Where we at folks?   

Dane moved to the edge of the confrontation with one hand on his quiver and the other holding his bow ready to get involved if needed, but really just hoping for information.  And he got it.  At least some.  For one, he learned that one of the guards (unfortuantely named Dain also!) was a complete blow-hard.  He clearly thought a lot of himself and just as clearly had little to think highly of.  But the other guard, the one named Jandran, was the kind of man you wanted working for the law.  If more agents of law and order had his attitude the wheel might spin a little easier.  Or at least not crush as many of those beneath the metaphorical wheel. As expected, he was just a guard doing his duty.  But a guard who understood the difficulties of the situation.  Dane didn't like the situation.  It seemed unlikely that a serving girl had murdered an aes Sedai, at least not without some powerful outside influence.  Especially when those who seemed to know the girl thought her entirely gentle.  That was not the description one usually got of a darkfriend.  

And yet, someone had been murdered and there was evidence of a sort.  And an aes Sedai!  Dane had absoltuely no interest in getting mixed up with one of them.  Aes Sedai were only slightly better then White Cloaks and that was a damning statement.  And if one had been murdered it was almost certain that others would soon be on the scene.  No, Dane wanted nothing to do with this.  Nothing at all. 

He started to step back towards the inn when one of the women asked for aid in figuring out what had happened.  One of the two men up front, the ranger-looking type, stomped off to the inn refusing to participate. Dane's feet itched to follow him.  But, it just seemed doubtful that the servant was involved.  And what were the odds that a lord and aes Sedai would provide justice for a poor common girl?  Just the thought of it was enough for Dane to feel his anger rising.  But getting involved was crazy.  

And one of these women could channel.  She had offered to heal the old lady.  Dane looked at her closely and fought the urge to run.  Damn aes Sadai!  They were everywhere.  He'd have to guard himself carefully.  But still, the pull to do the right thing was strong.  He just wasn't quite sure yet what the right thing was.  Again, he needed information.  

He heard all of the comments:  the threats, the offer to heal, the request to help, the refusal and the suggestion of food.  He had been silent so far and wasn't even sure if the others were fully aware of his presence.  He moved a bit forward onto the steps of the inn and spoke up.  "Yes, aid may be needed.  But we don't know much.  The gentleman made a good suggestion when he proposed a meal in the Gleeman's Abode - it seems we were all heading there anyway.  Perhaps Mistress Velalin you would accompany us into the inn?  I don't think chasing down the good guardsman will do anyone any good right now, least of all the young lady.  But at the very least your exploits on her behalf this evening have attracted our atention.  Perhaps over a meal you could tell us more so that we might better understand the situation and formulate a plan to help the young lady.  Even going to the guardhouse won't do any good just yet."  Dane looked at the rest of the group.  "Anyone else tired, hungry and looking for more information before jumping feet first into a hornets nest?"  Without waitng for a response he looks at the injured woman in the street.  "And you Mistress Velalin?   Some food and a chance to convince us of your servants plight?"

That dance is SO Eol.  Just needs a bit of a towel for mopping up.  

Dane post forthcoming.

Blowz was rather proud of his idea to get the jackobot to divulge the mission number before getting everyone zapped this time.  It should work.  Surely that was one of the reasons the jackobot was there.  But then a couple of others referenced the bot 'losing' the number.  When had it said it had lost it?  It had just never done anything helpful (like give the mission #!) unless specifically asked for it.  So Blowz had asked for it.  He was curious who was right. 

He was less curious about the outcome of Steam's threats.  Threats to friend computer's workers were another type of standard event which frequently lead to another type of standard event which frequently generated a certain type of standard reaction from those around the event who were trying to keep their lunch on the inside.  When they couldn't, that was another type of messy event.  None of those events or reactions were they type of event that Blowz particularly wanted to be a part of.  So he looked to the jackobot to answer his question and stepped politely back from Steam and stock-BOY to give the jackobot room and himself space from the inevitable 'eventing.' 

