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Alfred really ought to be in a similar state to a very severe hangover at this point; grumbling and semi- functional.

when you're hitting people, most of the time what makes them go away or give up is a wound nasty enough to make them think it's not worth it, they're not being paid enough for the amount of screaming involved. True fanatics, nothing short of being permanently and actually killed will be enough, on the other end of the scale even an easily healed gash or two should be enough to defeat and put to flight someone whose heart isn't in it.

He was hit badly enough to make most normal people give up. Being a nobleman and a knight (and a PC,) he didn't.

'If this is how you usually ask for a job, I'm not surprised you're rootless, you've got nothing to offer but mouthy ignorance.' the older Ikhrani priest says to Eliska, 'South is that way. Fight the Kardrens, join them after the fashion of your faithless kind, either way I see nothing positive in you.'

The impassivity of his face almost slips as he hears Rohal's statement about herbs, but he keeps it together.

((We have the threat of Northern knights rolling in as we head upwards, correct?))

Yes, but they're mainly a political threat- Catarin wanted you to go direct to Dedrick Lautern because she knows he'll treat the situation with the gravity it deserves, expects the rest of them to under-react, or worse over-react and go haring off piecemeal. Quite a few of them would actually agree with burning her at the stake.

I think you're almost all ready to move, actually? Crossbows looted, pies bought for the road, everythign tidied and ready to go?

Yes.

[Fast-forwards through comical scene involving Larric and his mule]

And, hmmmmm....

Eleventh Century Remnant wrote:Alfred really ought to be in a similar state to a very severe hangover at this point; grumbling and semi- functional.

when you're hitting people, most of the time what makes them go away or give up is a wound nasty enough to make them think it's not worth it, they're not being paid enough for the amount of screaming involved. True fanatics, nothing short of being permanently and actually killed will be enough, on the other end of the scale even an easily healed gash or two should be enough to defeat and put to flight someone whose heart isn't in it.

He was hit badly enough to make most normal people give up. Being a nobleman and a knight (and a PC,) he didn't.

An interesting reflection on how a wound-penalty system works differently from a hit point mechanic; it actually models this, rather than having you be just fine right up until the moment you fall over dead- it's easier to make the rational calculation that you should back out of a fight if you're operating under a penalty.

It may also, ironically, make combat more survivable, especially for NPCs...

I like it.

(OOC: I do, too. It'll take some time getting used to but I rather like it. In any case, Alfred is retroactively in basically a hangover state. He did mumble out his vote on taking the road, though.)

A couple minutes later ready to start the long walk down the road with the others, "The priest told me to fight the southerners, so I guess I am with you."

ECR can use his imagination for how the conversation broke off.

OOC:

For the record, Sorchus, I think Eliska is coming across as a bit more petulant and erratic, and considerably less adroit at manipulating and dealing with people, than you wanted her to be. You might want to tweak her portrayal.

Sir Radulf is a heavy man of medium height, short dark hair and full beard; first impressions are that the lords of the south wouldn't send a man overburdened by chivalry to burn innocents out of their homes, they'd send a man whose honour was loyalty, who would do as was asked of him without being burdened by inconvenient morals.

Second thing is that he at least has the courage of his convictions. He's not going to argue for his life, not going to offer ransom- speaks very little and that mostly snarled, looks with hate and contempt on most of you, refuses parole. He probably will try to escape at some point.

It's a dry, clear, cold day- not quite freezing but close. There are a few people to meet coming the other way on the track that joins Coroghan to the ancient flagstoned road from Caer Edric to Sheldayne; a couple from Sheldayne, who have decided life in the city (well,town) isn't for them- the place is overcrowded and stinks of fear. It was attacked, and badly; worse than that is the spectres in the mist, and on a semi- regular basis there is panic as the people think the Striking Phoenix is coming back for another swipe at them.

There are a pair of carters transporting long cut timber south from Qulan; according to them, the town itself is more or less organised, but there are increasing rumours and fears of things haunting the countryside, of strange glows by night and unnatural shadows by day. Caer Edric is held, by troops from Qulan, but they're under officered and even worse affected- the ones that seem to understand someone is waging psychological warfare against them are the jumpiest of all. They're not well behaved- even more thievish than most customs posts.

There have also been rumours and sightings of giant metal birds. Make of those what you will.

As you get to the paved road, Caer Edric is within the horizon- but not visible. There seems to be a bank of mist around it, and strange flickering lights in the cloud.

"From the sound of it, I for one don't want to be outside Caer Edric's walls after nightfall. Can we make it? The days are short..."

ECR Spoiler

With most of you on foot, two palfreys and a mule, speed is not your thing. Total distance from Coroghan to Qulan via the ford at Caer Edric is about twenty- five miles, most of it on the other side of the river- you should be clear of the Moshar and in open country by the time the sun goes down, if nothing goes wrong. Which the chances are high that it will. For most of you, you'd have to push painfully hard to reach Qulan in one stage- the mule isn't willing, I can tell you that much.

Feralgnoll, Spoiler

"It might be easier to keep an eye on our friend here if we spend the night in Caer Edric than in the open fields. What do you think?"

That last is directed at, more or less, all and sundry.

to all: "There is something unnatural about the clouds up ahead, water and air magic."

