around with his little finger, his teeth and a particularly sharp rib for a loose seam in the bag's stitching. Realizing that total escape is not really an option, he's going to try and get just enough of the bag ripped open to let his hand escape surreptitiously. Thinks to himself, "Crud! Damn dilletantes wouldn't know a decent performance if it kicked them in the arse with rubber boots on!"
Oh I did not almost make the roll! You cruel fiend, trying to force me into a never-ending cycle of regret and "what could have beens". You better believe this though: It ain't over 'till its over. 'nuff said. ;)
The tie is taken off the bag and you are dumped out onto the floor as a pile of (your) pieces and equipment. Within the tent you see a single Lizardman mixing what looks to be potions.
"Sure, take one." One of the riders tosses you (Taran) one of their over-and-under crossbows. We're not from Tally, we're just mercenaries! For all I care they can rot!" says one of the riders before they fly away.
"No, the Baron just hires them occasionally." She tries to ignore the mercenary's comments. "We are going to see the Baron right now. Walk with me and we will talk please," offers Cambrea, finishing putting on her clothes. Other guards on the roof and some on the next level below pass you but none attempt to stop you.
"Who's Shipy?"
Cambrea continues walking down the stairs to the next level and then down a long hallway. "This is the city of Tally, which is under siege. The Lizardmen of Red Water Bay are attempting to drive us out of our homeland and they doing a very good job of it under Ralathor's leadership. Tally will fall within two days if we do not stop Ralathor. With Tally as his stronghold we will never retake these lands without direct intervention from Khazan. And that will never happen." The elf leads you into a large meeting room filled with a dozen high ranking military officers. What do you do next?
Even given the barrage of questions, the little old woman attempts to answer them point by point. Looking at Jax first, "If I were in league with Ralathor I would have already had you killed in this time line, thus ending your attempts to fix the situation. As of now, other things are more important to Ralathor, like his ongoing war."
"It was another time and place, Jax," he says, shrugging his shoulders.
She continues to Jax, "Tosal is out of the loop and the map is gone. I can fix neither. If you do what I ask, your brother will be fine."
Miss Toubow looks at Desuma. "The thing you do not understand is Ralathor with his time storm has been adjusting time to suit himself. If an event fails, he just replays it with all past knowledge. With the Earth Dragon Helm you can side-step time itself. Ralathor may be aware of our plan, but you are not the only group involved. I believe Ralathor warned Khazan in an attempt to keep the Death Goddess un-involved. Time is best explained as a deck of cards, the person dealing it can reshuffle and deal it again. Until you can locate the Earth Dragon Helm you will remain inside the deck."
"Gotta pee," says the Hobbit, who then wanders off alone.
Taran has learned a bit of diplomacy, since he has often found himself a stranger in a strange land, and an orc in a non-orc land. Sometimes more butt-kissing and less racist orc-bull-headedness goes a long way! (That's the hope, anyway.) See his first adventure as a lizard-man on the Island of Zweetz.... Hey, how's that for an excuse? Sorry if Taran's not orcish enough, but I've never RP'd an orc before Taran so I'm making this up as I go along. At least Taran doesn't mouth off like Jax, much anyway! <thwaps Jax>
On the way to the meeting room, Taran holsters his old crossbow and admires the over-and-under crossbow the mercenary rider gave him. He tests the spring action and looks forward to using it in battle. He answers Cambrea on the way, "Shipy's our group jester." Taran bares his tusks in a big grin and says nothing else during their walk. He watches and listens how Domina interacts with Cambrea, and tries to map out the levels and hallways of the castle in his mind.
Hopefully this won't require a SR on INT, heh heh.
Once in the meeting room and in the presence of the gathered military officers, Taran defers their introduction to Cambrea, or Domina. "Never liked face-to-face diplomacy much," Taran thinks to himself, gripping his new weapon.
Jax emits a loud grunt, truly Orc-like in character, resonance, attack and decay. Oother would have been proud. In the most Orcish mannerism he can conjure, he bellows, "Then I hope you have a plan to get us into Khazan, for I am not slogging through that swamp again to do your dirty work, old woman!" Jax harumphs. Toubow's left eye twinkles at him annoyingly, so he crosses his arms, and scowls at Martek, like only an Orc can.
"What you lookin' at?" Jax snorts most Orcishly. "All you gonna carry into Khazan is that toothpick and some dinky rope?"
Character note: I always thought Jax's foul temperament was tempered somewhat by his transformation due to Arnn-Gaxx (last of the Haroouugh, which I've envisioned as being a peaceful and tele/empathic race. See Agents of Lerotra'hh) and again through the Faerie Lilac's humbling influence (see Goblins in the Mist) Still, to those true-believers out there, I hope you will find Jax's true Orcish nature to shine on occasion!
With a nervous giggle, "Uhh...What's up doc?"
Domina, while still mentally gagging at all the butt-kissing, realises it has been quite effective. After all, if Taran had acted in a typical orcish manner, Cambrea might have told the raven riders to leave him and herself behind for brunch with the lizardmen.
Domina also has failed to consider the fact that she was only freed from the netherhells to roam this plane of exsistence a relatively brief time ago. What does she realy know of orcs, or any other kindred for that matter? Why, people even seem to think her own sweet self cruel, instead of simply pragmatic (Elf---the other white meat!).
She will listen intently to what this council has to say about the situation before putting in her own 2 cents,and will sit near Taran, so she can kick him discretely if he seems to be dozing off.
The elf Cambrea leads you into a large meeting room filled with a dozen high ranking military officers. The officers part as Cambrea leads you to the back of the room where a very impressive but strange looking creature in full armor is seated on a throne. Standing he would be at least eight feet tall.
"This is Taran and Domina, Baron Volroth. I would have brought more of Wizard Grutoss's henchmen, but that damn Martek led the others away and Ralathor took one of them. It still worked in our favor. Ralathor is currently at his tent nearby, of this I am certain. Otherwise Jack de Crampon would not have been taken there," explains the elf.
"Yes, I suppose so, Cambrea. As always you do excellent work." Holding up one hand the Baron casts a spell. A small glowing orb appears above his hand. Inside the orb you see Jax, Desuma, and Martek standing together. You don't see Shipy. The image fades quickly. "They are with Madame Toubow. Send the Raven Riders to retrieve them if they attempt to leave Temple Isle."
"Yes Baron. It will be done." Turning to you Cambrea says, "Remain here, I'll be right back." She then leaves the room.
Looking at both of you the Baron says, "The fate of Tally and thousands of innocent lives rests in your hands orcish/demonish. I have the means with which to send you into Ralathor's camp if you are willing to kill him." Officers within the room talk among themselves in hushed whispers upon hearing the Baron's statement. "You of course have many choices. If you fail to help us you will be among the dead when Tally falls, which will be within two days or less."
What do you say to the Baron?
Putting his potion ingredients down, Ralathor approaches you as you reform back into your witty, yet sarcastic self---an event which takes you less than a minute to perform, and maybe a minute more to put your clothes and equipment back on. Nothing was taken from you, not even your weapon, upon which your bony fingers now rest.
"Ah, Jack de Crampon... the classical actor and well known balladeer from Khazan. Your interpretation of Phillipon Shrugg's "Outhouse Travesty" was very... uh, unique. I am the one and only Shaman Ralathor. I suppose you have come here to act out some dramatic event?" Ralathor approaches you, stopping less than a foot in front of you.
"Tell me Jack: why, pray tell, have you come here? I don't remember requesting your services, and few balladeers are ever hired out here. Are you just slumming it?" You do believe you could draw your weapon and possibly kill Ralathor before he could react if you felt the urge to do so.
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