Ah, life in the wonderful world of the computer. A place where so many completely predictable events happened, and yet you never really knew what would blow up next.  Yep, Blowz was a good name . . . 

Nice!

I missed the new post!  Very glad to see the game alive and I will try to get a post in within a day or so.  A good day!  Kheric lives to hunt candy again!

I don't think so.  But it was an awesome game.  Too bad it seems to have died.  

I missed a post!  Dang.  Sorry about that.  All those trek posts cycling through means it got through the recent posts without my noticing it.  I'm surprised my friendly computer did not alert me to the problem.  Friend computer would never provide me with inadequate information.  

A new post is now up.

The hoverbot finally came to a merciful landing in front of the PLC.  Really, though, given the circumstances it seemed that clone Steam had actually done a remarkable job.  They weren't dead after all.  Well, one clone was.  But such things were standard events afterall, so it was hard not to expect an occaisonal complete and total slicing and dicing.  No doubt it was the most efficient way to recycle a clone anyway.  Start with puree.  

Once inside the PLC Blowz saw long lines of clone after clone after clone after clone.  Given the incredible importance of their mission (What exactly was it again?) he thought briefly about trying to move to the front of the line.  Surely not everyone was equal here.  But even before he moved a foot he had already rethought the whole plan.  Everyone had seen the lasers when they entered the room.  Lasers were part of another standard event that he would rather avoid.  The wisdom of this choice was quickly illustrated when an orange clone attempted to move up and was promptly "standard evented."  Nobody around the orange was even surprised, they simply moved away to provide the body room to topple.  

Also standard was the sense of frustration that everyone in the group felt when STOCK-boy seemed ready to turn them away because they lacked the standard mission number.  Blowz knew about this problem.  He had felt the shock of that particular standard event before.  He quickly turned to the jackobot and said, "Jackzie, Ze Mizzion nomber.  Zu punched it inzu se dorz beforz.  Zu muzt knowz it.  Tellz se nizz zuperiorz clonz ze numberz.  Yez?" 

Blowz knew he didn't know the mission number.  But there was a number and friend computer had provided them with something that did know.  Certainly friend computer providing them with the tools needed for their mission was a standard event as well, yez?  

As his radio sqauked Fixer heard Vegas ask about the others in the squad.  

"What has the other radio?  Did we lose the others?"  

He thought a bit and was worried.  ""We need ot move - we have two tasks that can not wait.  1.  That hardware needs to be examined.  Pronto.  We need to search it and then ditch it.  It might be traceable and we don't want it in our posession once somebody spots that little door we just made.  So find a place where the lady can do her magic in private and then dump the junk.  And hopefully that tells us where to go next because we need some sort of clue soon or we have an even bigger problem.  2.  If we lost the others they know who we are and what we were doing.  We are out of the building - I don't want to get dragged back into it.  We need to make sure the whole team splits this block fast."

He looked at Vegas and Casino.  "This is your show now.  What's the plan?"  

It had been a long day like many other long days and Dane Merriweather looked forward to an evening at an inn.  A decent meal, a bit of relaxation and a bed - hopefully good, at least decent, and at worst not a pile of hay to tuck into.  Long days in the woods and on the move made a man look forward to such things.  He wasn’t exactly sure where he would go next, but that was likely to work itself out anyway.

As he approached the inn, a modest place called the Gleeman’s Abode, he was surprised to find himself coming together with 5 others at the front door.  Maeldon had hardly seemed a likely place for a traffic jam, but here one was, and on the doorstep of Dane’s respite as well.  He generally liked the moderately sized inns.  They weren’t run down, but they also didn’t have fancy pants filling the common room and didn’t cost a week’s wages to get a bed.  Plus, they usually had good, solid regular folk running them.  The Gleeman had looked like just such an inn which was why the hunter had turned his weary feet in that direction, but then just as he was arriving at the front door the city seemed to fling forth a crowd right at it’s door.  It was all rather inconvenient in the opinion of the small hunter. 

"Noooo! You cannot take her, please! No! Please!"

