Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Alturiak 5 1373 - talk, talk, talk, talk
Eff it! We had several hours prior to the sacrifice for us to mill. I hate milling. I'd rather be in Xanathuria than mill. Babydoll wanted to tango with the Kuo-Toan monks, he did this for a bit, and we watch his first two fish fights and left during the third. By "We" I mean Celery and me.
I wanted to go up to the keyed portal room to check out the tribute, because I did not trust them to have given us something worthy, real, and not trapped. I could find no traps, and pulled everything out of the chests in doing so. It turns out to be a lot less than I had originally thought. Only about 100 pounds or so in the two chests. I mean, I saw two chests and figured it was like 400 pounds of stuff and things of a magical and valuable nature.
We got about 400 gems ranging in an estimated value of 9 to 130 GPs each. Wow, a big hall there, I'd say. There were three cameos with elf heads on them, which Desicrist says are from Myth Drannor (& I wonder how such was got). They are valued at about 10k each. That's a good start, but it's also a bad finish. Beside those there was like as many mithril coins as it would take to equal my weight, a couple wands, and a couple rods (the rods I've never heard of - some web spinning thing, and a portal finder - not to interesting, I'll bet).
Now getting up there took quite a bit of convincing on my part. Babydoll was so uninterested in checking the treasure that he went sparring, and Celery just went outside with Caulwen (& Nullum) and someone else, though I can not recall who it was (no one seems to fit). But they were the easy ones. I had to argue with some fish-folk to let us go, pulling out the "I understand not being allowed in the city unescorted just yet, but if we can't go outside then we amount to not much more than prisoners" line, which seems to have gotten a positive response. But then my group decided to convince me to go in and have some drinks with the Toan monks to celebrate some odd thing or another. I was out voted by everyone present so I went.
I have a general policy to have my decisions and make them too, but when the entire group is against me I'll do what they want (I recognize I'm not always right, but neither are they). So we went to have some fish drinks. We all forgot about the Heroes Feast cast by Desicrist (we are just such heroes that we forget we are most of the time - well, I am, and so is Desicrist and Bellumthain, and Celery too, and I'll even say Caulwen and Nullum, but the rigged jury is hung on the other two), so Caulwen did a bit of silent, motionless casting to detect for poison and found, just like the food, that the drinks were poison as well. Unfortunatly she did not know what type of poison, and not knowing led me to believe the incorrect.
I thought it was just another of those Batrachi spice things where everything they eat is poisonous to the rest of us. Turns out it was malicious. Some fish-folk just can not be trusted. But because we forgot about the spell, we kept trying to weasle out of drinking and toasting, or figure a way to drink some and cure the ills. Then Babydoll was kind enough to remind the group of our hero status for a limited time, and we drank with the fishes.
The 'honey' mead wasn't 3/4th bad, I'll have to say. The poison gave it a particular ... odd ... but good, taste. It's made from some fungus they have laying around down here. seems like everything is made from this or that fungus down here. I guess with all the damp the fungal growth just can't be helped.
After a couple pints, our 'friend' & 'ally', Joparg Bluplip, Grandmaster, came running in (it's really, increadibly funny to see a bipedal fish run) and asked us how we felt. The others, the monks, the ... 21st plane, I can't recall what they call their monks. Must be my 53 years catching up with me. But they kept looking at us, and seemed to be wondering, too, how we were doing. This was an obvious sign we should have been looking for. Maybe it was the two pints (remember, two pints to me is like eight pints to a big person - which everyone but Caulwen and Nullum are), but I was not paying to much attention (as usual). In some ways I think I'll never wise-up to the evil ways of some. I just want to have a good time and make good friends, and do fun stuff, and see fun things, and meet 'interesting' ladies of all sorts (though I have to say I find fish, and pigs, and dogs to contain a paucity of interest to me). But everyone else seems to want to rule and conquer and kill and dominate.
Imagine what the world would be like if hin and gnomes were in charge and responsible. We have some bad apples, sure, but only a rare few. Even those are nothing compared to the machinations of the big folk. maybe being big makes them think they are superior or something. Who knows? Lord Ao probably doesn't even. but I bet Yondolla does, that's why she made us. The world needed some good clean fun, some happy-hearted mischief, and some positively lightly endowed explorations.
Anyway, as you may be able to tell, I am down trodden by these events, and that which came to follow. I'll recover soon enough, I'm a hin after all, but for now I'm all about depression.
