Hello hello hello
Welcome to another installment of Ink n Bones: Game Day. We will be jumping back into our game Lament of Serverance and starting in earnest. Before we can do so however let's discuss a few things. Namely, schedule, I'm currently producing bi weekly content, this will change to a weekly AP on Fridays and bi weekly commentary on Mondays as normal. I am still working some format kinks out and appreciate any feedback you have.
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Last Time
You can check out our character creation here.
Having played through a bit of backstory between Kal and Atliss.I had to make a decision do we keep with that theme or move directly into the story? Normally I like to build out a ton of backstory but I'd like to discover Kal along side you. So here are somethings we can infer starting out. Kal might have a chip on his shoulder. We also got a back story NPC Old Man Worthy. I've no idea where the story will take us but let's touch base with our Oracle and get started.
Adventure Setup
First let's roll up a scene setup
Event focus; d100 -> [93] -> npc positive
Meaning; 2d100 -> [71, 78] -> trick masses
So our Event focus is an NPC Positive the Meaning is trick masses? We are going to interpret this but in order to do that I want to learn a bit more about this NPC. Let's go to the UNE supplement!
2d100 -> [55, 90] -> Elderly Charmer
Their motivation? 2d100 -> [66, 40] -> Persecute The Church
Oh boy 🤣 the dice are in kahoots today it seems. So an Elderly Charmer with a motive to Persecute the Church.Something good happened that furthers his motives to Persecute the Church. I'm 🤔 thinking it may not have been him who tricked the masses. From here on I'll be using the Mythic Variations Fate Check ✅ as a stand in for the fate chart oracle. Makes things a bit snappier. Here are the basics you need to know.
Roll 3d10. 2d10 for your Fate die and 1d10 for your Chaos die. Adding modifiers for odds. Our Fate die must roll above an 11 for our answer to be yes.
Was there something revealed about the church? Odds: Likely CF3 2d10+2+2 -> [5, 7]+2+2 -> Yess!!
d10 -> [3] -> Exceptional
Oh boy so we have to talk a little bit more about the CF here. When we roll within the Range of the CF which is ≤ 3 some things happen based on our Fate Die.
If Fate Die are:
* Odd|Exceptional answer.
* Even|Random Event
* Doubles|Exceptional and Random
Which for us this means this is an exceptional yes.
What was revealed? Detail check CF3 2d10+2 -> [10, 7]+2 -> Calm
Action meaning: 2d100 -> [65, 16] -> Inquire Intrigues
Descriptor: 2d100 -> [6, 97] -> awkwardly warm
Alrighty so our Scene Setup is Something was revealed about the church which furthers our elderly charmers motive of persecution of said church. Calm we will interpret as it being the neutrality of the church. Their truce is a falsehood of some kind. Oh I got it. This NPC has found evidence that the church uses some level of compulsion or suggestion to keep the peace amongst their followers. It is stripping people of their will and is used to extract secrets and information from the laymen and nobles alike. Pretty broad strokes, but I think this is a solid set up. Kal is newly out to adventure the world, so we'll say he is tasked with finding the one responsible for spreading these 'rumors' about mind control we'll see if there is any merit to it. This all reminds me of two very specific characters.
So we will name this NPC Mindsrel Titanshard, why? We will be setting this in the starting city of Sericun Petrum. A city built in conjunction with my main group using Sorry Did You Say Street Magic and Ex Novo.(some of my favorite worldbuilding games) This description simply fits the narrative we have setup about Mindsrel, a bard who spends his days in front of the sanctuary orating on the folly of belief in the gods or the church. Having Contextualized everything we can jump into the narrative.
Seri
Kal made his way into the city of Sericum Petrum with his Scalehound, Atliss in tow. The city wasn't overly big but it was pretty old, and densely populated. Atliss slipped a large tusk beneath Kal's arm and stayed tight at his heel. He'd been instructed to make his way to The Sanctuary, to begin his rite, the Lorn March, a pilgrimage out of the glade. Kalzussis was no stranger to the near by cities and towns of Cham Roulan and the southern Cimdel forest. He'd traveled to the Shimmering Lake and explored the grounds of the World Spire. He was a pain. The Lorn was sacred in its way, to leave the Glade possibly never to return, not to Kal. There was a pride about him that made it impossible for him not to want to make his mark. Here he was the youngest of his brood to venture on this path. He grinned and took in the sights.
