Fetzen

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr barely had enough time to raise his hands as a protective barrier in front of his face before the blast hit them all. He was partly thrown over the table, partly rolling himself across it in an attempt to build some distance even as disaster already was in progress. The result was a bleeding nose or at least that was what he could diagnose himself given the lack of time -- there was probably more he couldn't feel yet. And of course he picked up plenty of weeks, if not even months old dirt from other people's shoes as he hit the ground hard.

Great! He had hardly been given the opportunity to get rid of demonfolk blood splattered over his chest and now he was already struck by bloody scraps of intestines again! That was not to mention a few pieces of broken glass from the many bottles that had also suffered. Had the greatest pirate off all time's stare just been way too intense and energetic or had that really been a boob bomb giving everybody goose bumps ? This tavern was a damn booby trap! The sound of more footsteps came closer and a distinct and no less eerie glow could already been seen reflecting slightly from where the floor was actually polished, so quick action was in dire need.

Where had his trusty family heirloom gone ? It was quite the heavy thing, but the explosion had displaced it considerably still. Fyr was on the verge of launching himself towards it, then felt a foreign hand touching his shoulder. He heard Arthur's voice over the chaos around them, some words he couldn't understand at least verbally. Yet the unfamiliar warmth beneath his nose decayed, the bleeding was no more and so some of the other things he hadn't even been aware of yet. A very short appreciative nod was all Fyr could return before the other man's attention was drawn elsewhere again though.

So now to retrieve and use a proper weapon, finally! Only now Fyr's vision skimmed across the remainer of the room: This was not a slaughterhouse, but an extreme caricature of such! He rubbed the axe's handle against the nearest piece of halfway clean cloth he could find. It looked like some now dead man's clothes, but he needed a firm grip not weakened by blood acting as a lubricant. Five hostiles were there, three acting as backup while two apparently thought nobody would stumble across the idea that they might have more than a dagger each at their disposal.

No, certainly not after this overture! It would be them who'd be cleaved in two, not even more innocent patrons!

Attack roll

1d20+1 Roll => 3

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr felt a big stone rolling off his heart when his exlanation of how things happened apparently was accepted. Fighting against all of those simutalenously ? Would definitely not have been easy to say the very least! He wasn't so sure though about whether challening the thug's traning scheme had been such a good idea because now they had an open invitation to make him their new training supervisor. Dealing with these thugs for a longer term was not exactly the prospect Fyr had been looking out for.

Aside from that though, this Oasis and its town actually started to look better in his eyes than before. Dal and Ashe made a quite good job at entertaining people and he could see and hear coins being tossed towards them. Maybe the greatest pirate of all times was the greatest entertainer of all times instead, but didn't want to admit it ? Fyr made a quick mental note about using this as a means to tease the man when needed, then opted to choose his drink: The first bottle looked as if containing either very fluid honey or fermented camel pee if that was a thing. The second bottle was a massive flask made out of intransparent glass, its contents unknown until poured. The third one had just been put onto the stove so to make its contents vent steam. Some sort of tea, perhaps ?

"I... take the second one. I like things that look as dark and abysmal as my heart!" he tried to make a joke to reinvigorate himself.

And what kind of liquor came out of that black hole of a bottle! The barmaid had barely taken off the cork when the air already seemed to be replaced by something tormenting and flammable. What was this ? Pure alcohol mixed with fresh tar from the pits or had the inhabitants of this desert figured out something even more radical ? Yet now there he was, surrounded by thugs and with at least half of them grinning as they eagerly expected their newcomer to start drinking what probably was both harmless and a significant achievement in terms of destillery once one managed to get past its revolting stage.

Fyr took the first gulp and it felt like lava flowing down his esophagus. The thugs were cheering while he thought that his vision had just became slightly blurry. And... wait... what was that ? As Fyr shook his head in a futile attempt to get rid of the drink's initial side effects on the unaccustomed, he inevitably got the rest of the counter into his view again. Was there really a naked woman standing around or had his mind started to fail ? It was at this point when Fyr actually felt thankful for the thugs being there for some of them shared his own, slightly bewildered expression in spite of having made a different choice of drink.

So this was real!

"Hey you!" Fyr's voice was loud enough to be picked up easily and the horizontally arranged trunk that was his muscle-laden arm pointing at the woman should be seen easily enough as well. In theory, that was! "Could you be a bit less daring, perhaps ?" That was not a question, more of a demand.