It turns out the fish-folk we were enjoying a good imbibe with were trying to poison us. Not just regular honey-&-butter spices, but full-on poison. Like some of the stuff I, ... well it is something called lich dust. And it has to be eaten, I think, to be effective. But because of our epic ode status it just added ad- OH! Yondolla! I just realized ... I ate a lich. Ewh! That's totally, positively, definely gross. I think I need to ... I don't know, maybe eat some black lotus root to get the lich parts out of me. Now I'm a demon-tainted, lich-imbibed, strongheart hin misplaced in the north of the Realms. I think I need to go home and rest this one out. I'm like the illithid of liches. Like a ghoul grave-robber robbing cradles to get the tastiest bits and softest parts. My guts are like mummy guts, all petrified and dry, but stuck inside me and still churning away at the dust mites falling into my grave. When I pass on, Brandobaris isn't even going to want to have anything to do with me. Maybe I can get Desicrist to cure me, or fix my spleen, or something. I feel sick. I need a good double breakfast to push this out.
Oh, a double wake-up. I miss those days. Big folk, even gnomes, don't know how to eat. They just eat for sustenance, not for good, pure, wholesome lust. Can you believe Desicrist actually wears a magic item which keeps him from 'having' to eat, ever. Caulwen does to, and apparently when Nullum is in his pouch he doesn't have to either. What the gods must have done to some races to make them the evil lot they are is beyond me. But to not want to eat, is just as bad, well almost as bad, as being a beholder (and lusting after everything). Like I said, I'm not to wise about people and the whys and what-fors as to their reasons for doing.
Joparg was pissed, and not drunk pissed, but mad pissed (and being a fish he redrinks his, and other's, piss on a constant basis, which compounds his pissed-ness and makes it even worse). If these fish-folk didn't have such wide mouths filled with such prodigeous teeth they would be funny-cute doing nearly everything they do. But the teeth kill it for everything which requires an open mouth (or doesn't require it but commonly results in it).
We left the messy monk hall, with apologies from Joparg. He stayed inside and began yelling at those who did the misdead of mispoisoning us. He said some tough stuff, and I though it was just a show, but the future told me I was yet again wrong. It's funny how hindsight only works in one 'direction'. I wonder what it's called when it goes the other way. The group talked, and I decided to be upset, so Mr. Bluplip was told we were going to the keyed portal room (he couldn't say no without making us prisoners, and that seems to be not a desire of his. He's almost a good-nice guy. Almost. The word is Drapood had his monks try to capture us and make us more than what we were to become to the assembly of Ramonos later in the day.
So, I went back, actually a bunch of us did, to the keyed portal room. Caulwen, Celery, Nullum, and (I think) Babyface went outside while I inventoried what we had been given. I seem to be the only one ever concerned with such things. It's not that I'm greedy or anything, I just have an organization to fund, a lot of mouths to feed, and not much in the way of income. So it's important. I mean, I'm not poor are anything (any hin with 1k GPs in his pocket is definetly not poor), but I have expensive needs, and tastes which cost quite the coin (women can be expensive).
Anyway, Cel-Cal-Nul-Bab whent to the surface (just a short ten foot jump from the room) to see the sky and breath the fresh air and, hopefully, see the sun (well Caulwen and Nullum were not to interested in seeing the sun), and they encountered some beast and it's hearder up there. Now that Sourface is gone life seems to be returning to the marsh. Desicrist told us (or maybe Belli did, sometimes I just can't keep straight which one told what to whom, when and how which was told to those who listened) there are marsh drovers here who, usually, heard these beasts called cattle-bleepus, which have some milk the drovers make into death-cheese (called so because ye ald bleepus just look at a folk and a folk becomes a firm form).
Bleepus be had, one drover kill another and take a bleepus away to a home. Homeward bleepus bleeps but not looks at our homely heroes who fly at night up top above, all capped and caped with a bat by the moon. No drover see them, though them see twin drovers. One twin say, and the other say back. One twin say, and the other hit back. One twin a folk, the other is mad. Mad twin make folk twin a sad twin to behold. All for the sake of a bleepus to hold. And moon bat swings & sings to them pests. So pests make him full and happy to nest.
