Renew the Pact: Time of our Lives, part 7
Log Info
- Title: Renew the Pact: Time of our Lives, part 7
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Paenitia, Aryia, Seyardu, Fallon, Lyme
- Place: Goldcoast of Veyshan, Tashraan
- Time: Friday, July 09, 2021, 8:50 PM
- Summary: Farland and his hirelings continue to question Shaevin regarding the anomalies. The Elf is very aloof and reluctant to share information, softened only by ridicule and contempt of his bravery. He explains a bunch of things that aren't clear, although it seems possible that changes in the present can change the paste. He insists the adventurers sleep at the temple in their auction disguises. They balk at this, and Paenitia insists leaving Ramirez along all night is a bad idea and she'll pick up everyone's clothes. Instead, they all go back to the inn. Where, in the middle of the night the entire contingent of Tashraani guards show up, at least it seems that many, to arrest them. Seems Farland has murdered one of the other auction participants. Allegedly. So the adventurers are separated so they can be questioned regarding his guilt. As always, only a preponderance of evidence beyond an unreasonable doubt would prove his innocence, and his mercenary employees are unlikely to be reliable witnesses.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-= Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Fallon 5'6" 145 Lb Half-Elf Male A short hooded man. Lyme 7'2" 435 Lb Orc Butch Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Farland Friendly Gnome Male A sorcerer and a Resurrectionist, and a gentleman. Shaevin Dawn Elf Male A priest of Navos, a skeptic and young -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool 5'0" Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Story so Far
Farland and entourage go to the Temple, and inside to meet a friend of his. A friend who dismisses the group's concern and only investigates their claims when pressed. He sees something that shocks him, lies about it, and is called out by Lyme and the loconut, Paenitia.
Farland's frown deepens considerably. "What aren't you telling us?" after the words of the adventurers reach him.
The red haired elf sighs, feeling caught out appropriately. "It's something I need to confirm with greater work, that's all, and speculating now would be unwise."
"I am surrounded by several Alexandrian adventurers, warriors known for their reckless disregard for caution and thoughtful approaches. Don't make me ask them to do something reckless to your hourglass outside or something."
"Oh, please. That thing gets smashed all the time."
"IT WILL BE SMASHED HARDER, SHAE. This is serious."
"I'm aware, but I've an obligation to --"
"You've an obligation to tell us what's going on, as you wouldn't even have something to 'confirm' if we hadn't showed up."
"... /fine/," replies the elf, venom creeping into his tone. "Know that I'll answer, and then we're *done*, Farland. I'll owe you no longer."
He lets out a breath.
"Somehow, a piece of the past has gone missing."
And now...
"So, this piece, is it important piece, or the Sunday morning after the grand festival where you sleep in?" The Off-White Rook asks.
Aryia, in her little corner fanning herself with her hat, she blankly stares at the elf and flatly gestures, confused, "What. How." <Handspeech>
Fallon just blinks owlishly back at them. "... What?" This is way over his level of understanding.
"So, you thought this was something not important to let us know about? The fact that time itself is not working properly?" The silver sith-makar asks from where she was sitting. "I understand if you do not trust us, but this concerns us as well, does it not? I am not threatening to smash anything, but I want to resolve this issue to the best of our ability if possible."
"...no, it's not like that. I wanted to hold it back because what are the lot of YOU going to do about it?" he asks, earnestly, shaking his head. "It's to be dealt with, and now that Farland here has thrown all his weight around to get me to tell you about something that you'll be unable to help with ---"
Farland scoffs, "NOT unable to help with, you dingbat."
He glances towards the others, eyes narrowing.
"I'm not going to lie, I have no idea how to restore missing 'time'. How does that even happen? I'm just as clueless as he thinks I am," Fallon admits.
Paenitia steps up in front of Shaevyn, unable to get too close because of her parapet dress. She stares up at the elf with her Crying Woman's mask. "I want to speak to your managing priest. The old, smarter one."
Aryia isn't melting as much, and with her having some iota of rationality, her squinting increased tenfold. Her patience was wearing thin. And the elf was waffling about the topic more than she does with just existing.