Fyr blinked several times, but the slightly blurry vision didn't go away. Still he had the gut feeling that something else was going on. Had the thugs cheated him by making him drink a poison or the like ?

Perception roll

Fetzen Request: [1d20] Roll: [12] Result: 12

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

"How can you even think about this not being an accident ?"

Fyr had trouble holding back the disdain he almost instantly felt for what he saw. This king of gangs, they only rarely occured where he came from yet here they had had to run into one of them right away. Curse this bad luck!

"First of all, it was your friend who challenged me for a round of arm wrestling and not the other way round, and he had plenty of opportunity to look at whom he was dealing with. Second, I think we all agree that any participant in arm wrestling is supposed to deliver as much strength as is necessary in order to defeat his opponent, right ? And last but not least it's a matter of fact that one can only exert as much force on someone's arm as said arm is able to resist, any more than that and the arm starts dropping to the table and the game is over. So..."

Fyr sighed slightly before coming to what he hoped to be the ultimate conclusion:

"... in essence, your friend had enough strength to break his own bone. That can happen if one's focused too much on looking bulky and not doing what's needed for the rest of the body to catch up and deliver real strength."

At this point, he couldn't resist prodding the injured man gently with his index finger.

"Can be dangerous for the heart, too! Arm wrestling puts some serious stress on that as well. So maybe you should keep looking after him for a little longer ?"

He really would have liked to tell this gang leader exactly the same thing for the man seemed to fall into the very same category of 'it's all on the surface' in his eyes, but didn't dare to do so just in case that would enrage all of them.

"Is this explanation acceptable ? I haven't eaten well for weeks and am half starved, so I could really use the gold coins I've earned right now!"

Charisma roll

Fetzen Request: [1d20+2] Roll: [20] Result: 22

The Mystery (WolfLover + Fetzen)

Valentin could feel both the officer's and Amara's eyes rest on him briefly, too briefly for him to get behind the reason for that, but also briefly enough for him not to bother with that awkwardness any further once it had ended.

"Once very two weeks. This seemingly rather relaxed schedule has been chosen because we got two important things to consider here: First of all you might end up in a quite remote region where distances a long and poopulation is sparse, and secondly every time you make contact with us in order to report back, we all run the risk of you being followed and tracked by other persons we are competing with so to speak."

Valentin turned his head to the side to toss a glance at Amara, wondering what she thought about that. He himself was very blunt about that soon enough: "So I hope you can fight well."

"Like said, don't expect any significant reinforcements from our side. We need for all of this to stay under cover."

"So can we leave now ?" Frankly speaking, Valentin had started to become bored by this all too formal conversation. They had the parchments and they had the instructions, so what else required them to stay here any longer ?

"Yes. I do not have anything more to add unless you have any further questions ?"

"I do not. You, Amara ?" As he spoke, Valentin already lifted himself off the chair and took the liberty to have a brief walk through the officer's room towards the window into the courtyard. Soldiers training could still be seen down below -- good thing he didn't have to endure that. With one ear he still listened to whatever exchange of words Amara and the officer might have.

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr

Fyr did not exactly feel well as he listened to Lapis' proposal. On one hand he knew that they just had to come to some sort of agreement after the sheer amount of hospitality the woman had already given them, but on the other hand he didn't like the word 'loot'. Just at this point had he or Ashe pointed out that they were some sort of scavenging adventurers digging through people's still warm corpses in order to pick up their former property ? Or was this all Dalious' fault ? Fyr had no trouble imagining the pirate telling stories about both his own greatness and that of being a freelancing enterpreneur of the very special kind.

"I will be happy to share whatever kind of coin I will make on our ways with you, knowing that I have to redeem myself for your services offered." Fyr replied after a brief moment of thinking, hoping that this was the kind of answer that was both honest and abstract enough not to raise some crude expectations he didn't really like. Sitting on the chair was seemed to be relatively close to the brink of collapse, Fyr watched how Ashe and Dalious had already gone much further than just enjoying their first drink like he did.

Having some shadow shining onto one's scalp was a nice thing after having spent days openly exposed on a camel. Speaking of the latter, Fyr had to remind himself about asking for the coins he had earned when winning Ashe's bet. One first step towards paying Lapis! He looked forward to having a bath that would wash away what bloody remainders of demonfolk still hung on to either his skin or his clothes and maybe there'd even be a trustworthy blacksmith around in this settlement he could ask for a wheatstone for his trusty axe...