Back in the fishery we found ourself attending the sacrificial ceremony, as prommised by his grand excellentness who fell to us twice. Joparg made a mad rousing speak (well, maybe fishy-folk find it firming, for I found it flat). He went on with his newly made-up tale of the wonders of us heroes, and convinced his folk we had good hearts to their cause (even though they ironically want to conquer, convert & destroy our peoples). The one fish-guy we 'spared' to spread the sorrowfull word of our affairs was drowned in a pool made by the actuated arm and hand of a full-sized statue of ald Ramonos as he was.
We were then blessed with the presence of Ramonos as he is, who scooped up that fresh fillet and chomp, chomp, chomped it down. Gross fish bits (and some not so small) got flung about and the fold got a nice rain of former friend. Blood & guts, blood & guts, I say sometimes not enough. Next it was time for a further sacrifice (and I feared for our lives at this junction), as just called for by Jopargus. This was an amazing sight to have seen. Dozens of fish-folk-future-fillets volunteered their fins for a fiendish finish as afore mentioned provided to the firstly, freshly flooded 'fortunate' fish-man. Fecund must be these fish-folk, for they form quite a feast for their fearsome, false forefather.
Then Jopargus Bluplipius proferred a pile of pious pieces of piscine 'pork' to their present deific pestulance. 'Ramonos' made with glee an extended meal of Drapood's clutch of fish-folk fist-fighters, and again portions of these got tossed back and to, and peppered the audience in the rows. Luckily we, the heroes, were high and back far enough away to avoid the distressing, disembowled detritus. Desicrist did hide his displeased coutanance in disgust and dispair. And he's the one who wanted to see all this.
Ramonos that is made a speach too, and seemed, to my discerning eye, a little displeased at the presented procedings. He scooped up Drapood, and dove into the deepths of the lake - interstingly not eating this one favored amongst the rest. I suspect Drapood and the leviathon are in league to rest the sceptres of power from Joparg and dominate these poor fish-folk people. It's sad, but I was happy I was not ate.
Joparg convinced the gathering, two-thousand strong, that we are fish-friends, and honored us with a touch from each of 2k fins slapped on our chests and leaving a stench. I could not hold it in. I had to say something, so I did so with food. Oddly, the fish-folk I said this too appreciated my honoring his presence by acknowledging his present with a gift of my own. Fish-folk are funny, and funny is strange. Funny how my life finds itself involved with such funny tales. Eff it.
On the mundane magic front, Desicrist was able to contemplate and understand the makings of a sceptre. Apparently this craft is lost to us above, and from a time long past. He has mentioned how sceptres are like wands except they hold multiple spells of greater power. So I wonder how many, and just how powerful. We can use this knowledge to set up shop in Waterdeep and sell sceptres to citizens from several sources. Belli as he is (not as he was, as he was ending at the belly) got ahold of many spells from Joparg's spell library (apparently Joparg is a wizard as well as grandmaster). He has copied them from the metal (possibly mithril) plates on which we found them, and seems to be pleased with the results.
By the way, the 'first artifact' that I took out of Joparg's 'safe' has been excitedly reported as holding two augmented spells. It's got a maximized Shocking Grasp, and an extended Lightnigbolt (I think those are the right terms). I forget who it was, but the person was damn excited about this. I guess it's a big deal. Show's how much I know about good ole magic stuff.
I'ma gettin' near to the end so stay a bit longer. I didn't think there was much to say, until I got started and found I had a difficult time quiting. Just get me started on story telling, and you'll be sorry if you don't have a couple hours of excess time that needs some trimmin'.
After cleaning up a bit (a big bit) Joparg took us on a personal tour of the city. it's a very interesting place, and guess what, to his chargin I now know the secret word needed to allow myself to fly. I'm pretty damn excited about it. I can't wait until I get the opportunity to use it. I've got it here somewhere ... damn, I don't think I can find it presently. Now where the hell is that word?
Oh, yea, Joparg showed us around. The city has two Mythals in it. So now every city I go to that only has one will be like "Oh, only one mythal? Gee that's to bad. Hey who are those ladies over there? Oh, she runs the place? Well great, she's just the kind of person I'd like to meet. Stop boring me with you're one-mythal city and make some introductions, please & kindly." The mythals allow the people to fly, and other things Joparg wouldn't say (He thinks he can keep secrets from the ears and eyes of this hin. I spent four damned years of my life growing from young to mid-aged mostly in the enslaved profession of 'watch, listen, learn & report'. And that was for abhorrent beholders.)
