Lady Dandy's Dilemma

You make it halfway through Epiphany Square before the screaming begins in earnest. A crowd had gathered at a safe distance around the gallery as the battle against the Mask of the Cybelle and its aged Jezebel of a host played out, just grist for the jaded mill. There were few gasps as the Mask came off to reveal an elderly woman beaten to a boneless sack. It was some time later the bodies inside Made were tallied, cut to the quick and then to the dead by Devil's Coral. The moral calculus ensued, the sum of the involuntarily departed was found to be sufficient for a public display of alarm and outrage.

Surprisingly quick to respond, Lord Choke's men come onto the scene. The injured poor who could not escape are piled onto horse-drawn wagon for 'treatment' at the Free Clinic the good doctor operates out of the Shambles. Those of means seek treatment with private physicians. The remainder find the relative peace of a death in the gutter.

Two bailiffs stop you before you can exit the square. The one who speaks is unfailingly polite. His questioning focuses on the nature of the wounds received during the incident and inquiries into the possibility that some might have died from coronary arrest, stroke, or similar indirect means. The Bailiff is missing half the hair on his head. A surgical scar runs from the top of crown to between his eyes. This is known on the street as Lord Choke's Reprimand, a permanent disciplinary measure used on those in the doctor's employ that take bribes, extort money, or otherwise abuse their position.

The interview is, thankfully, over quickly. The wind changes, now blowing from the south out of the Snake States, unusually warm and scented with delirium and plague. The League goes on. Young Lady Dandy gravitates to Odanais's orbit, perhaps not surprising, seeing he is youthful himself, charming, and not espousing violent class struggle. Without thinking, she takes his hand in hers.

"May... may I ask you a question" says Lark to Christabel "You're an immortal, aren't you? Not like... the rest of us?"

OOC: what route are you using to get Lark back home to the Sway of Medallion? The the most direct way would be to take the String St. Bridge over to Gog-Magog Station, cross over to Chain St., catch the trolley that runs intermittently, if at all, to Five Fathoms Market, which will be deserted except for criminal business, or to backtrack the way you came, back through the library district and then through the Stagger, which is also a hive of scum and villainy, though one you're very familiar with, which includes territory under the protection, such as it is, of Lord Bum.

Mallus wrote:

"May... may I ask you a question" says Lark to Christabel "You're an immortal, aren't you? Not like... the rest of us?"

"All can be immortal in service of Most Glorious Pig-God," Paetros interjects cheerfully. "May involve consumption of Holy Pig Urine but," he see-saws one hand in the air, "Details of miracle not yet determined."

He responds to her look of horror with a shrug and a mutter of something in his own barbaric tongue.

The pig-spirit skips gleefully ahead of him, occasionally manifesting a gauzy pair of wings when it bounds particularly high.

Mallus wrote:

OOC: what route are you using to get Lark back home to the Sway of Medallion? The the most direct way would be to take the String St. Bridge over to Gog-Magog Station, cross over to Chain St., catch the trolley that runs intermittently, if at all, to Five Fathoms Market, which will be deserted except for criminal business, or to backtrack the way you came, back through the library district and then through the Stagger, which is also a hive of scum and villainy, though one you're very familiar with, which includes territory under the protection, such as it is, of Lord Bum.

Paetros, being a stranger to these environs, is all for taking the most direct route possible.

Mallus wrote:

"May... may I ask you a question" says Lark to Christabel "You're an immortal, aren't you? Not like... the rest of us?"

OOC: We still have no internet at home, so Amber doesn't have the time to get on the forums here. I can post from my office, so if you want I can NPC Christabel when needed. In this case, I presume Christabel would simply answer in the affirmative and not add anything more.

Quote :

OOC: what route are you using to get Lark back home to the Sway of Medallion? The most direct way would be to take the String St. Bridge over to Gog-Magog Station, cross over to Chain St., catch the trolley that runs intermittently, if at all, to Five Fathoms Market, which will be deserted except for criminal business, or to backtrack the way you came, back through the library district and then through the Stagger, which is also a hive of scum and villainy, though one you're very familiar with, which includes territory under the protection, such as it is, of Lord Bum.

We'll take the most direct route.

