Knock Down (Part 5)
The morning is dawning now, the fight with the giant ant-like creatures fading into something like a bad dream. It could have been if not for the disturbed dirt around the campsite and the body. It looks like it's going to be a bright sunny day in fact, but out here in the wastelands that just means that it's already working its way to unpleasant. After all, if it's warm now it'll be downright scorching by midday. That's something to look forward to.
Merek looks up at the skies, then he nods to the others a bit as well. "So, what do you all think?" he asks, about what to do about it all next.
"You-would never-believe. There is this merchant down the way with this giant-beer-cart...but..." The sith-makar slows. Kuumvu has, behind him, a rather large cart. Or, at least one large enough to hold a keg of beer. "Hsst, are you-lost-too?" he asks. "I was coming to find-you all and..."
- hic* "Kssst. It is very-good-beer," he says, sounding warm and happy.
Sargon says, "I think - no, I hope - those monsters somehow show we are getting closer to the dungeon."
Since it is morning, and the night's rest is done, Alaryn picks up her campfire bead.. the fire returning to bead form. Hey, it's handy. She tucks it away and stretches, "Okay, so I'm all loaded for bear. And for lions, and tigers.. oh my." she says with a smirk before rolling her neck and glancing about, "So, what's the plan again?"
"A good-drink?" the sith-makar asks. Kuumvu drops the front-end of the cart. The barrel sloshes, obviously heavy with ale. He stares at it for a moment. Blinks a few times. Then, leans over to grasp the side of it. "Good drink takesh you anywhere!"
Pause. "Washn't there-a-map?"
GAME: Kuumvu rolls perception: (14)+0: 14 GAME: Alaryn rolls perception: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Sargon rolls perception: (4)+9: 13 GAME: Merek rolls perception: (4)+13: 17 GAME: Stena rolls perception: (20)+0: 20
"Aaaah," says Stena, stretching with a yawn.
She then gets to her feet. "I feel way better. Did anyone think to cook the ants?" She asks, curiously. Ant meat. IT could be good. You never know. She seems fine, really, with just moving on.
The map... is gone. It's not in your hands or your packs. It's not in any pockets or pouches. It's /gone/. Then Stena spots it. It's currently being held by an elderly gentleman standing beside Kuumvu's wagon. He's leaning heavily on a walking staff and looks rather like a strong breeze could blow him over. Which is when the rest of you notice him.
Not because Stena has, but because he speaks up in a surprisingly strong and steady voice given his bearing. "Why do you all have a map to /there/?" Shaggy eyebrows arch and he looks around with a piqued expression on his face looking all for the world entirely innocent despite the fact that he simply wasn't there a few seconds ago.
GAME: Merek rolls sense motive: (20)+3: 23 GAME: Stena rolls Sense Motive: (4)+0: 4 GAME: Alaryn rolls sense motive: (1)+1: 2 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Kuumvu rolls perform/sing-2: (9)+10+-2: 17 GAME: Sargon rolls sense motive: (17)+6: 23
Having -totally- missed the guy's appearance, Alaryn whips around and she is scrabbling her hand at the holster for her Dragonspitter, while her mouth is sputtering . . for one, unable to find words. Finally, she gets her hand on the grip, but doesn't draw the weapon yet as she yells, "WHO ARE YOU?!"
"This man here, he is to be trusted, but he isn't what he seems. So keep that in mind, we should accept his assistance, and be polite," Merek offers, while he makes his way to the guy to bow, "Greetings, I am Merek, of Veyshan, it is a pleasure to meet you. We are traveling to explore on duty for the Guild."
"Wersh going to hold-a-damn-good-party," the skald says. Kuumvu thumps the barrel, his lean face an expression of sotted cheer. "Offer you a drink, ksst?" His long tail curls and uncurls, snakelike. Then Alaryn's shouting and he holds out his tankard. "Eh?"