The mythal was pretty, and is quite powerful, I'm sure. Aside from that, just looking at it is kind of boring. For some reason Bellumthain and Desicrist don't seem to excited about the mythals. Seems to me they are more impressive than dumb old sceptres, and a bunch of spells written on mithril plates. To each there own, I guess.
Joparg showed us his trash dump. Kind of seems like a mundane thing to show a visiting body, but I suppose trash removal gets to be a big deal down here. Caulwen seemed interested in it, though. Her people train carrion crawlers to do stuff and guard things and dispose of unwanted bits and pieces. They don't look like agreeable beasts to me, but she is part insect, and has a bat for a best friend (Though Nullum is quite cute, if one can get past the leathery wings and the legless-like way he walks around. It's god-awful cute seeing him talk whole words and sentences and actually make sense. Maybe I should let him write some stuff in this log. Now that would be interesting, indeed). Joparg was impressed with the idea that carrion crawlers are trainable. One probably has to be part insect, or what ever they are, to really get down and do some serious training, though. I wonder what those feelers feel like when they touch you. Hmm? Maybe Joparg will let me pet one of them.
The final location of the tour of Seakin was a tavern. My kind of place, though the ladies were a bit thin in the picking category. Come to think of it I have no clue which are ladies and which are men. That's pretty funny. If I was REALLY experimental I could end up making a mistake of the kind something only the big folk do. Beside the obvious, that's a down-right gross though. I have to stop thinking on that now. Thanks.
With the abscence of discernable women, the tavern lost much of it's appeal, but it still seemed like a good place to have some poisonous pints and make prayers to a false godling. So we left. Plus I don't understand Kuo-Toan, and talking through an interpreter is funcional, but highly not personal.
Last, but most certain on the top of the list of interesting things to have happened was the deal I struck with Joparg to sell him the key. Then I spent about two hours arguing with the group about the wisdom of doing such a thing. Looks like I'm going to have to renegotiate with Jopargiot on this whole key thing. He won't be to happy about it, but I'll make him happy in the end (I have a way of doing thus) (& I don't mean the end like humans mean the end, that's only for big, dirty folk).
The kind of end a hin appreciates.
Abelalon Vo
Luiren Strongheart
Demon Master
Beholder Bewatcher
Lich Eater
I wanted to go up to the keyed portal room to check out the tribute, because I did not trust them to have given us something worthy, real, and not trapped. I could find no traps, and pulled everything out of the chests in doing so. It turns out to be a lot less than I had originally thought. Only about 100 pounds or so in the two chests. I mean, I saw two chests and figured it was like 400 pounds of stuff and things of a magical and valuable nature.
We got about 400 gems ranging in an estimated value of 9 to 130 GPs each. Wow, a big hall there, I'd say. There were three cameos with elf heads on them, which Desicrist says are from Myth Drannor (& I wonder how such was got). They are valued at about 10k each. That's a good start, but it's also a bad finish. Beside those there was like as many mithril coins as it would take to equal my weight, a couple wands, and a couple rods (the rods I've never heard of - some web spinning thing, and a portal finder - not to interesting, I'll bet).
Now getting up there took quite a bit of convincing on my part. Babydoll was so uninterested in checking the treasure that he went sparring, and Celery just went outside with Caulwen (& Nullum) and someone else, though I can not recall who it was (no one seems to fit). But they were the easy ones. I had to argue with some fish-folk to let us go, pulling out the "I understand not being allowed in the city unescorted just yet, but if we can't go outside then we amount to not much more than prisoners" line, which seems to have gotten a positive response. But then my group decided to convince me to go in and have some drinks with the Toan monks to celebrate some odd thing or another. I was out voted by everyone present so I went.
I have a general policy to have my decisions and make them too, but when the entire group is against me I'll do what they want (I recognize I'm not always right, but neither are they). So we went to have some fish drinks. We all forgot about the Heroes Feast cast by Desicrist (we are just such heroes that we forget we are most of the time - well, I am, and so is Desicrist and Bellumthain, and Celery too, and I'll even say Caulwen and Nullum, but the rigged jury is hung on the other two), so Caulwen did a bit of silent, motionless casting to detect for poison and found, just like the food, that the drinks were poison as well. Unfortunatly she did not know what type of poison, and not knowing led me to believe the incorrect.