Dane whirled at the sound of a woman crying and yelling with one hand instinctively reaching for an arrow to slip into his bow.   In front of her was a dilemma.  A young woman was being dragged off by guards.  Clearly she wasn’t able to say much herself, but the older woman following her was crying out in protest.  That couldn’t be good.  Yet these were guards.  And sometimes city guards actually did decent work.  Sometimes people actually needed to be taken in.  Plus, it was rarely a good practice to get oneself in trouble with the local law.  And it rarely led to a relaxed evening in an inn and a comfortable bed at the end of the night. 

Yet something about the scene in front of him did not feel right.  What could the young woman have done?  As he tried to decide what to do, two of those with whom he was sharing the inn’s doorway moved to the woman’s aid.

"Where I come from, you don't strike an old woman, coward!"

“And where I come from,” a man said, fingers drumming absently on the leather twined hilt of his blade, as a wry smile curls the tips of his mustaches upward, “neither does a man drag an unconscious woman toward a destination she wishes not to go.”

Dane wasn’t sure what he thought about the situation.  He did not like seeing a woman mishandled in this way.  Something was up.  The problem was that he didn’t know exactly what that something was.  Luckily the actions of the two strangers offered him a chance to learn more about the situation.  Surely the guards would need to respond to these two and Dane would be able to learn more about the situation while remaining for the moment neutral.   He didn’t yet nock an arrow, but he readied his bow and put a hand to his quiver so he could draw in a heartbeat if needed.  He had no intention of shooting.  City guards just took orders and didn’t deserve to die while doing their job.  But just the threat of a shot or a well-placed warning could change a situation.  He moved to the corner of the building so that he could easily see the situation develop and hear how the guards responded. 

He wasn’t in the middle of this yet, but he might be soon.  The thought did not comfort him.  His father would have spouted something about the wheel weaving as the wheel wanted and just the thought was enough to make the small woodsman shake his head as he moved.  The wheel wouldn’t decide if he got caught in this tangled thread; he would. 

He just had to decide what to do. 

If there was a question about this thing, Blowz has yet to Blowz anything up yet.  The game must not stop.  Nyet!

Dane Merriweather

Amadician woodsman - hunter, tracker, bowman kinda thing.  

At this point I think we'd need a few people able to take over characters or old players speaking up and saying they can pick things up again.  This probably isn't a perfect starting point since it is a high level game, but it might work.  Lets see fi anyone else is interested.  

Dragon Soul  

You seem to be new here and reading all over the place.  There are a few fantasy related games that might be looking for characters if you are interested.  

What else did you want to chat about?

Nomad

Hey!

I was just mesagin with the DM of this game about trying to get it going again.  We took a break for awhile because we were short players, but I'd really love to see this game revived.  It is the longest running game on the inn - something like 13 years.  

Anyone else want to join Trilogy?  It is a very good high-level D&D game.  There are a variety of character types available.  

Eol,

As long as someone can wheel you to the keyboard and read it to you, we are ok with it.  There is nothing wrong with getting older.  You don't need to defend yourself.  Just sip your slushy and type away . . . 

Ok, I liked that last comment! 

And I got my character concept in so I think we are headed in the right direction.

Ortolf couldn’t prevent a smile as the big Tortle took a seat on the floor and poked his head over the table.  The look was vaguely comical, and yet also obviously the most logical.  He listened as the Ghiberti spoke of his team. 

"My team and I, the group of us, it is not my team but we are a team, have come because of the goblins. The Blacktooth tribes are ranging far, displacing all sorts groups. My own tribe of tortles is being raided by all sorts of creatures. My Tribe sent me on to see if I could help stop the raids and bring back peace to our part of the swamps. My group, our group, is here to help and this town and tavern seems like a place to start. What do you know of these goblins?"

Ortlof might have been taken aback by the directness of the turtle’s comments, but it had been obvious from the look of the entire “team” that they were not your usual farmers or merchants.  He pondered the question for a moment and then spoke.  “Personally, I don’t know much detail, as I sit here for much of my day.  But that also means I hear a lot of rumors.  The goblins?  Yes, we have been having some trouble with them lately.  Merchants caravans are getting raided.  Supplies can be hard to get.  Stock has gone missing.  And the Molkin twins, two local boys, up and disappeared a fortnight ago.  That coulda been goblins.  Under the circumstances it seems most likely.  People are blaming goblins for everything right now.”