ECR Spoiler

"I think that would be the wise choice. I'd rather deal with scared men than whatever we might find in these wilds at night. However before we go in I saw we disguise our prisoners, make him look a bit less like a reward for the man who frees him. A gag, some dirt, and a good roughing up ought to be a start, maybe dressing him in some lesser clothes if anybody is willing to spare a change," says Bryan knowing that were he on the other side of this a noble being carried by this collection would look like a prime target for rescuing.

"I agree." He starts grabbing some dirt to start smearing on their prisoner.

I doubt dirt will keep anybody away.
Odour on the other hand may do, will the ladies present please turn around.....

OOC:

This is set in an age equivalent to the time when bathing was more or less a luxury. Magic will mean that the depletion of local supplies of firewood might not be as huge an issue (and may even have kept the larger bathhouses running) but the common man is dirty and smelly already. The terms Body Odor and Halitosis weren't even household words until Listerine and Lifebouy used them in advertising in the late 1920's. Thus simply by making him dirtier and less washed looking, and doing it convincingly, will make him look like any other common criminal being brought in for a fairly sever crime. Covering him in literal shit will not only make transporting him unbearable, but will also make him stand out because I doubt it's common practice to coat prisoners in bodily waste during transport.

IC:

"William, as much as we might desire taking extreme action against this man you're missing my point. We want to make him look common, to take that shine off of him so nobody thinks twice about who he is. Dirtying him up some and making sure he looks as haggard as your typical common man will help, gagging him and claiming he speaks blasphemy will help; going overboard and covering him in human filth will only invite questions or even have him lynched before we get to our destination. Besides, do you want to keep a close guard on something that smells that badly?" Says Bryan, his tone showing that he's not amused by Williams antics.

Looking to the others and finding that at least two of them agree he asks again, "Now, who has some peasant garb that might fit him suitably? I'd offer my own spare clothing, but even my traveling clothes have my insignia on them."

OOC

[shakes head, wonders how ECR is going to react to all this. Larric isn't really participating; I can only assume the conversation is taking place when we've stopped for a rest]

OOC:

I was assuming it happened after the point where Larric brought up getting into Caer Edric. Having this happen on a break also makes good sense.

You can overdo the monty python bit- just because someone isn't covered in shit doesn't mean they actually are royalty. Most urbanites usually collect nothing worse than wet feet in the course of a day, and while for anyone who does the outdoor thing, mud is essentially inevitable, that doesn't mean they end up worse off than the average modern hiker. Although with less resistant kit, true.

Dwarves don't wash, they decontaminate. Orcs genuinely don't care. Most humans who are trying to pretend to be civilised do have some care for their appearance- and arguably the harder the pretence the more care. The norse, for instance, washed once a week whether they needed it or not. Also, why was perfume invented? And how very long ago, yet? Just because it's infrastructurally impossible to keep most towns clean doesn't mean the people like it that way.

With a few alchemists and breeders of exotic plants about the place, too, colours can be as bright as you can afford; pale shades of yellow-orange, wide varieties of green, brown and black are essentially entry level, richer orange and yellow and pale blue and red are slightly more show-offy, stronger blues and reds are more expensive and pale purples start to become affordable, and there's a reason violet is the colour of royalty. Even when it could be made easily, they still leverage the association and charge you for it.

White is easily available to anyone with a strong enough stomach for the natural bleaching process- dyeing alone smells bad enough, and tanning worse.


Anyway,
Feralgnoll- yes. Kaelan- ew. Is no-one else worrying about the fact that that cloud doesn't look like it ought to be there?

OOC:

I was thinking too much about what my (limited) knowledge of the middle ages told me about hygiene standards when I proposed the idea. Of course I also forgot about how the nobility wasn't exactly clean either, and I also failed to factor in the existence of magic and advanced chemistry. Still the posts have been made at this stage so chalk it up to my character not exactly being in touch with the common man.

Sorry. Distracted by the Monty Python routine, so to speak. Larric is worrying a bit, not least about how Rohal knew in the first place... He'll ask.

"Hmmm, now that you mention it... you're right, that doesn't look normal. How did you know?"

Larric is not without his own extrasensory perceptions (sense of perception? No, not that good, surely not). Largely in hopes of keeping his attention focused firmly elsewhere in case William actually does drop his trousers, Larric attempts to lightly probe the cloud- see if there's anything he can recognize going on in there, structurally. He's looking for gradients in the jostling hordes of molecules, atypical layerings of heat and pressure- Insight and Air. Does it have a visible center, or a set of foci?

He's not going to go the extra mile for the information just yet, though- since the cloud isn't eating people and doesn't look like the Striking Phoenix's M.O., he's reasonably confident he'll get the chance to scry it out more effectively at closer range.

(OOC: It was dirt, not shit, that Alfred was smearing on him. Alfred would not deliberately smear shit on his own hands.)

He begins searching for things to make a gag with. His stuff won't do since it's kind of expensive and would give things away. Same with giving that guy his clothes.

Simon_Jester wrote: "Hmmm, now that you mention it... you're right, that doesn't look normal. How did you know?"

Rohal taps his nose, and says: "The air smells different. I cannot tell much more yet. I will be able to tell more when we are closer."

Turns and acknowledges the group with much trepidation: "For my personal safety and yours, I think you all should know. I am a shapeshifter. sometimes involuntary."

Now Larric's definitely nervous, but unsure what to say. He thinks for a moment, raises an eyebrow.

"Shapeshifter? ... How worried should I be?"