I thought it was just another of those Batrachi spice things where everything they eat is poisonous to the rest of us. Turns out it was malicious. Some fish-folk just can not be trusted. But because we forgot about the spell, we kept trying to weasle out of drinking and toasting, or figure a way to drink some and cure the ills. Then Babydoll was kind enough to remind the group of our hero status for a limited time, and we drank with the fishes.
The 'honey' mead wasn't 3/4th bad, I'll have to say. The poison gave it a particular ... odd ... but good, taste. It's made from some fungus they have laying around down here. seems like everything is made from this or that fungus down here. I guess with all the damp the fungal growth just can't be helped.
After a couple pints, our 'friend' & 'ally', Joparg Bluplip, Grandmaster, came running in (it's really, increadibly funny to see a bipedal fish run) and asked us how we felt. The others, the monks, the ... 21st plane, I can't recall what they call their monks. Must be my 53 years catching up with me. But they kept looking at us, and seemed to be wondering, too, how we were doing. This was an obvious sign we should have been looking for. Maybe it was the two pints (remember, two pints to me is like eight pints to a big person - which everyone but Caulwen and Nullum are), but I was not paying to much attention (as usual). In some ways I think I'll never wise-up to the evil ways of some. I just want to have a good time and make good friends, and do fun stuff, and see fun things, and meet 'interesting' ladies of all sorts (though I have to say I find fish, and pigs, and dogs to contain a paucity of interest to me). But everyone else seems to want to rule and conquer and kill and dominate.
Imagine what the world would be like if hin and gnomes were in charge and responsible. We have some bad apples, sure, but only a rare few. Even those are nothing compared to the machinations of the big folk. maybe being big makes them think they are superior or something. Who knows? Lord Ao probably doesn't even. but I bet Yondolla does, that's why she made us. The world needed some good clean fun, some happy-hearted mischief, and some positively lightly endowed explorations.
Anyway, as you may be able to tell, I am down trodden by these events, and that which came to follow. I'll recover soon enough, I'm a hin after all, but for now I'm all about depression.
It turns out the fish-folk we were enjoying a good imbibe with were trying to poison us. Not just regular honey-&-butter spices, but full-on poison. Like some of the stuff I, ... well it is something called lich dust. And it has to be eaten, I think, to be effective. But because of our epic ode status it just added ad- OH! Yondolla! I just realized ... I ate a lich. Ewh! That's totally, positively, definely gross. I think I need to ... I don't know, maybe eat some black lotus root to get the lich parts out of me. Now I'm a demon-tainted, lich-imbibed, strongheart hin misplaced in the north of the Realms. I think I need to go home and rest this one out. I'm like the illithid of liches. Like a ghoul grave-robber robbing cradles to get the tastiest bits and softest parts. My guts are like mummy guts, all petrified and dry, but stuck inside me and still churning away at the dust mites falling into my grave. When I pass on, Brandobaris isn't even going to want to have anything to do with me. Maybe I can get Desicrist to cure me, or fix my spleen, or something. I feel sick. I need a good double breakfast to push this out.
Oh, a double wake-up. I miss those days. Big folk, even gnomes, don't know how to eat. They just eat for sustenance, not for good, pure, wholesome lust. Can you believe Desicrist actually wears a magic item which keeps him from 'having' to eat, ever. Caulwen does to, and apparently when Nullum is in his pouch he doesn't have to either. What the gods must have done to some races to make them the evil lot they are is beyond me. But to not want to eat, is just as bad, well almost as bad, as being a beholder (and lusting after everything). Like I said, I'm not to wise about people and the whys and what-fors as to their reasons for doing.
Joparg was pissed, and not drunk pissed, but mad pissed (and being a fish he redrinks his, and other's, piss on a constant basis, which compounds his pissed-ness and makes it even worse). If these fish-folk didn't have such wide mouths filled with such prodigeous teeth they would be funny-cute doing nearly everything they do. But the teeth kill it for everything which requires an open mouth (or doesn't require it but commonly results in it).
We left the messy monk hall, with apologies from Joparg. He stayed inside and began yelling at those who did the misdead of mispoisoning us. He said some tough stuff, and I though it was just a show, but the future told me I was yet again wrong. It's funny how hindsight only works in one 'direction'. I wonder what it's called when it goes the other way. The group talked, and I decided to be upset, so Mr. Bluplip was told we were going to the keyed portal room (he couldn't say no without making us prisoners, and that seems to be not a desire of his. He's almost a good-nice guy. Almost. The word is Drapood had his monks try to capture us and make us more than what we were to become to the assembly of Ramonos later in the day.