"I am not sure, but I know there is surely something to be done to help." The sith-makar replies as she stands back up to face the priest. "The fact you were not willing to tell us what was going on is concerning. This matters as much to as as it does to you, I am sure, since our memories were being twisted by whatever was happening in the auction. And I do not wish to be concerned about such going forward, for certain. Especially if something was taken by some of the people that were present there."
The elven Navosian rolls his eyes. "You are not going to find someone older than me present here. Just because I don't take you seriously, for your *youth* and inexperience, doesn't mean you can talk down to me. That's my job. Now that you've talked yourselves *into* this, however, there may be something you can do. It will, of course, be dangerous. Highly."
Farland snorts.
"Yes, we do the dangerous thing you are unable to." Paenitia says, waving her hand, staring up, "The talking up and the talking down cancel out to be only the talking."
Fallon sighs. "Well, I suppose we could just turn around and head back to where we came from, empty handed but alive. Feel free to enlighten us, though, if you really are interested in making us young and inexperienced ones take a risk you may be unwilling to undertake yourself."
Aryia points to Paenitia, as if echoing their stance on the matter.
"Were we talking down to you, or are you seeing us speaking to you as such? If that is the case, it sounds as if it is your problem, not ours." Seyardu notes. "Paenitia was concerned due to you withholding information from us, and looking for someone who would be more willing to help with the past being missing. But if you are willing to help us help you with the very concept of time, then that is not necessary, is it?"
"... I did just say it was my job to talk down to you for your youth and inexperience," agrees the older elf with Seyardu with a ghost of a smile.
Farland adds, "I'm a gnome. I can kick him in the shins for all of you EXPERTLY. Now, out with it."
"Time is not the straight line most of us think it is. An endless river flowing forward, an arrow whose arc is the end of time as directed by Fate. I assure you that the fates are real, but time itself is far more nuanced and complicated. Since the death of Animus had colossal repercussions, the damage to it, and to the fates, wrought by Taara's selfish desire for more power was real. Things that were became not, things that were not or should not have been, became. As such, this sword that became a decanter, you say, or this scroll collection ceasing to exist, are ripples stemming from a singular change, somewhere in time. It needn't seem logical. A change in our perceived present can demand a change in the past to support it, lest time collapse in on itself. Fortunately, we Navosians can discern the proper course and correct for Taara's misbegotten ambition's consequences."
Fallon lets him speak until he's finished. He looks mildly confused at the point the other man chose to pause at. "And we, non-Navosians, can help how...?"
Aryia looks like she does her best to follow along, even fighting back the urge for her eyes to glaze over as the name of gods were mentioned. But she scratches her sweaty head. Confused.
"So what is the proper course?" she asks, frowning. <Handspeech>
"So if these changes are happening currently, or simultaneously, perhaps. I did not know it was a sword until it was brought to my attention, but likewise, they did not know it as a decanter at any point." Seyardu continues, nodding slightly as they listened to the explanation. "Both changes were happening simultaneously for the moment. There is nothing to be done about the present, if the problem with the past persists, the problem will come back even if the decanter or sword is returned to what it should be, yes?"
Paenitia listens in her mini-tower. "So, sound like you say change the present is change the past too. Or the past only matters? It one way or both ways?"
"Yes," is what he says to Paenitia to answers her question. "Our present could be another line of time's past, perhaps. It's all one giant headache, which is why we tend to keep it as simple as possible, even if it isn't. Time is weird."
He shrugs.
"So, to help: I'll need to take the night ot prepare, but by morning, I'll enchant a sort of temporal ... dowsing rod that will let us identify several potential temporal loci that could result in something like this. Once we identify it, I'll be able to ascertain what we need to do next. It is likely to not be fun, and highly dangerous. Time can defend itself. Most of the time, this is good, except when you're trying to help it. As a natural force, it can't really tell the difference."
Fallon rubs at his face in mild frustration. "Oh? Is that it? Here I thought you were going to continue being vague." He then gets back to his feet. "All we have to do is go fight time."