Rolzup wrote:

"All can be immortal in...

"Who would want that?" says Lark softly.

Quote :

"May involve consumption of Holy Pig Urine but," he see-saws one hand in the air, "Details of miracle not yet determined."

"So your god offers... transformation?" She doesn't appear to be revolted by the revolting specifics of the ritual.

Quote :

I presume Christabel would simply answer in the affirmative and not add anything more.

Lark nods at first, then looks disappointed when the deva fails to offer more details. As you cross the String St. Bridge, Christabel spots a group of Night-Fishers on the riverbank below. They're small, perhaps children or gnomes. They cast homemade nets into the Ossuary Flow, in hopes of catching one of God's Bones with the Marrow inside still fresh after the long journey out of the Interior.

Young Lady Dandy shows no interest in the river or the passing streets. She keeps shifting her gaze between Pætros and his spirit-pig. You make a left on Quicksilver's Run, no more than an alley, really, then right onto the wide length of Chain St., beneath which lies the channel of hydrangyrum and the Adamant Chain that pulls the train cars of the Gog-Magog Line.

You pick the first deserted trolley stop and wait. Though it's several hours before midnight, this neighborhood is as quiet as the Hereafter.

As if to do no more than pass the time, Larkspur Dandy begins to speak, reiterating what she said in the gallery. "Armand used to smoke opium from Syssiphoor. He said he'd quit, and he seemed so interested in fine wines of late. Or it could be gambling debts, though he was on a winning streak. I can see you can take care of yourselves, but be careful. Rumcastle is a dangerous place. You never know who's related to the Rum Bunch. Practically any thug could be one of his cousins."

Christabel and Pætros both note something odd in Larkspur's voice, as if a resurgent opium habit or being shaken down by blood relatives were two of the more hopeful possibilities.

A near-empty trolley pulled by the assorted and gainfully-employed dead, ranging in size from the a passel of child-sized goblins practically dangling from the harness to a ogre corpse taller than the car, rolls up. You step get on.

The ride is slow. A hour before midnight you get off at the edge of Five Fathoms Market, with the last of the legitimate crowds lighting off for home. You keep to the busier byways of the Market, passing row after row of half-full taverns.

"Lookit that, it's Artichoke's Arsehole's!" shouts a drunk goblin, sitting with half a dozen of his kind at a street-side table. "And Artichoke hisself! He's the one with a head like an egg and a face like a bum!" The goblins are all highly intoxicated. Their table is strewn with wine bottles, mostly cheap, but some of surprising quality.

"We don't need your help anymore! We got a new friend. A friend we can can count on inna fight". As you approach, you can see all the drunken goblins have cuts and bruises, some severe. Ones arm hangs useless at his side. "A friend who won't turn and stab us in the back!"

Apparently some of the Driftglass Society bear something of a grudge against the League for attacking Sidney Distaff on the docks, on the day of Treasure's Annunciation.

"Let's make a toast!". The goblins grab glasses, tankards, and skins, noisily agreeing. "Here's to... here's to... fuck you Artichoke! Fuck you and the fuckin' pig you suckle!" The goblins nearly choke with laughter.

"Here's to Sancerre!"

(feel free to interject stuff at any point in the above narrative -- also, sorry for the length. Bored at work, got carried away)

Mallus wrote:

"Here's to Sancerre!"

OOC: That name rings a bell, but I'm damned if I can recall why. Do any of the PCs know who that is, Scott?

shilsen wrote:

OOC: That name rings a bell, but I'm damned if I can recall why. Do any of the PCs know who that is, Scott?

OOC: He's a variation on a character I thought of playing, so I'm sure I mentioned the name at some point. Best to put that out of your mind...

IC: You can roll History or Streetwise.

Mallus wrote:

OOC: He's a variation on a character I thought of playing, so I'm sure I mentioned the name at some point. Best to put that out of your mind...

That must be it. And done.

Quote :

IC: You can roll History or Streetwise.

History - 25; Streetwise - 25. I am nothing if not consistent. Or something.

The member 'shilsen' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd20' : 15, 14

Mallus wrote:

"So your god offers... transformation?" She doesn't appear to be revolted by the revolting specifics of the ritual.