So, I went back, actually a bunch of us did, to the keyed portal room. Caulwen, Celery, Nullum, and (I think) Babyface went outside while I inventoried what we had been given. I seem to be the only one ever concerned with such things. It's not that I'm greedy or anything, I just have an organization to fund, a lot of mouths to feed, and not much in the way of income. So it's important. I mean, I'm not poor are anything (any hin with 1k GPs in his pocket is definetly not poor), but I have expensive needs, and tastes which cost quite the coin (women can be expensive).
Anyway, Cel-Cal-Nul-Bab whent to the surface (just a short ten foot jump from the room) to see the sky and breath the fresh air and, hopefully, see the sun (well Caulwen and Nullum were not to interested in seeing the sun), and they encountered some beast and it's hearder up there. Now that Sourface is gone life seems to be returning to the marsh. Desicrist told us (or maybe Belli did, sometimes I just can't keep straight which one told what to whom, when and how which was told to those who listened) there are marsh drovers here who, usually, heard these beasts called cattle-bleepus, which have some milk the drovers make into death-cheese (called so because ye ald bleepus just look at a folk and a folk becomes a firm form).
Bleepus be had, one drover kill another and take a bleepus away to a home. Homeward bleepus bleeps but not looks at our homely heroes who fly at night up top above, all capped and caped with a bat by the moon. No drover see them, though them see twin drovers. One twin say, and the other say back. One twin say, and the other hit back. One twin a folk, the other is mad. Mad twin make folk twin a sad twin to behold. All for the sake of a bleepus to hold. And moon bat swings & sings to them pests. So pests make him full and happy to nest.
Back in the fishery we found ourself attending the sacrificial ceremony, as prommised by his grand excellentness who fell to us twice. Joparg made a mad rousing speak (well, maybe fishy-folk find it firming, for I found it flat). He went on with his newly made-up tale of the wonders of us heroes, and convinced his folk we had good hearts to their cause (even though they ironically want to conquer, convert & destroy our peoples). The one fish-guy we 'spared' to spread the sorrowfull word of our affairs was drowned in a pool made by the actuated arm and hand of a full-sized statue of ald Ramonos as he was.
We were then blessed with the presence of Ramonos as he is, who scooped up that fresh fillet and chomp, chomp, chomped it down. Gross fish bits (and some not so small) got flung about and the fold got a nice rain of former friend. Blood & guts, blood & guts, I say sometimes not enough. Next it was time for a further sacrifice (and I feared for our lives at this junction), as just called for by Jopargus. This was an amazing sight to have seen. Dozens of fish-folk-future-fillets volunteered their fins for a fiendish finish as afore mentioned provided to the firstly, freshly flooded 'fortunate' fish-man. Fecund must be these fish-folk, for they form quite a feast for their fearsome, false forefather.
Then Jopargus Bluplipius proferred a pile of pious pieces of piscine 'pork' to their present deific pestulance. 'Ramonos' made with glee an extended meal of Drapood's clutch of fish-folk fist-fighters, and again portions of these got tossed back and to, and peppered the audience in the rows. Luckily we, the heroes, were high and back far enough away to avoid the distressing, disembowled detritus. Desicrist did hide his displeased coutanance in disgust and dispair. And he's the one who wanted to see all this.
Ramonos that is made a speach too, and seemed, to my discerning eye, a little displeased at the presented procedings. He scooped up Drapood, and dove into the deepths of the lake - interstingly not eating this one favored amongst the rest. I suspect Drapood and the leviathon are in league to rest the sceptres of power from Joparg and dominate these poor fish-folk people. It's sad, but I was happy I was not ate.
Joparg convinced the gathering, two-thousand strong, that we are fish-friends, and honored us with a touch from each of 2k fins slapped on our chests and leaving a stench. I could not hold it in. I had to say something, so I did so with food. Oddly, the fish-folk I said this too appreciated my honoring his presence by acknowledging his present with a gift of my own. Fish-folk are funny, and funny is strange. Funny how my life finds itself involved with such funny tales. Eff it.