"...mn? Oi! What the fuck do you have our map for?!" Stena is annoyed. "You can't just tromp up out of nowhere and take our map, no matter how kind you might seem!" He's very kind, she thinks. Totally seems that way. Swell guy, this random map-thief!
Nodding her head emphatically, Alaryn says, "Yes. What she said." she says, her chin pointing at Stena as she slides her Dragonspitter out of its holster, but holds it barrel down at her side for the moment as her eyes narrow.
Sargon moves around until he's standing behind the old man. At a reasonably non-threatening distance, but in position to cut him off if he should try to abscond with their map. "Why do you ask...? Do you know of this place?" He points at the map.
The old man smiles and offers the map back to the nearest person who isn't drunk. Who happens to be Sargon at the moment. Who's just a little closer than Alaryn whom he offers a friendly smile to. He seems entirely at ease in spite of her vaguely threatening actions. Not to mention her more hostile tone. "My name is Fizzban."
He sketches a little shaky bow and his old gray eyes look around a bit. "Think? What was that you said sonny? No I don't think, I /know/ that place is dangerous. Very." He leans over and clasps Kuumvu on the shoulder.
Clearly he misheard 'drink' for 'think'. Hard of hearing this old man. "That map isn't yours though little lady. Nope. That there map is one of mine! Don't know how it got... Hey! What have you there miss?" He goes from talking to Stena to talking to Alaryn in the space of a second, staring at her hand. "Is that a wurmsputter? I haven't seen one in ages! Fantastic little things!"
Merek nods a bit while he contents to look between folk as he adjusts his attire about him.
Sargon takes the map with a faint look of relief. The thought of beating down an old timer to retrieve it didn't sit well with him. He glances over it briefly and then looks at the old man. "You made this?" he repeats. "Then you truly do know of the dungeon. We expected it to be dangerous - that is exactly why we were sent."
Narrowing her eyes even more, Alaryn snorts, "I don't trust him. If he says go north, I'd go west just to spite'im.." Then she inclines her head, "Unless he wanted to buy something. I'd -totally- sell to the guy."
"I..." The sith-makar gives himself a hard shake, then the old man a side-eyeing. "You ruined a perfectly-good buzz there. Don't you know that bravery comess with drink?" The voice is teasing, like an elbow to the ribs. The tail flickers, though. Flick, flick.
The old man blinks and smiles. "Yes I did! I made a lot of maps in my youth. Bangles and bangles of 'em." He pats Kuumuv on the shoulder once more and his grin widens somewhat. "Yes, yes, bravery /does/ come with a good think! Smart boy, smart boy."
He drops his hand and offers half a bow to Alaryn. "Well you don't need to trust me missy. I'll just be on my way if you don't want my advice. Goodday." Fizzban turns and offers a smile to Sargon before moving past him carefully and slightly wobbly on his feet.
"Before you're on your way, can you assist us with some directions?" Merek asks, "We request this, politely," he says.
Pressing her lips together, Alaryn stares daggers at Merek. She was quite happy when the man started to leave, but now.. what the HELL? She doesn't want to like... yell in front of the stranger, but if anyone looks at her, there should be lasers shooting from her eyes at Merek.
The skald accepts the smacks on the shoulder. Though, looks up right-fast when the old man starts to leave. Kuumvu starts to say a thing.
Opens his muzzle.
Shuts it.
Looks at Merek.
Looks back at the old man.
Shuts muzzle.
...smart boy.
The old man pauses looking between Alaryn and Merek and back again. "Mmmm I don't want to be causing any trouble here. Looks like the young missy doesn't want my help at all. I'm sure you'll find your way eventually." His eyes flick to Kuumvu then he offers his hand toward Merek. "It was a pleasure to see you though."
Merek offers up his gloved palm to shake the old man's with a nod to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you also," he says, while he offers a smile as well. "Eluna walk with you in the night of the stars," he adds, while he makes a gesture of some nice benediction for him.