“Transformation basic aspect of all gods,” Pætros says soberly. “Transformation of bodies is metaphor; is transformation of souls that matter, that defines being god. How pig is do this, Pætros does not know. But if pig is true god – and Pætros knows is – then transform it will.” He shrugs. “Pætros will make investigate. Much work to be done if proper religion is to be born. Little to work with, but mighty theocracies built with less.”

Pætros sighs, tugging on his moustache. “Smell is problem for sure, though,” he admits.

Mallus wrote:

"Let's make a toast!". The goblins grab glasses, tankards, and skins, noisily agreeing. "Here's to... here's to... fuck you Artichoke! Fuck you and the fuckin' pig you suckle!" The goblins nearly choke with laughter.

"Here's to Sancerre!"

Pætros' face light up. "Infidels!" he cries happily. "Is great opportunity. Pig-god is wrathful," he decides, pushing past Artichoke and strising forward. The pig spirit falls into step at his side, somehow contriving to look menacing despite its stature. Pætros, intent upon those mocking his god, doesn't even notice.

"YOU!" Pætros booms, "CRY FORGIVENESS TO PIG-GOD, OR SHE DEVOUR YOUR SOULS AND SHIT THEM OUT!" He pauses. "IS NOT GOOD THING," he adds after a brief consideration.

OOC: Using Shroud of Awe, for an Intimidation check of 24. And a deeply impressive volume.

The member 'Rolzup' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd20' : 10

shilsen wrote:

History - 25; Streetwise - 25

Artichoke recalls a few local legends featuring an elven swordsman named Sancerre who led a band of what can best be described as 'dilettante vigilantes' in the Five Fathoms Market some 40 or 50 years ago. The stories describe Sancerre's band righting wrongs, protecting the weak, and occasionally robbing from the rich and redistributing to the poor. Despite his clear bourgeoisie roots, he sounds like someone Lizzie might get on with. Sancerre dies in several of tales, only to be reborn, or, in other versions, to have someone else take up this trademark mask, rapier, and battle cry.

Artichoke suddenly remembers Yatagan singing "The Ballad of Sancerre, Beware!" in the velvety bellow the Dragonborn calls a baritone.

Rolzup wrote:

“Transformation of bodies is metaphor; is transformation of souls that matter, that defines being god.

Larkspur sighs. "But she's a goddess, can't she change bodies as well?". There is almost a hint of pleading in her voice.

Rolzup wrote:

"YOU!" Pætros booms, "CRY FORGIVENESS TO PIG-GOD, OR SHE DEVOUR YOUR SOULS AND SHIT THEM OUT!"

The Porcophant's voice reverberates for blocks around. A few cheap windows shatter. Several dozen dreams curdle into nightmare. An age of unpleasant miracles has begun.

The mouthy goblin stands his ground, though just to be prudent his bladder releases, lightening his load considerably should the need to scamper away arise. The rest of the goblins shriek and stumble back. One has sense enough to pull the table to use as cover, sending bottles crashing to the ground.

The lone, standing, sodden goblin says a single word. "No".

Mallus wrote:

Larkspur sighs. "But she's a goddess, can't she change as well bodies?". There is almost a hint of pleading in her voice.

"Is possible," Pætros admits. "Transformation is metaphor, yes, but does not mean is not real." He grimaces. "Pætros does not yet know to speak so that pig-god can hear," he sighs. "Much to learn...."

Mallus wrote:

The lone, standing, sodden goblin says a single word. "No".

Pætros grins with unfeigned delight. "Is good," he says, advancing on the goblin, "You have spine; not like friends. "Can do interesting things with spine. Have just come from art gallery, so Pætros has many ideas."

He stops inches away from the man, and the smile evaporates. "Do you fear pig-god, little man? Or do you long for her, to know glory of divine pig filling empty places in soul? Can you give you cause to fear, if like. Or can show path to glory and salvation. Is your choice."

OOC: Insight is a mere 19.

The member 'Rolzup' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd20' : 3

Mallus wrote:

Larkspur sighs. "But she's a goddess, can't she change as well bodies?". There is almost a hint of pleading in her voice.

