The 110th year of the second Ravensblood dynasty
The party is preparing for their audience with the governor.
Quimarel decides she should bring some sort of gift or tribute, and reflecting on what little she knows of the governor’s tastes [Knowledge(local): 8] decides to just bring him some of the Kech emeralds. The tiny infodump that Knowledge check got her consisted entirely of:
- Bertrand Stenholt, Lord Noroiras, is in charge of the town and surrounding countryside by order of Autarch Adamantia I Ravensblood.
- There’s no Lady Noroiras (at least, not since his mother gave up the title)
- He’s never visited the Squirting Squid.
This is enough, however, for Quimarel to include Makpov in this venture as her “sexy bodyguard”.
Tamarie: If you need me, I’m outside writing a blood note.
Quimarel: WHOSE BLOOD? WHERE DID YOU GET THE BLOOD?
Tamarie: Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about it. But I’m ready.
[At this point, the game is derailed for several minutes by the players talking about “Welcome to Night Vale”, which Tamarie’s player has recently listened to.]
They are led to speak to Lord Noroiras. Guards shepherd them through the outer walls, through a nice fancy garden --
Tamarie OOC: Through the walls?
GM: Through a gate in the wall.
Quimarel OOC: Oh, I was imagining just Kitty-Pryde-ing in -- “That was a power I didn’t know I had!”
Tamarie OOC: Welcome to Night Vale…
-- and into the governor’s villa, where they are led to a moderately fancy audience chamber.
Quimarel: Ah, this is moderately fancy.
GM: Well, he’s a lord, but his lands consist of pretty much this little town and some outlying farms, and it’s not exactly an old family.
Lord Noroiras looks down on them from… not exactly a throne, but a nice chair on a raised dais. He’s a fairly young human -- late 20s, early 30s -- with expensive-looking clothing and a goatee. There is brief confusion among the players about him being human, but they are reminded that, in-character, they would know that Noroiras’s status as a Capran protectorate comes with a governor from a noble Capran family, all of whom are human. The audience proceeds:
Lord Noroiras: Madame Smith, what can I help you with?
Quimarel: I’ve come to inquire about this new curfew that you’ve enacted in the town.
Lord: Ah, yes. Based on my perfect wisdom.
[suppressed laughter from the out-of-character peanut gallery]
Quimarel: Yes. Unfortunately, as I do not share your perfect wisdom, I was hoping you could tell me the cause behind it. Surely, with your perfect wisdom, you must have had numerous reasons to enact a curfew.
Lord: I did.
[long pause, as Quimarel waits to see if he is going to elaborate on that][laughter from the peanut gallery]
Quimarel OOC: We stare at each other for ten minutes. “Well, that’s all fine.”
Lord: As you have noticed, we have had a great deal of crime during the night lately.
Quimarel: Little bit.
Lord: And it occurred to me that if all the people and valuables were safely inside during the night, it would be harder for criminals to do crime to them.
[Makpov attempts to wave seductively -- he rolls an 8, and the Lord is unimpressed.]
Quimarel, quietly: What?
Quimarel, normal speaking voice: What kind of crime was going on?
Lord: Oh, there were thefts, and assaults, and… oh, I don’t know. The captain of the guard told me all about it. It was quite a mess.
Quimarel: Yes, I remember hearing something about the Intelligence Corps.
Lord: Yes -- there was a, a, theft most foul. Of some sort.
Quimarel: And for that to happen while the Intelligence Corps was there --
Lord: Right. And did you notice that it happened during the night?
Quimarel: I did. And you’re entirely correct about crime being more prevalent -- I mean, just the other day, I myself made a citizen’s arrest.
Makpov, whispering to Quimarel: What if, instead of putting curfew on the night, he just got rid of the night?
Quimarel OOC: How crazy does he seem?
GM: Not that crazy; he’s arrogant and kind of clueless, not mentally unstable.
Quimarel OOC: All right, I can work with that.
Quimarel: Yes, I made a citizen’s arrest. I encountered a man… stealing.
Lord. The horror. Was it during the night?
Quimarel, dramatically: No. It was during the day.
Lord: My word.
Quimarel: Exactly.
Lord: What about implementing a curfew during the day as well?
Quimarel: I think it would be very difficult. As it is, the businesses are struggling. When people can’t move around at night, they can’t do their business; this is a town that thrives in the dark.
Lord: That sounds… unsavory.
Quimarel: Have you seen the town, sir?
Lord: Lots of mud huts and little goblins, right?
Quimarel: They like the dark.
Lord: Well, we’re bringing the light of reason and civilization. The light of culture and justice.