He was to meet with Rongar Primem the Keeper, at The Sanctuary. Impossible to miss, that's what Old man Worthy told him any way. A large ornate building with white smoke coming from the courtyard, smells of mint and vetiver. Can't follow the smoke, follow the smell. Granted even with clear instructions the amount of people made it hard to navigate to The Sanctuary, the street rats and urchins were out en mass looking to beg, or snatch what coin they could. Easily dissuaded with a bit of guile from Kal. Using Atliss as a scapegoat, offering rides instead of coin in exchange for a guide. Which made his journey that much longer. He didn't mind though, the children were knowledgeable in ways adults weren't. Pointing out the different landmarks of the city, places that had the best scraps, the nicest person in town Lady Shiversalt, and the spookiest people in Seri the Acolytes of Ego. Two of the small gaggle that'd been following him for the better part of the last two hours bolted when they saw the Acolytes.
"Rongar the Golden? That's what people call him?" Kal asked the little hobgoblin boy. The boy put out his hand wordlessly. Kal rolled his eyes and chuckled as he reached back into his pouch and pulled out a bit of cheese and a few more river stones. This had been their routine the past two hours, every few questions he needed to pay up. The kid drove a hard bargain.
He bit into the river stone and then handed the cheese to Atliss as he pet him aimlessly.
"Aye, that's what the Acolytes have started to call him. He's different, still nice, but different." He shrugged and looked up pulling at Kal's tunic. "That's him."
At the gates to The Sanctuary stood two men some three to four decades his senior having what looked to be an argument.
"YOU WILL NOT SILENCE ME RONGAR! THE PEOPLE WILL KNOW. YOU ARE NO MORE A SAINT THAN I! YOU COWARD!" The flamboyantly dressed half elf spat at the mans feet. The man Kal assumed to be Rongar, an almond skinned Elderly Half- Orc, with golden eyes and golden hair, wisp of silvery white at his temples. The creases in his cheeks and around the eyes said he was used to laughing. Now he just looked tired.
"Mindsrel, you gossip. I have done you the kindness these few years of allowing you to continue your slander before The Sanctuary. We welcome all under the simple request they stay any grudges they may have at these gates."
"YOU-” Rongar's hand snapped up, his eyes cold.
“I was not finished," he gave a nod to some of the fellowship as they passed through the gate his eyes warm once again, "As I was saying, you can continue to spew your maladies as much as you like Howler5. The issue comes when it begins to stir commotion within these walls. There was yet another report of one of your ilk, defacing altars with false and inadequate sacrament." Rongar's face knotted “and in my opinion simply filthy.”
“Simply means others are starting to learn the truth, Keeper, or should I start calling you The Golden One?" Said the half-elf.
Rongar sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "Go Howler, there is no telling what might happen."
"That a threat?"
"A warning that you have enemies and I am but an old fool who thinks you a friend, Howler Mindsrel. I can’t keep them from you if you press me so."
Mindsrel scoffed and gave Rongar another once over.
“Nor I yours from you…friend.” He gave a flourishing bow and walked away. He paused for a second and locked eyes with Kalzussis and gave a tip of his hat before he disappeared into the crowd. Kal turned to speak to the children who'd 'guided' him.only to see them pattering off after the Howler, who could be heard lifting into song. He chuckled to himself
“Forest breeze upon you, I take it you are Rongar the Keeper of the Sanctuary? I am Kalzussis, child of Elava.” Kal said as he stepped forward to greet Rongar. Rongar stood with rubbing his temples visibly calming himself. He squinted and smiled exhaustedly.
“Yes, I received a letter of your arrival a few days ago. Come, come there is much to discuss. Your companion is welcome within as well,” he said smiling at Atliss. Rongar bowed slightly in the Elava tradition of greeting and motioned for them to enter.
Kalzussis made note of the of grey clad figures walking briskly with buckets down one hall.
“Apologies for the commotion. There have been a number of problems with the Howler outside our gates as of late.” There came a shout from the hall Kal made note of. He could see Rongars almond cheeks flush. “Do pardon any distractions as best you can, we are currently in the process of clean up. Other wise your welcome would have been a proper Elav one.”
Kal shook his head. He was never one for ceremony. “Im here to start my March tis all. A welcome is unnecessary.” he said
“You could have gone any where to do that young Elav.” Rongar said
“Are not all Lorn Marches started hear at The Sanctuary?” Kal asked.
“Ah a misconception, at some point during your march you are to stop here to pay respects.”
“Respects?” He asked a bit confused
Rongar chuckled a bit, “They did mention you weren't exactly an Elav devout. Yes your respects to Eas-Azï that your passage and path be clear, where you step again you do so anew. Along thier travels many of the Elava happen to stop here often.”
Kal nodded taking it in. He'd heard of plenty of his clan leave the glade to settle else where but he found it hard to believe they would settle in a city. They rounded a corner and down two flights of stairs before the floor plan opened up once again into another large courtyard. This one about half the size in length but what it lacked in length it made up for in depth. There were a full eight stories beneath him. He smiled at the massive Cimdel Iiappa,The Living Tree in the common tongue, the smell, like a taste of home.
“That's a-” Kalzussis started.