"There may be some occult ritual that could grant such a desire," says Odanais in a softer tone, drawing her away from the others by their joined hands. "But it is a serious matter that you speak of, certainly not a thing to be taken lightly. If you feel that you can confide in me the nature of your dilemma, Larkspur, I promise I will do my best to pursue a solution."

Flashback

Rolzup wrote:

"Transformation is metaphor, yes, but does not mean is not real."

"That's... comforting to know" says Larkspur. "Perhaps I can attend one of your services? When are they usually held?"

Rolzup wrote:

"Can do interesting things with spine. Have just come from art gallery, so Pætros has many ideas."

OOC:

Present

Rolzup wrote:

"Do you fear pig-god, little man?"

"Yes."

Rolzup wrote:

"Or do you long for her, to know glory of divine pig filling empty places in soul?"

"I... I'm not sure."

Rolzup wrote:

"Is your choice."

"I... I'd... prefer not to choose" squeaks the brave little goblin.

Rolzup wrote:

OOC: Insight is a mere 19.

OOC: he's terrified, but also drunk, not yet alone, and apparently a strident member of the Driftglass Society. Combined that's enough to keep him standing his ground, albeit in a puddle of his own urine.

Flashback

gridley wrote:

"If you feel that you can confide in me the nature of your dilemma, Larkspur, I promise I will do my best to pursue a solution."

Young Lady Dandy looks into Odanais's eyes. She hesitates a long minute before replying. "It would be nice if I felt I could confide in you. This is a... a very private matter. Maybe someday." She smiles sadly, then adds "It would would be nice if we lived in a world where a tiger could change its claws into fingers fit for piano keys. It's just something my mother used to say. She says that really happens at the border with the Interior."

Present

Larkspur again grasps Odanais' hand as Pætros unleashes his menacing brand of evangelism on the drunk goblin. The coffee notes in Lady Dandy's perfume suddenly give way to an intensely floral bloom. For a moment Odanais feels slightly dizzy.

"Please don't let him hurt the little thing. There's been too much bloodshed tonight."

(so much for the Unities of Time and Place...)

Mallus wrote:

Young Lady Dandy looks into Odanais's eyes. She hesitates a long minute before replying. "It would be nice if I felt I could confide in you. This is a... a very private matter. Maybe someday." She smiles sadly, then adds "It would would be nice if we lived in a world where a tiger could change its claws into fingers fit for piano keys. It's just something my mother used to say. She says that really happens at the border with the Interior."

"I have no doubt," says Odanais. "In fact, I myself, have been such a tiger. Only a few weeks ago, I lived in a terrible, tragic world, under the harsh persecution of vile, evil men. But through a powerful ritual, I left that world behind and came to yours, a world still dark at times, but nowhere near as bleak as that one I escaped."

Odanais pauses, taking both her hands in his. "I have faith that in this brighter world, we shall find a way to overcome your problems."

Mallus wrote:

Larkspur again grasps Odanais' hand as Pætros unleashes his menacing brand of evangelism on the drunk goblin. The coffee notes in Lady Dandy's perfume suddenly give way to an intensely floral bloom. For a moment Odanais feels slightly dizzy.

"Please don't let him hurt the little thing. There's been too much bloodshed tonight."

"Indeed," says Odanais, nodding. "Though our spirits be fiery, Pætros, let us not speak harsh words to our friends here."

Odanais steps forward to speak to the goblins, making particular eye contact with the bold one. "Friends, we too are excited about Sancerre's recent crusade against the forces of oppression. He seems to be a great man, worthy of much respect, and I for one quite look forward to meeting him. We remain, as always, great supporters of the wise, hard-working Goblin people and should you or Sancerre ever require our meager assistance, we will be glad to lend a hand. For now, though, we have some attrocious business to discuss amongst ourselves and you clearly have more drinking and carousing to do. So let us each to our own pursuits. Hopefully, we'll find ourselves at a tavern together sometime, so that we may share this camaraderie again. Good night, friends."