Quimarel: Plenty of culture can take place in the dark, or at least in dimmed light.
Lord: What sort of business are you in -- I’ve heard that you hire out maidservants, or something similar?
Quimarel: Along those lines. We provide various entertainment services for travellers.
[Makpov winks and wags his tail.]
Lord: Like juggling.
Quimarel: Sometimes.
Lord: My word. And you can’t do this during the day?
Quimarel: Well, by the time most people are through with their daily activity and looking for some entertainment, sundown has already arrived.
[Tamarie’s player makes an off-color comment about juggling balls at night]
Lord: Perhaps we should put forth an initiative encouraging people to rise earlier to complete their daily business.
Quimarel: We could try, but you know how people are. They’re very set in their ways; it’s difficult to uproot an entire culture like that. Also, if they arise earlier, there will be no light for them to do their business by.
Lord: Well… not that early. Look, it may be difficult for you Northern types to uproot an entire culture and bring it to the light of reason and civilization, but the enlightened humans of the South have all been educated in the finest institutions.
[As the above was said, the table gradually collapsed into laughter again -- it is possible that colonialism is inherently ridiculous.]
[Makpov makes another attempt to seductively wink at Lord Noroiras, with not much more success]
Lord: So as you can see, in our perfect wisdom, we have brought the light of culture and reason to these heathen Northern lands.
Quimarel: You keep saying “heathen”...
Lord: Not in the sense that I disagree with their religious practices -- it’s more of a heathen aesthetic. They just kind of look heathen.
[Tamarie’s player is offended on behalf of her character’s culture]
Quimarel: I agree that this town could use a little bit more culture. And to this end, I would love to have the workers at my, ah, place of business perform for the community. Unfortunately, as you know, the best time to do that is in the evening, when everyone is prepared to relax and thoroughly enjoy such a display of culture.
Lord: Perhaps we should declare some sort of resting period in the middle of the day for cultural purposes.
Quimarel: This is getting complicated.
Lord: You think that, because you lack my perfect wisdom.
Quimarel: It’s entirely possible.
Lord: Our audience is coming to a close; I have other appointments. However, you have made some good points. [Diplomacy: 24] So, in my perfect but nevertheless mutable wisdom, I will discuss with my cabinet the idea of perhaps moving the curfew to later in the evening. Perhaps we could standardize some height of the moon when everyone has to go inside… though it’s easier to do sundown.
Quimarel: Perhaps. Also, I know that you in your perfect wisdom do not often spend time with the less cultured “heathens”. I’m sure their, um, babble must seem very boring to you --
Lord: While there are many schools of thought that say a king should walk among his subjects, I was not educated in that school.
Quimarel: If you ever want to know how your subjects are likely respond to your perfect wisdom, I would be more than willing to offer my services. I am very well-versed in their behaviors and their patterns. I know how they think, and I am able to articulate it to you in a ways that might make more sense than their own… babble.
Lord: It is true that I often have difficulty understanding what the goblins are talking about.
Quimarel: They can be very difficult -- if you need a translator, I speak Goblin, as well as Gnoll, Halfling, Elvish, whatever you happen to need.
Lord: Does this help you with your maids-and-jugglers business?
Quimarel: It does.
Quimarel presents her gift, which Lord Noroiras appreciates, and is politely dismissed.
As Quimarel and Makpov were meeting with the Lord, Tamarie was leaving a “blood note” on the outer walls of the villa. When they go to collect their party member, they find the words “DEATH COMES IN DAYLIGHT” painted in blood. There is confusion, both in and out of character, as to where the blood came from.
Tamarie OOC: Don’t worry about it!It is apparently very neatly painted, though Quimarel deems the kerning to be “a little off”. Luckily, nobody noticed Tamarie doing it [Stealth: 21]. Tamarie suggests this should be the group’s slogan, which meets with blank stares.
Quimarel OOC: Not what you want to hear from your blood supplier!
There is a brief discussion on the previous plan to aerosolize Makpov’s hallucinogenic saliva, which the party deems “a side project”. Makpov is offended by this, as he claims to have already gathered five buckets of saliva due to frequent hydration. Quimarel suggests they store it in jars so it doesn’t dry up.
GM: Where are you keeping five buckets of saliva?It is decided that they will put it in some empty containers from the brothel’s small bar area, and store it in the cabinets with the other drinks, but clearly labelled “Hyena Spit: Do Not Drink”. A reference to “Arrested Development” follows.
Quimarel OOC: The usual place.
Tamarie OOC: With the blood.
Quimarel gets the group together to summarize what they know.