Halfway into his ale though, Fyr's relaxation was disturbed by the floor vibrating beneath the steps of a large male approaching him. One of the thugs he had seen right when entering the main hall it seemed and the individual spoke up to him right away: "Hey! You look like someone who could outdo all the petty competition here! Want to fight me ?"

Fyr dropped his ale back on the table and looked at the male in an irritated manner. "Fight ? Here ? Why should I be that dumb ?"

He earned a burst of laughter from both the male and the other thugs at the counter who had heard him as well. "Oh! Our man from the north apparently doesn't know what we mean when we say 'fight' here!" Fyr's conversational partner subsequently made a gesture imitating the typical moves involved when arm wrestling and he finally understood.

"Oh... Well, if you want! What's the stake ?"

"Two. Real gold!"

The other thugs at the counter had gotten moving towards another table that had been vacant so far. They started cleaning it from the remains of a previous and apparently quite lavish meal, but they did it so hastily that it earned them a quite sceptical look and other signs of profound disapproval from the barmaiden. Fyr was gestured towards said table then and took a seat there, facing his opponent.

With the thugs' friends surrounding the table and watching, there was little too see for the rest of the tavern. The excited cheers could be easily heard though as the duel dragged on and on. Would Fyr win or would his lose the coin he had earned from Ashe's bet again right away ?

Roll

Fetzen Request: [1d20+2] Roll: [20] Result: 22
--> success

The cheering and shouting was drowned out by a bursting scream all of a sudden as something important gave way. Fyr himself could only watch in shock as all of the resistance his bulging arm had been facing vanished too quickly for him to reduce the amount of force exerted. The thug's hand slammed onto the table very hard as it was no longer experiencing proper support from the arm it belonged to and its owner was in obvious, great pain.

"That cheater! He must be a berserker... all on weird herbs and mushrooms! He broke my wrist!"

"You don't even have the slightest idea!" Fyr snapped back, raising from his chair in a near instant as he anticipated some sort of escalation. "You just lost! How could I have known you're weaker inside that you look outside ? Also it was you who challenged me and not the other way round!"

The small band of thugs became quite loud and agitated now, discussing about something like a 'code of honor' among them and that 'a bet was a bet'. And of course they looked at and inspected their companion's mishap with as much medical (in-)competence as they could muster. Fyr didn't even want to look at it, but found himself surprisingly alone now in spite of still standing so close to the scene. His eyes searched for Ashe, Dal and Lapis hoping that they could help him or the situation somehow.

The Five Senses - Second Arc (Accepting New Players!)

Týfurkh

Had it not been Tayla, Týfurkh might not have made the decision to risk personal contact with the food in fromt of him after the statement she had made. Since it was Tayla however he just had to take a sample himself in order to make sure it was really as bad as she claimed it was, because Tayla had already proven to be a person without even the slightest amount of respect or decency.

He reached for the knife -- or rather for the petty piece of sheet metal that was barely more sharp than, let's say, the piece of butter it was supposed to slice through --, and made the honest attempt to cut away a chunk of flesh small enough to fit into his mouth. It remained an attempt though as the dried flesh could hardly be impressed by a tool whose design had been watered down by excruciating security measures against the divergence, so in the end Týfurkh just used the fork to rip off a piece by means of sheer force.

And how certainly he soon wished he hadn't! He managed to stop himself saying this publically, but his facial expression made clear there probably was more water to be found in the desert sand than in this piece of charcoal hiding behind his closed lips now.

"I... will try some of the wine."

Quick! Before this piece of meat would balloon and get stuck in his mouth or even worse his throat forever! Týfurkh poured the red liquor into his wine glass rapidly and swallowed one large gulp without even really taking the time to taste properly, but that didn't stop the aftermath from impacting him. The man grimaced as if he had just swallowed a handful of raw pepper.

"I think they might refine the recipe and put more poison into it next time. Might make it more... how shall I say... enjoyable ?"

That evening was pretty much ruined. If it wasn't a problem with the cook but with food here in the divergence in general, Týfurkh knew they either had to get out or starve to death quickly. What hit him even more though was the thought that all of those living inside the divergence must already have grown accustomed to this sort of horrible food or otherwise they would not be here anymore.