“An Iiappa,” Rongar finished, “that it is. As it grows members of your Clan and others like the followers of Itar. Come to prune it's branches. The wood is then used to fashion remedies and cure ailments. Your clan specifically is the only clan granted the privilege of fashioning weapons from this particular Tree. That is if she deems it so.”
Kalzussis looked at Rongar with a raised eyebrow. “Is this where respects are paid as well?”
“No, the altar is through that arch there. He pointed at the second floor.” He then pointed at the fourth floor. “Floors four through seven are lodging. Floor eight is kitchen and mess. The third floor is for those who have been accepted and only those who have been accepted.” Rongar said
“Itano said he had no doubts about you. So you can relax.”
Kal's smile faded, ‘Itano had been the one to write the letter?’ He thought
He turned to Rongar holding his head a bit higher. “Direbone knows little about me. He may have raised me but he was no father.” Kal said.
Rongar gave a gentle smile. The same kind of smile Old Man Worthy would give him when he would run out to his neck of the woods, that same patient knowing smile. “Yes,he said something to that effect. You have no need to be on guard here. Your march is your own young Elav.” Rongar said placing a hand on his shoulder.
“When you've finished meet me in the upper courtyard. There is one other thing we ought to discuss. Or more accurately a request I have of you.”
‘Right, of course that bastard wouldn't claim me.’ Kal nodded to shake the thought from his head. He gave a smile that didn't touch his eyes.
He made his way down the stairs. He was met by two Elav sisters, they didn't speak but held their hands out stretched. Kal sighed, slowly disarming himself, he handed over his weapons and pack. As the sisters disappeared to put away his things. He stood in silence the sound of their feet echoed back to him.
On either side of the arch way leading to the court yard was a basin. He knew the drill, and begrudgingly stripped to wash. The mud and dirt from travel dropped into the cracks and crevices of the stonework at his feet. Down the slope and to the basin of the Iiappa in the courtyard.
As he finished there stood a sister silent as always. She held for him a simple brown Sarang and Iiappa oil. He wrapped the Sarang about his person and anointed himself from head to toe. Before heading to the chamber of Azï.
The door was heavy, cut from an ancient Kest Tree. The polished pink amber in the middle of the door glowed with an inner fire. Inside was a small room, floor covered in Ash, in the center an altar made of intricately woven branches. Whether they were stone or live was hard to tell. Upon it sat a single burning flower, untouched by the heat it bloomed with the seasons.
Kalzussis began his sacrament. Walking about the altar he sang and marched until the stone walls resonated and the ash danced and shook with the rhythm. He sang and marched until all he could feel was the heat, the flames of rebirth.
He flopped on to the ground the single flower nearly a bonfire the ash covered nearly ever inch of him. After he took a second to calm his pounding heart he went to the altar. Place his hands in the fire and began to bathe in the flames. Licking away the oil, and sweat, the ash left him feeling invigorated as he left the small chamber.
The sisters met him at the archway to the Iiappa. The one on his left gave him a small wooden knife.
"Is this to prune the tree?" He asked confused. Only to be met with silence as they stepped aside and beckoned him to proceed.
In front of the Iiappa was a bench woven from its roots and flowers. Fairybugs lit the branches and leaves with a warm amber glow. Not knowing what to do next Kal sat down on the bench. The heaviness of the courtyard finally pressed upon him, the silence deafening. Just as it became overwhelming he heard her.
"Now, isn't that curious. You are no Elav." The voice cooed into his mind.
He could feel the Iiappa pressing further and deeper into his skull. He pushed back to no avail.
"Now, child don't be stubborn. This goes easier if you aren't." The voice cooed again.
He could feel its presence like vines slowly constricting his conscious. His vision blurred as pain seared through him.
"You are not Elav by blood, nor by choice it seems, but rather circumstance. You carry yourself with their self reliance but none of their joy. How curious a specimen. There is much you wish to prove." it said.
The pain subsided and his vision clarified. "Will you grant me the strength to do so?" Kal asked.
"Power? Power is not what we grant. But for you we grant the closest thing to power.”
From the top branches unfurled a gnarled cracked limb. Crystallized sap sparkled from the wounds.
"Take from me and find yourself the Ravens Slumber. The Master of the Hunt will fashion it into it's appropriate form."
Kal took the wooden blade and touched it to the limb.
“The Master of the Hunt?” He asked.
Again, silence. That's what he hated most, the blind belief, the blind faith he needed to have. He cursed beneath his breath and started to carved into the limb.
I think this is a great spot to end on. I was not expecting some of the rolls that came up at all. I was half expecting Kal to just get the option to fashion a new weapon but that goes to show you just how fickle the dice can be.
But thanks again as always for being part of this journey. Excited to see how the next session plays out. What do you all think of the Howler and the Keeper? Drop your response in the comments!
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