Quimarel: The dude is clueless, but he mentioned his advisors. [OOC] Who are his advisors?Quimarel happens to know [Knowledge(local): 18] that a few second and third children of minor noble houses also live in the governor’s villa -- people who have similar education, but are not going to inherit any lands -- and they may well serve as advisors. At this point, a random die roll [1 on a d10] determines that none of them have ever visited the Squirting Squid or met Quimarel. This is considered a dead end.
GM: Technically, he mentioned his cabinet. You don’t know that he wasn’t referring to furniture.
While Quimarel “does upkeep on the Squid”, which Makpov’s player says makes her think of Quimarel holding a squeegee and scrubbing a kraken, Tamarie takes some of the spit to her workshop to construct experiments. It is decided that the primary thing they need to learn is how far they can dilute the saliva before it stops working, in order to make best use of the supply Makpov has bottled. They also want to know if there’s some way to build a resistance to it.
Quimarel also takes some time to be a visible public figure. References to the standard procedure of handshakes and baby-kissing lead her to declare that she is “kissing hands and shaking babies”. This is not taken literally.
In her laboratory, Tamarie has decided that Step One of the saliva project is “mix it with some different things and see what happens.” This goes poorly [Craft(alchemy): 7], and Tamarie wastes a couple hours combining it with other substances more-or-less at random, learning nothing except that mixing hallucinogenic saliva with wood varnish has no effect. She decides to try again and take 20; it takes all day, but she finds a solution in which she can dilute the saliva, producing a liquid that works just as well and dries more slowly, as well as effectively doubling their supply.
In the Marketplace of Rats, Quimarel attempts to gauge public reaction to the curfew [Diplomacy: 13]. She encounters a lot of people who admit to finding it very inconvenient, but is not exactly fomenting rebellion. Eventually, the market clears out and the sun goes down. The party decide to stay in and not cause trouble tonight.
That evening, however, they have a visitor at the brothel. I gather some reference images for this unusual individual.
GM: Imagine this guy:
Tamarie OOC: Oh, no, he can’t come in.
GM: In these clothes:
[Makpov’s player starts laughing]
Ghoul: Excuse me.Quimarel knows, thanks to a natural 20 on a Knowledge(local) check, that the town of Mormanori is known for its high concentration of necromancers, which actually explains a lot about all of this. If Gurrigor is a practicing necromancer himself, that would definitely point to why he has significant-pause-hobbies that require him to be out and about at night.
Quimarel: Yes, sir, how can I help you?
Ghoul: I’m here on behalf of Ambassador Gurrigor.
[It has been mentioned before that Makpov is the “favored companion” of the ambassador from the independent town of Mormanori.]
Quimarel: Ah, yes, the ambassador. Do come in.
Ghoul: As you may be aware, there has recently been some sort of police-state, martial-law, curfew business.
Quimarel: Yes, I am aware.
Ghoul: Fortunately, since I am legally the indentured property of Tribe Tomb-Slime, it’s really inconvenient to arrest me. So I have come on behalf of Ambassador Gurrigor to try and negotiate some sort of arrangement, so he can continue to… visit his favorite companion.
Quimarel: Of course. What does the ambassador recommend?
Ghoul: The ambassador would like me to convince you to -- just prior to sundown each day -- send the gnoll over to the embassy to stay the night.
Quimarel: Every day?
Ghoul: Every day.
Quimarel: Well, as you know,we greatly appreciate the ambassador’s patronage. However, losing one of my finest workers for so long every day, especially with this curfew happening…
Ghoul: The problem is, most of the ambassador’s… hobbies… require him to be out during the night. And now that that is not feasible without being viewed as flouting the laws of another town, he finds himself with a great deal of spare time.
She negotiates with the ghoul, and they agree that Makpov will spend two out of every three nights with the ambassador, for a fairly steep price. Before the ghoul leaves, Quimarel asks if he would like anything while he is here, and he walks off with some rotting dire-rat meat from the pantry. He says it is no substitute for human flesh, but Quimarel (taking this completely in stride) says that, tragically, such things are hard to come by here. The ghoul agrees that good human flesh is extremely expensive, and he couldn’t expect her to carry it just for a handful of gourmands like himself.
Half an hour later, the ghoul returns, and says that the terms are acceptable, provided that Makpov wears a certain outfit when visiting. Quimarel and Makpov want to see the outfit first -- it turns out to be a strategically-cut funeral shroud.
Quimarel OOC, laughing: Why have we not had a brothel in previous games?They accept these terms, and the ghoul leaves.
No comments:
Post a Comment