|
Post by vaxsgbstpachibgdk3 on Jan 21, 2011 23:19:37 GMT
Rywyn's eyes flared. He knew it was timeto leave. He'd played fair, he'd won. Leaving now would aggravate his opponent but was better than the alternative. ...especially against a man like this.
Yet a small voice was there, growing louder. He'd unnerved him. This mans pride was the weakness he'd been looking for. Money he could earn again, but a victory? That was priceless....especially against a man like this.
"If you're sure, deal."
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 21, 2011 23:22:56 GMT
The cards are dealt. Your hand is weak, a fifteen from nine and six.
His face is plain, his grin gone.
"I play until the end"
He places his cards face down again.
"I Win"
|
|
|
Post by vaxsgbstpachibgdk3 on Jan 21, 2011 23:26:52 GMT
Rywyn witheld his reaction the hand. Awkward. But manageable. He wished he could go second, gauge Miirik's hand from his play...this was not a hand he could try and bluff. Whatever he did, he would be called. He had no choice.
"Hit me."
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 21, 2011 23:28:38 GMT
A six is layed.
|
|
|
Post by vaxsgbstpachibgdk3 on Jan 21, 2011 23:30:17 GMT
Rywyn paused for a moment, allowed doubt to flash across his face...he wanted Miirik to see conflict in his eyes before he bet.
"All in."
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 21, 2011 23:33:53 GMT
He lays out his cards.
"TWENTY ONE, I WIN!"
Two aces are laid flat on the table. For a moment you think that the art work on it is running and smeared but, after a quick blink you realise you must be mistaken...
He stares at you hand put forward.
"Give it to me! ALL OF IT."
|
|
|
Post by vaxsgbstpachibgdk3 on Jan 21, 2011 23:44:45 GMT
Rywyn paused, his eyes focused on the card. He was sure he had seen something. And now that he thought about it more, he could swear there was a stain on Miirik's sleeve. This was tricky. Whether he was cheating or not, simply suggesting it would be enough to start a fight at this stage....and he knew who the guards would side with.
He leaned in, his body just over his pile and focused his gaze on the cards and sleeve.....
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 21, 2011 23:50:32 GMT
His sleeve is stained with a red fluid like blood, his confidence mighty and stallwart. Staring at his cards, it hits you. He as two aces, two ones, twelve or twenty two. He has lost.
Regardless he doesn't seem to think so, he stands demanding his reward. The mark on his sleeve becomes more prominent as he does so. A gash across his palm is staining his sleeve and is now seeping onto the table.
"Give me my reward, now!"
His eyes locked in a pale fury.
|
|
|
Post by vaxsgbstpachibgdk3 on Jan 22, 2011 0:03:52 GMT
"Miirik, I'm afraid you've lost sir." Rywyn reached out towards his opponents hand. "You played valiantly. The night has been excellent, the drink fine and the company hospitable. I'm grateful for the invitation."
He kept his other hand close to the table edge and his eyes locked on Miiriks.
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 22, 2011 0:16:23 GMT
Miirik's eyes widen, his fists clench and his breathing races.
"NO! BETRAYAL!"
He throws his cards at you, the blood seeping from his palm dashes across your face.
"I can't believe this!"
He stumbles backwards away from the table and into the shadows.
"We had an agreement..."
The darkness envelopes him, he mumbles and gibbers as he escapes from the table.
"I would never lose..."
His voice dissapears.
Before you is a scattered deck of cards, the nights stakes and the two jokers tossed to you by your opponent, both of them red and grimacing.
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 22, 2011 0:21:18 GMT
Waning 36; Autumn - COMPLETE
Miiriks never returned from the bestiary or to his post.
Reward: An illegal dragon bone deck of cards inscribed in the blood of devils. 50 gp from the ten players stakes. Miscellanious junk from their furious buy ins of which there is (of interest) several bottles of spirits equalling 15gp value.
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 22, 2011 0:22:19 GMT
And here is the rest of this.
Waxing 5; Winter – The bite begins. The wall shifts are reduced.
Waxing 12; Winter – A food delivery is late. The soldiers make do.
Waxing 20; Winter – The food arrives to the joy of the men. A small feast is held.
Waxing 37; Winter – Uxa disappears on patrol. Mass panic strikes the fort at his loss.
Solstice; Winter – The sharpest day strikes. Five men die from various temperature ailments on this day alone.
Waning 12; Winter – The towers become accessible again as snow is cleared.
Waning 26; Winter – Regular shipments resume and supply new life to the fort.
Waning 31; Winter – Uxa’s disappearance leads to a ceremonial funeral.
Waning 45; Winter – Winter’s end brings revelry.
Waxing 5; Spring – The three silver dragons remaining enter ceremonial mourning.
Waxing 14; Spring – Uxa returns seemingly from nowhere. He explains that he was trapped beyond the marsh whilst on patrol due to harsh weather. Many are glad he is alive.
Waxing 25; Spring – Alfrick travels to his fathers yearly aging ceremony to return in the summer. Gallen is given command.