Finally, some headway. Aryia wasn't sure how she could help. But she was sure of one thing. She was good at punching things. And she'd punch time itself if that's what she had to do.
Yeah!
... okay, maybe that's the heatstroke talking.
"So, the point does not matter, as long as it is the one out of sorts. And when found, it is fixed. I would say that sounds simple, but we are speaking of some phenomenon capable of changing our perception of reality to what it feels is correct."
The sith-makar takes a breath, inhales, and exhales. "And even when that it is fixed, there is still the matter of what we purchased at the auction. There is no saying what we have now is what we needed, or what will happen to those walking away with other purchases."
Paenitia shrugs, "So time, he is like the sun, the sea, the rain. It is another force of nature that strike indiscriminate." She nods to Fallon, "We kill the time until tomorrow, then we find out how we are punching the clock. Yes?"
"Please do not punch a clock. It would be blasphemy here." The elven Navosian stares at Paenitia.
"We can punch the hourglass, then," Fallon answers. "Either way, I look forward to returning to the inn and finally getting out of these get-ups."
Aryia eagerly gets to her feet, peeling herself off of the floor at the mention of returning to the inn.
"Please don't punch an hourglass. It would be sacrilegious," he replies to Fallon, dryly.
"Yes, you can rest here. I'll provide a room for you." Wait, here doesn't have your clothes!
"It is best if you remain close at hand."
Of COURSE.
Aryia dejectly goes back to the floor in with a pouty 'thump'.
Fallon frowns at the elf. "Why does it matter where we are as long as we return at the appointed time? This place doesn't even have -chairs-. Additionally, I don't think -a- room will be enough for all of us."
"There are rooms inside. What, do you think I sleep on the cushions?" A pause.
"...well .., yes sometimes, but as an elf, I do not properly sleep *anyway* so ..."
He clears his throat. "I merely did not want to have to send for you across the city."
Farland snorts. "I think he's just being irritating."
"I understand the concern, time does seem important here, before more things are thrown out of sorts by the missing, thing." Seyardu nods with a sigh. "Perhaps if we are to stay here, two of us could go to gather a change of clothes and bring it back here. I would suggest Aryia since she does not need to sleep as long, but I think she is likely in need of rest the most of us at the moment.""
GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (14)+7: 21
"This, you are sure of?" The Dark Lucht looks up at the elf, "That it best I stay here, without the armour or weapons and wearing the dress that does not fit through doors. With brave Ramirez wondering, where his little Paenitia is? Until he rage through the streets searching for me, causing much distress and problem."
"I think it better I get him and bring him back. He need the many pillows."
"I grab the clothes of the others. Ramirez, he is used to carrying the arsenal of the Mad Dogs." The little Lucht adds.
"He is very skilled at it," Fallon dryly asides to Farland. "If the rest of you really want to lodge at a chairless temple with an irritating elf, fine. Don't blame me if wake up with a crick in your neck."
"I do not mind staying here if needed, it is one night." Seyardu adds. "But yes, Ramirez should be informed of what will be going on. We will likely have need of him tomorrow anyways, regardless."
So the good news is that you're finally able to convince the Navosian that it's best for you t4o sleep in your own rooms. This means you can finally -- FINALLY -- get out of the horrible cloth4es that you've been consigned to suffer the desert heat under.
That's the good news.
The bad news is that it's about five hours into your rest that your doors are being knocked on by someone. Several someones, actually.
The door opens forcefully to a heavily scared mul with mad bedhead and a bloodshot eyed, annoyed look about her. Someone better start explaining quickly, as one wrong word would end up with a door shoved in their face.
From within the room, Seyardu stirred from beneath the sheets and sat up in the bed, blinking just a bit as the door was knocked on.
"Yes, what is it that you need?" She called back to the door.
There is a snort and other semi-conscious noises as the dark skinned Lucht Siuil awakens. She has quietly crossed the room and leans against the door. For the moment, it is not opened. She sounds like she is yawning as she asks, "The elf that take all the time earlier in the day has rush the evening ritual and now send for us?"