Then, he turned his attention to Sil whose failed attempt to hit him with some mashed potatoes had not gone unnoticed.

"How about we just don't eat this food but cook our own ? The supply of bread, meat and wine might not be the most favorable here, but let's not forget that we brought some much more reliable sources of meat along ourselves!"

A sheepish grin appeared on Týfurkh's face and now he started looking at Chres' familiar, too.

"Personally I do enjoy raw meat as well, so we might even be able to bypass the entire process of cooking and thus deny the divergence any opportunity to mess things up again. Think about it... Ripping off some of those tasty, juicy wings and digging into that dilicious muscle! Or this well trained tongue! Peppered and salted by years of foul words spilling all over it! Delicious!"

Týfurkh raised himself from his chair and reached out across the table towards Sil in one quick move, trying to grab the familiar. Of course he had not the slightest intention to actually use Sil as a food source, but if Sil thought he could provoke him at any moment no matter how inappropriate, then he could have back some of the shock as well!

"You will make for one big, dilicious puddle, Sil!"

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

Fyr

It seemed that, in spite of what Fyr could only hope had already been the pirate's best efforts, Lapis and Arthur had not become fed up with their humble party quick enough to toss them out into the desert before reaching Zephyr. An interesting name that was by the way, having an ending very similar to his own name. And, looking at the architecture, Fyr also couldn't help but feel reminded about his own homeland even though the latter was thousands of miles away by now, probably.

Harsh, neverending winds ? Where he came from, this was an common challenge, too.
Lethal temperatures ? The cold could kill just as well as the heat, the primary difference was in the means necesary to protect against it.
The need to find water ? In theory, water was a quite ubiquitous resource in his homeland, but in practice this resource was often frozen rock solid and heating by means of firewood was a lot of effort. Finding a reliable, steady source of liquid, clean water was just as important for the foundation of a settlement there as it obviously was here in the desert.

So things really weren't so vastly different if one looked below the surface, Fyr thought. Of course the culture very much was as none of the carvings told him anything except that they looked odd and probably took some serious effort to make. So these were not some barbaric, nomadic tribes as some not so trustworthy figures claimed at times. Somewhere around the mental formation of the word 'barbaric' however, Fyr's stomach growled. It had done so for weeks of mushroom diet already, but now that some proper food was just a toss of a coin away the craving really surged. He needed meat, no matter what kind of meat but a lot of it. And he needed it now. But... but... he also knew he shouldn't even bother to check his his pockets for any coin for he knew just too perfectly there wasn't any. He was as broke as Dalious as this point, he just didn't say it as loudly.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Ashe. I just don't know how we're supposed to do that quickly." Somewhere else there was always something to do for an ad hoc mercenary, but here ? This place looked just too civilized or people were just way too good at hiding the evil boiling underneath. Fyr didn't follow Ashe as quickly however for she made a run for it just a tad too quickly for his mood. Weren't they supposed to, let's say, at least express some sort of gratitude ? Fyr made a quick gesture towards Ashe trying to indicating that he'd follow her soon, but not right away.

The Five Senses - Second Arc (Accepting New Players!)

Týfurkh

Týfurkh gave an appreciating nod towards Jen, then went to actually inspect the rooms they had been given as he shared little interest in listening to the ongoing banter between Karina, Chres, Tayla and Sil. In fact, he was quite happy to have some kind of reason to get out of there. The best way of not getting dragged into another weird... affair... was simply not to be present in the first place. Or at least so he hoped.

The good thing: The bed held and the soap wouldn't kill him. The bad thing: It still was an outstandingly backwards method of basic, everyday cleaning to use water and soap. Water and sound was so much better for a broad variety of items that weren't one's own skin and his armor could use some proper polishing at this point, too... On other hand maybe he should be surprised about Ru'Tev having buckets of water and soap in his manor in the first place: What if one stumbled over the piece of soap one had accidentally dropped to the ground, slipped, hit the wall and fell unconscious, dove into bucket of water head-first and ultimately drowned in there ? The divergence certainly made that a real possiblity, didn't it ?