"Mrmm-HRRM," the skald says. He thumps his tail by way of a nod, and looks between Alaryn and Merek. "Mrrm-HRRRM..." Oh, he's not opening his muzzle.
Not. At. ALL.
Just like he isn't commenting. Totally. Not. At. ALL.
Smart boy.
Sliding her weapon up, Alaryn holsters it once more. "We still have the map, yes?" she asks, "He didn't switch it for a fake with super quick hands, did he?" she asks towards Stena.
"How the hell am I supposed to know? Do I look like I have an amazing cartographical memory?" says Stena to Alaryn, grumbling. "That guy is weird." She adds. Because, you know, he's weird. Still, she's ready to move on.
The old man leaves as simply as that, disappearing into a gust of wind-drawn sand. You still have the map (though it's a chance it's a fake if you believe Alaryn), and most of you actively feel pretty good at the moment. Even if the old man did leave without telling you how to get to where you're going. It's getting downright hot now. Probably time to move on.
GAME: Merek rolls survival: (9)+3: 12 GAME: Alaryn rolls survival: (20)+1: 21
"Mrmmm-hmmm," says the skald. "Well," he says. He looks the way the old man had gone. Then, eventually, back to the others. "I'm feeling-really-good at-the-moment. And, it's getting hot. What do-you-ssay about us moving on?" he asks. Then, "Where-does the map ssay go?”
"Seriously. It's just a map. I'm not much of a map person but.. " Alaryn reaches for the thing, looks up at the sky, around at the various.. landmarks, or lack thereof, and then back at the map. Then she snorts and turns it around. It was upside down. "Let's see." she says.
It's good that Alaryn figured out that the map was upside down, but more important than that you are able to safely navigate around a few less pleasant aspects of being out in the desert. This takes up time, but it's better than walking right into the mouth of the giant ant-creature's nest that is only half a mile out from where you camped last night. It's getting late now though, and it's time to either keep walking through the night... or decide to camp for the evening.
Merek nods a bit while he watches the old man, then it's back to the others so he can follow them.
"That-was-close! Did you ssee the size of its...?" Kuumvu gestures to his own muzzle as they walk. He'd been talking, animatedly, about the slugbeast they'd snuck on by--thanks to the map.
So many things they'd avoided, or just slicked past. So many things that could have-- "Eaten-us. Ksst, ksst, this-one thinks it looked at us-like a fish would ssoup!" Sith-makar humor. ...Must be.
"...let's camp," says Stena, after a moment. "Yeah, let's definitely camp. Maybe we'll get more ants?" she asks curiously. She's hungry, okay?
"I know! Just think how bad it would've been if that old dude had stolen the map! God, what kind of name is Fizzban anyway? So stupid." mutters Alaryn before she looks to Stena, "Okay, camp it is." that said, she reaches for her pouch and withdraws her campfire bead. Instant campfire. How can you beat it?!
Fire. Not /Fire/ but... The sith-makar sits down, at a crouch. "Fire-and-food. This-one iss all for that. ..."
"...thiss-one's barrel of ale iss probably a barrel-of-water..." he says. And, having thought of that, refuses to look behind him, at the wheelborrow, with the keg that makes up most of its bulk. Which, at least until a few hours ago. Had held BOOZE.
It's a totally quiet evening. Almost too quiet given where you are, but it's restful and you need the rest after the long day of walking in the scorching heat. The next morning dawns bright and early just like the last one, but as you gather up your map to head out there's no friendly old man waiting to chat with you. Instead in the distance you can make out a pair of pillars shaped like pagasi. Your map shows the same pillars marked out as the entrance to the dungeon you're headed to.
Without the need for the map you continue forward toward the pagasi. In fact it's easy to do so. There's nothing at all between you and them. Again... it's unsettling. You keep expecting some giant scorpion or magical beast to come along and try to eat you but there's only echoing silence. Even the wind dies a sudden death within the first few hours of the day. The ground grows steadily harder and the pillars draw closer and closer. Up close they're massive. You can't see the tops of them at all. But you can see the bottoms and at the base of the two pillars are a pair of men. One is dressed in all blue from head to toe, and the other in red. They look identical to one another and they wait patiently for you to draw close, saying not a word until you move to pass between them. Then together they stand in your path.