Another yawn, "and not send the squire?"
"You wait, I do the dressing." Thick soled feet cross back, and there is the sound of water and a washbasin, then of armour clanking.
Fallon gets his beauty sleep rudely interrupted. And he really needed it, as of late. "Go away!" He half shouts, half grumbles from his bed. "Rob us later!" Evidently, he does not expect priests to be the ones at the door. He groans and sort of just rolls over, and off, the bed.
Grumpy ranger is grumpy.
The doors are all being knocked on.
Eventually, they do get opened, right? Right.
Instead, there's Tashraani guards. A lot of them.
A whole lot of them.
"You're going to need to come with us," they say. There's a lot of guards.
Did we mention a *lot*?
Well, that was better than armed thugs. Marginally. From the floor, Fallon rolls back towards the bed -- in a half-hearted attempt to hide under it. It doesn't work. He just doesn't want to get up.
Aryia does not do well in the face of authority. She clams up, her standing ramrod straight. Slowly, she nods. And very gently closes the door in the guard's face. Aryia sprints around the room, gathering her things as her heart races. She considers breaking through the window to escape, but there was too many of them. Reluctantly, she returns to the door a bit more put together and goes with them.
She really hopes they weren't about to get shipped off to Charn.
Perhaps that cleric had hired guards to assist them? She hoped, at least. The sith'makar yawned from the door frame. It was almost frightening, really.
"Well yes, that's fine. Is everything alright?" They ask after a moment of collecting themself and their bag.
Farland is rousted from his bed too, lest you think he's avoiding the same fate, and the guards are going to escort you out. Like or not, you have to get up and go with them, unless you want to make a huge mess of things.
That would probably go very poorly.
The guards start to march you onto the street, grim-faced. No manacles, at least, so that's good. Seems they're intent on taking you down to the local guard station, though.
Lyme was enjoying his sleep! A grumpy orc isn't really a good time, but he tries to hide it. He holds his head high, working on looking proud as he's marched out.
Fallon grumbles the whole way out, but gradually wakes up. He still has spectacular bedhead, and could easily be mistaken for your run-of-the-mill criminal. Nothing unusual here, folks. "So many of you..." He mutters. "I guess chasing after pickpockets just isn't exciting enough for the lot of you? Or are they too quick?"
Seyardu had no reason not to comply, yet. The only concern was of the priest who may be looking for them later, maybe. They weren't certain what was going on still, but complying with the armed guards seemed like the best course of action.
"If there is something the matter, you can explain what the problem is to me, and I will do my best to resolve it." She says to one of the guards.
Paenitia has completed a rushed waking routine and a careful armouring up. She's not taking short-cuts on that. Finally, when everything is strapped, fastened down, tightened up, and otherwise adjusted she throws open her door and clanks out.
She marches through the guards, a wide-brimmed, red hat at waist height as she heads for the stables. She is going to get Ramirez.
This will take a little while. She needs to saddle him up, after waking him up. "This the tiny interruption, then we come along."
She might be as grim-faced as the guards, it's impossible to tell. Her mask has only the wide grin of anarchy. Deterring her might go very poorly.
As would leaving Ramirez. Who knows what mischief he might get up to. He is a wild stallion.
Aryia shakes her head at Seyardu. It was a fruitless endeavor. There's no point in trying to dissuade and placate, not with so many. They must think the party was dangerous if it took this many guards. Aryia sighs and plods along, wishing she could sleep longer and not be in this position.
When you reach the guards station, each of you is shown to a separate room. It's large enough to do so. It would appear that you're going to need to answer questions individually.
Yes, you're being separated. Each of you has a guardsman in your room. You're never alone.
Finally, each of you has a guardsmen come in to talk to you. They take your name, of course, as if they didn't already know it, and they proceed to ask you about the events of the prior day. The auction, your presence in the market place, how well you know Farland. They seem very interested in Farland, it would appear.
Your employer.
"He's under arrest, you see. Seems someone up and murdered the winner of a particular piece..." Oh boy..