This Lord had to be an absolute madman and so had to be his advisors. Settle down into what probably is the most hostile area to be found within who knows how many hundred miles to have the perfect containment for some special kind of prisoners, but at the same time not understanding how this containment works truly, and then not run this whole facility with as few people as reasonably possible while allowing everybody else to settle out of range, but drag a whole, large settlement into this mess ? Týfurkh could invision plenty of reason not to trust Lord Ru'Tev. Oh and then there was the morale aspect of imprisoning people in a dark, damp, magically infused catacomb forever. Maybe some of the inmates would have preferred death ? If something couldn't be contained by death, then it probably was so far out of any mortal's reach anyway that locking it away here didn't change much about that either.

Týfurkh was not in the mood for feasting. He had placed himself at one of the front ends of the table so not to take too much space away from anybody else and only piled up a not so large amount of food on his plate along with simple water. Could one even trust the wine here ? At least this was not a product that had to be destilled where, even under normal circumstances, a lot could go wrong if the one doing the job had no idea.

Kings and Killers: A Classical Fantasy Adventure (Chapter 1)

It seemed that Ash was sharing his own approach of not sharing Dalious' approach, Fyr noticed gladly as he got himself ready on the camel. Also a bit to his own surprise, the beast didn't buckle. It seemed to be strained quite a bit though because why else should it have felt the need to release the exquisite gases it had held in store for so long already just now ? They were moving forwards however, and the odour had been blown out backwards, so he was not affected by it really and left to enjoy the desert sun. He would have found it quite too hot under normal circumstances, but the many days below surface had taken its toll on pretty much everything -- including his muscles! That was to change quickly once he had enough access to real food instead of mushrooms, or at least so Fyr hoped.

"I'd say these are the 5 gold pieces most quickly earned in my life so far, Ash!" Fyr called back happily. "Or did you have any time limit in mind we need to go on before this challenge is completed ?" he double checked for any nasty backdoors she might have added to the bet silently. "Or does my current constitution not count really ?" Fyr laughed before looking back ahead again.

In front of them seemed to be nothing but sand, blue skies and a layer of fluctuating air stuck somewhere in between. No other caverns at least, it seemed. The worry was real as experience dictated that caves tended to come in clusters and why should the slavers have stopped with just one source of their preferred export item ? That was assuming this idiotic mushroom mining operation hadn't been just a coverup for something much more sinister he still didn't truly understand.

"So how long do you think it will take to get out of this place ?" he asked, not addressing anyone specifically.

Lunidio by Night (Martian & Fetzen)

Hadric had always enjoyed the night market for it has always appeared to be the kind of place where disharmony and struggle stayed outside, where people left their thoughts about the distant past and the far future behind in order to focus on the present, to banter or even just to talk to each other. Even for someone who considered himself to be a longer in comparison to many others, this kind of atmosphere below the pale moon's night had its own attractivity hard to find elsewhere.

Yet these days were gone. The sudden change in atmosphere across Lunidio clearly coincided with its new ruler's rise to power, but from a rather austere point of view, Hadric had difficulties blaming the prince for this all alone. Instead it seemed to be the people following him and his proclaimed intentions all too willingly. Didn't they think ? Had they just made their minds stop working ? It almost felt like a betrayal: Had all the calmness and happyness he had experienced on this market for many months prior been nothing but a facade, a thin outer crust hiding the ugly truth ?

Speaking of ugly, this late evening cleary fell into that category as well. Hadric had not come here with any intention to get involved into fighting, but lycanthropes could smell each other and the pack mentality had somehow taken over. He had become involved into the fighting too, throwing his not exactly humble self into the struggle. The rational part of his mind said no, but the social part said yes: What kind of fellow werewolf would he have been had he just kept to his own business and tried to ignore the mess around him ?

Hadric had been about to deliver a hook to the chin of a vampire he had not really seen before but who seemed to be just as eager as him to keep going when they both heard the sudden shout. Over all the turmoil, the words were difficult to pick out even with sensitive hearing, but the fragments that got through were enough to cast sufficient doubt on whether things should proceed as they were. The two combatants canceled their next moves and turned their heads to look at whom was shouting.

Another bloodsucker, Hadric thought. Great.

"Who's asking ?" the lycanthrope's dark voice hollered across the market. Now maybe this particular individual actually had some good intentions, but Hadric's expectations were not exactly high at this point. If only this pale individual would not actually start using his fancy sword, otherwise... things would probably escalate even more quickly than his boiling werewolf blood would have liked at this point.