Bluff check: 32 (or if you feel that's diplomacy: 30)

The member 'gridley' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'd20' : 14

Mallus wrote:

"Lookit that, it's Artichoke's Arsehole's!" shouts a drunk goblin, sitting with half a dozen of his kind at a street-side table. "And Artichoke hisself! He's the one with a head like an egg and a face like a bum!" The goblins are all highly intoxicated. Their table is strewn with wine bottles, mostly cheap, but some of surprising quality.

...

"Let's make a toast!". The goblins grab glasses, tankards, and skins, noisily agreeing. "Here's to... here's to... fuck you Artichoke! Fuck you and the fuckin' pig you suckle!" The goblins nearly choke with laughter.

"Here's to Sancerre!"

Artichoke's face, already fairly florid, reddens drastically at the goblins' words. With his lack of hair, that means everyone can follow the flush all the way down to his throat, leaving him looking a lot more like a tomato than the plant that is his namesake.

Before he can formulate a response, however, both Pætros and Odanais take a hand, so Artichoke remains silent, slowly calming down from his initial irritation. He's partly distracted by watching the other two "negotiating" with the goblins in very divergent ways, and partly by wondering who the Sancerre that is supposedly helping the goblins is. This brooks investigation, he thinks. Just in case someone decides that coming after us gets them in better with the Driftglass Society.

OOC:

I just cobbled together an interactive map of the Port. If you click on a neighborhood, you'll get a closeup of it, including street names (if any). A second click will likely be required to see it full scale.

http://dhost.info/theport/

Scott, you'll have to let me know where your new streets and bridges are, so I can put them on the map.

If anyone has streets or parks that they'd like to name, just let me know and I'll put them in. Only the Stagger and Rumcastle really have full street names and I pretty much just threw in, so feel free to change them if you wish.

mallus wrote:

"I... I'd... prefer not to choose" squeaks the brave little goblin.

gridley wrote:

"...Hopefully, we'll find ourselves at a tavern together sometime, so that we may share this camaraderie again. Good night, friends."

Pætros shoots a sidelong glance at Odanais and his smile sharpens as he leans over the goblin. "No need choose now," he says cheerfully, straightening up, "Pig is patient god. But consider, do. Church can always use man like youself, with courage of own convictions."

Clapping the fellow on the back, he turns and marches back to the others. "Will fit in fine," he mutters to Artichoke as he passes, "Already smells like pig."

Rolzup wrote:

gridley wrote:

OOC:

I just cobbled together an interactive map of the Port. If you click on a neighborhood, you'll get a closeup of it, including street names (if any). A second click will likely be required to see it full scale.http://dhost.info/theport/

OOC:That's some damned fine work, that is. But where's Gin Street? There must be a Gin Street, surely.

I shall make it so. Would it be too ludicrous to have it intersect with Tonic Avenue? And thanks!

gridley wrote:

I shall make it so. Would it be too ludicrous to have it intersect with Tonic Avenue? And thanks!

Considering some of the underlying concepts for the Port, it would probably make sense that when Gin Street was being constructed, it wasn't supposed to meet up with Tonic Avenue. But when it was completed it did. Nobody's quite sure why.

gridley wrote:

Bluff check: 32 (or if you feel that's diplomacy: 30)

OOC: Bluff is fine. I assume Onanais II is usually being insincere.

The goblin smiles weakly at Odanais's many, soothing, and eminently convincing words, of which he probably caught no more than half. "Sure, sure, we can all be friends, the Ars... Artichoke Gang, Sancerre, and the Driftglass Society!" The goblin's grovelling reflex kicks in, all its courage leaked out into the puddle before it. "We buy you a drink!" The goblin begins searching the ground for scattered coins.

Rolzup wrote:

"Church can always use man like yourself, with courage of own convictions."

"That's right, that's right. I'm full of conviction!" stammers the goblin as it raises a waves a handful of coppers wet with piss. "I donate whole thing to pig... tomorrow!"

Christabel sees something out of the corner of her eye; what looks like two patches of shadow dropping behind the far end of the roof of the building across the street. In a moment they're gone.

Mallus wrote:

Christabel sees something out of the corner of her eye; what looks like two patches of shadow dropping behind the far end of the roof of the building across the street. In a moment they're gone.

OOC: You know, Scott, just because WotC puts out the assassin class specially for subscribers doesn't mean you need to use it instantly!