On the mundane magic front, Desicrist was able to contemplate and understand the makings of a sceptre. Apparently this craft is lost to us above, and from a time long past. He has mentioned how sceptres are like wands except they hold multiple spells of greater power. So I wonder how many, and just how powerful. We can use this knowledge to set up shop in Waterdeep and sell sceptres to citizens from several sources. Belli as he is (not as he was, as he was ending at the belly) got ahold of many spells from Joparg's spell library (apparently Joparg is a wizard as well as grandmaster). He has copied them from the metal (possibly mithril) plates on which we found them, and seems to be pleased with the results.
By the way, the 'first artifact' that I took out of Joparg's 'safe' has been excitedly reported as holding two augmented spells. It's got a maximized Shocking Grasp, and an extended Lightnigbolt (I think those are the right terms). I forget who it was, but the person was damn excited about this. I guess it's a big deal. Show's how much I know about good ole magic stuff.
I'ma gettin' near to the end so stay a bit longer. I didn't think there was much to say, until I got started and found I had a difficult time quiting. Just get me started on story telling, and you'll be sorry if you don't have a couple hours of excess time that needs some trimmin'.
After cleaning up a bit (a big bit) Joparg took us on a personal tour of the city. it's a very interesting place, and guess what, to his chargin I now know the secret word needed to allow myself to fly. I'm pretty damn excited about it. I can't wait until I get the opportunity to use it. I've got it here somewhere ... damn, I don't think I can find it presently. Now where the hell is that word?
Oh, yea, Joparg showed us around. The city has two Mythals in it. So now every city I go to that only has one will be like "Oh, only one mythal? Gee that's to bad. Hey who are those ladies over there? Oh, she runs the place? Well great, she's just the kind of person I'd like to meet. Stop boring me with you're one-mythal city and make some introductions, please & kindly." The mythals allow the people to fly, and other things Joparg wouldn't say (He thinks he can keep secrets from the ears and eyes of this hin. I spent four damned years of my life growing from young to mid-aged mostly in the enslaved profession of 'watch, listen, learn & report'. And that was for abhorrent beholders.)
The mythal was pretty, and is quite powerful, I'm sure. Aside from that, just looking at it is kind of boring. For some reason Bellumthain and Desicrist don't seem to excited about the mythals. Seems to me they are more impressive than dumb old sceptres, and a bunch of spells written on mithril plates. To each there own, I guess.
Joparg showed us his trash dump. Kind of seems like a mundane thing to show a visiting body, but I suppose trash removal gets to be a big deal down here. Caulwen seemed interested in it, though. Her people train carrion crawlers to do stuff and guard things and dispose of unwanted bits and pieces. They don't look like agreeable beasts to me, but she is part insect, and has a bat for a best friend (Though Nullum is quite cute, if one can get past the leathery wings and the legless-like way he walks around. It's god-awful cute seeing him talk whole words and sentences and actually make sense. Maybe I should let him write some stuff in this log. Now that would be interesting, indeed). Joparg was impressed with the idea that carrion crawlers are trainable. One probably has to be part insect, or what ever they are, to really get down and do some serious training, though. I wonder what those feelers feel like when they touch you. Hmm? Maybe Joparg will let me pet one of them.
The final location of the tour of Seakin was a tavern. My kind of place, though the ladies were a bit thin in the picking category. Come to think of it I have no clue which are ladies and which are men. That's pretty funny. If I was REALLY experimental I could end up making a mistake of the kind something only the big folk do. Beside the obvious, that's a down-right gross though. I have to stop thinking on that now. Thanks.
With the abscence of discernable women, the tavern lost much of it's appeal, but it still seemed like a good place to have some poisonous pints and make prayers to a false godling. So we left. Plus I don't understand Kuo-Toan, and talking through an interpreter is funcional, but highly not personal.
Last, but most certain on the top of the list of interesting things to have happened was the deal I struck with Joparg to sell him the key. Then I spent about two hours arguing with the group about the wisdom of doing such a thing. Looks like I'm going to have to renegotiate with Jopargiot on this whole key thing. He won't be to happy about it, but I'll make him happy in the end (I have a way of doing thus) (& I don't mean the end like humans mean the end, that's only for big, dirty folk).
The kind of end a hin appreciates.
Abelalon Vo
Luiren Strongheart
Demon Master
Beholder Bewatcher
Lich Eater
# posted by Matthew : 9:47 AM