"Only those that have proven themselves worthy can enter here. Those that have proven themselves worthy... and whom have defeated /us/."
"Can we win with like, a board game?" Merek asks of the sentinels while he offers a smile. An interesting question to ask!
Rolling her eyes, Alaryn glances to the others and then back to the guards, "You sure we can't get'em to fight each other? You know.. Red Versus Blue or somethin'?" she asks with a shrug.
Sargon studies first the red twin, then the blue one. "...defeat you how?" he asks. "In a fight? Or some other contest...?
"You could choose to defeat us in battle yes." The two men nod in unison, just like they talk in unison. "Or, you could defeat us in a game. Though... the only one we play is Dragon Poker." They grin together.
"Perfect. It's not our fault that's the only game you know. You can learn a new one as we teach it to you. We -can- choose the challenge, yes?" asks Alaryn with a sly smile on her face.
"I would like to play Dragon Poker, what's the fun of like making this simple," Merek explains then to Alaryn. He looks then to the sentinels while he nods a bit also.
"...oh dragon poker, great." Stena says, "I love a good game of dragon poker. Nobody knows dragon poker better than I do and all that."
A pause.
"So what the fuck is dragon poker, anyway?"
Sargon says, "Dragon Poker?" he seems mystified. He looks at the rest of the party. "I think we should play. When will we get this chance again?"
Rolling her eyes, Alaryn says, "The smart thing is to make sure -we- have the advantage. If we play their game, they have the advantage. If we want to get past them... to win, then we have to play to win."
"It sounds as though you wish to play. Or most of you do." They hold out their hands and a book appears between them. The book in question is massive in size and drops onto the ground with a distinct thud. "This is the beginners guide. We suggest you read it before you challenge us. Take your time. It has been a long time since we have had a real game."
Merek picks up the book, nodding then to the guardians while he settles about to look at the general rules within on how to play Dragon's Poker.
Throwing her hands into the air, Alaryn shakes her head, "Apparently you all -want- to lose. No, that's okay. Don't listen to the person trying to get us through this without losing... that's fine. I'll be over here." she says as she turns to stalk away.
Sargon peeks at the guide. When he thinks the twins aren't watching, he asides to Alaryn: "Even if we lose," his tone makes it sound like he thinks that highly unlikely, "We ca ln still fight them." Oruch pragmatism at its finest.
"...that's a lot of fucking rules," replies Stena, nonchalantly, "Think we can just choose the fight instead? I like a good fight." She somehow thinks the others aren't gonna go for that, though, and she sighs with disappointment.
Waving both hands at the guards, Alaryn says, "No, too late to ask -me-. You want to fight. Let's fight. You want to try to beat them at a contest to avoid a fight? Sure. You want to lose?" She looks to Sargon and adds, "They said, beat them in combat -or- at a game. They did not say that losing one just means we have to do the other. If we lose the game, we could just lose the chance to do this, and not be -able- to prove ourselves worthy even if we kick their ass."
For those looking at the rules, it quickly becomes apparently that this is a very complicated game. Just the index is several pages long. There are thirteen differently numbered cards in the deck in four different colors. Each of the cards is worth it's face value. This is where it gets complicated. You see, each of the values shift depending on where one is seated at the table, the lunar and celestial cycle, the plane of existence that the card is being played upon. The race, age and gender of the person holding the card. The time of day. Which cards have been played previously and their order. And so on and so forth. Shortly - it's a game that would make the wisest person throw their hands up in dismay, and the wisest wizard drool at the possibilities.
"We do so hope you will play with us, it has been a very long time and we grow /so/ bored of beating people in physical contests." They look at you with identical expressions of longing.
-TBC