Waxing 31; Spring – A drake escapes from the bestiary and is put down. Dinner is strangely tangy that night. Nobody asks.
Waxing 40; Spring – A small troupe arrives. They entertain all and bring interesting meads and, most importantly, women.
Waning 12; Spring – The troupe leaves. Many soldiers are sad.
Waning 30; Spring – Winter flowers emerge within the keeps grounds; a rare sign of life in this lonely frozen place.
Waxing 5; Summer – The temperature is now merely cold and there is much rejoicing.
Waning 12; Summer – Alfrick returns.
Waning 13; Summer – A frost bird arrives and nests atop the lodge. It’s brilliant blue feathers are a sight to behold.
Waning 30; Summer - A power stirs within Erugaar.
Waning 45; Summer – The frost bird leaves taking summer with it.
Waxing 15; Autumn – A shipment of beasts arrives, small in form but with wicked tusks. Gallen merely refers to them as “Advanced Manoeuvres practice”.
Waxing 30; Autumn – A full year almost completely encircles you. Alfrick gives you his commendations.
Waxing 42: Autumn – A year ago today you arrived.
|
|
|
Post by englishpetal on Jan 22, 2011 9:41:43 GMT
Solstice, Winter
Issaya shivered at the now not unusual cold. She was attending down in the infirmary, lending comfort and relief where she could to those who were not lasting through the cold as well as would be hoped. Most of her days when not training had been spent in this manner, but today was proving to be tougher than all previous days. Of the 18 men down here, 5 were particularly worrying today, having developed the blue coloured skin, memory loss and stumbling speech patterns she had seen particular to 3 others this winter – all of whom had not made it to the following day. She prayed to Tamara for the strength to help them feel no pain, and if they were to go, to make it swift and gentle on the poor souls enduring this suffering.
One of the men who was displaying these worrying signs, Rethios Kan, Issaya had struck up a rapport with over the time he had been unwell, and she made a special effort to visit every time she came in. He was an older man, gruff and bearded, with grey hair flecked with the remains of black, and blue eyes which had not lost their piercing gaze with age. Now however, his eyes seemed dulled and tired, as if their spark had been lost in the fight.
“How are you feeling today, Reth?” Issaya asked in a calm, friendly voice. “Well, you know. A little chilly, but who ain't in this place? You know what I could do with? I could really do with a nice warm bath, with a couple of pretty ladies to keep me company, and the sun beating down on my face, not a cloud in the sky and surrounded with flowers and grass, just like home.” Rethios seemed to drift into a dream, a slow smile crossing his pained face as he imagined his perfect day.
Issaya left him to his thoughts, developing thoughts of her own. Shortly after arriving, while exploring the grounds, Issaya had discovered a small patch of late flowers blooming in a covered alcove at the back of the keep. She had picked and dried these inside a book about the teachings of Tamara she had brought with her, as a reminder that although things may seem barren and unforgiving, flowers and life could still bloom here. Leaving the infirmary, she went to the truck at the base of her bed, pulled out the oft-read book, and removed the flowers from inside.
Turning to head back to the infirmary with her gift of flowers, Issaya nearly walked straight into Elania Rothen, one of the few female warriors in the keep, and someone who Issaya had become fast friends with. She was a few years older, and treated Issaya much like a little sister, being sometimes protective and teasing, but also someone she could talk to with any problem she had. Elania was muscular, tall, and had beaten many of the male soldiers in the keep during practice fights – much to their chagrin when it first happened. However, it wasn't as if she scorned all the men in favour of fighting. Many a soldier had been warmed in the middle of the night by Elania.
“Aw, are they for me? You shouldn't have.”
Issaya smiled. “No, they're for Rethios down in the infirmary.” Her smiled faded. “I'm not sure he's going to last the day, let alone the night. I just wanted to do something to make his last hours more enjoyable – no, not in that way!” She exclaimed as Elania wriggled her hips suggestively.
“Well, mind if I accompany you, fair maiden?”
Issaya and Elania made their way down to the infirmary, where Rathios was still lost in dreams of better times. The flowers were placed by the bedside, and the two women waited patiently for Rathios to notice them. As the afternoon wore on, it was clear that he was getting weaker and weaker, and more lost in his own mind. At last, just as the sun was setting, he seemed to momentarily regain his thoughts, and notice the flowers and the girls beside his bed. He smiled broadly, and fell still.
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 22, 2011 17:38:27 GMT
Resolution and update tonight.
|
|
|
Post by genericdragon on Jan 22, 2011 22:36:42 GMT
So two characters rolled natural ones on hit points. Craaap.
----
Waxing 42; Winter - COMPLETE
You travel back to the keep Erugaar carrying the cleric. Miligan left in the cave, too heavy for the fatigued orc to carry back.
Upon your arrival you get her sent to the infirmary. Alfrick greets you in the lodge.
"I see you are back, and I assume the perpetrator is dealt with."
Your exhausted silence tells your story for you.
"Go rest for now, keep those weapons and I'll file paperwork for promotions."
|
|