After listening Ghiberti asks, "Is there anyone here who has fought them recently?"

“Fought ‘em?  No, I don’t think so.  We got a sheriff and a couple deputies.  They have been investigating a bit, but I doubt they have fought anything.  At least I haven’t heard such.   The Baron might know.” 

Ghilberti carefully takes the mug and takes a sip. "Is there someone here in your town we should address for advice to proceed, someone managing groups like us?"

“Well, I guess you got two places to go.  There is the sheriff- that’d be von Bedering.  His place is just a block south.  Or you can try the keep.  No telling what reception you will get there.  The old Baron ain’t well and the youngin’ is  . . . unpredictable.”  He seemed to pause, uncertain if he should go further, but was saved from needing to respond by the Tortle’s next question.

"Could you introduce us? I'd like to begin as soon as possible. There are lives to save, and evil is abound!"

The tavern keeper smiled.  “Introduce you?  To which one?  The sheriff or the Baron?  One, yes, the other, not so much.”  He paused for a drink from his own mug of sludge.  “Anyone can point you to the sheriff or just hang around and likely as not one of ‘em will show up here.  As for the Baron, just go up the keep.  I might wait till sunrise but if the kid wants to meet you he will and if’n he don’t he won’t.  It’s a shame.”

Ortolf s finished his mug at that and raised it with a smile to his daughter who was running around the room working.  She nodded and returned shortly with another.  Lora, who had been listening to the conversation took the chance to ask a question of her own about where they should visit.  The barmaid laughed a little and said, “Are yah tourists now?  That isn’t what I’d have taken ya for.”  But she paused and gave the question a bit of thought.  “Well, we got a keep and a chancel, like most towns in the wilds.  Well, actually, a better keep then most, I suspect.  Not that I’m an expert in these things, but I don’t think there is another closer then Ludensheim.  Not that the keep is anything exciting to see.  Just a pig in a poke.”  She paused again.  “Well, the sacred grove up on the hill might be more interesting then the chapel.  The old oak is quite old.  And there is a tinkers caravan in town at the moment of you like those.  But then you lot may have travelled more’n those tinkers.”

Across the room Piq wandered around listening to conversation and looking for untended objects until his path led him back to the halfling table by the window.  He announced himself with a rather straight-forward “what’s up with the goblins?”

The question caused a bit of a surprise from those gathered who had been busy discussing crops and weather.  Tubers had been the dominant theme before the topic was changed to malignant monsters.  One of the group introduced himself.  “Welcome stranger with even stranger travelling companions.  We were hoping you’d join us and offer some news of the outside world.  Even tuber-talk can get boring.”  He grinned at what he obviously thought was a joke.  “I’m Will Whitfield.  The goblins?  They seem to be raiding more and more frequently lately.  Always a bit of a risk this far out into the woods, but over the last few months they seem to have really come alive.  Caravans and herds, all seem to be getting hit.  Even a couple of local human lads got themselves up and taken recently.  The Molkins.  Everyone’s talkin’ ‘bout it, even if nobody really knows anything.  Where you come from?  See anything of interest on the way in?

The other three members of the group, Galydon, Tordek and Bogart, took less active paths in their information gathering.  As they listened they heard a lot of talk about vegetables, quite a bit about sheep and a bit about goblins.  A few snippets caught their attention. 

“Those Ludensheimer’s want a war!” 

“Daemons is out at night; watch you feed ‘em well!”

“The Baron’s crazy!”

“Ol’ Bills tubers is unnatural big!  The faeries . . . “

“Tinkers is thieves!”

“Ol’ lady Molkin, she been crying most of the last week.  Hard to see it . . .”

“I know one thing only, the Witch King is back.” 

“Never trust them little ones.  Had a wine there once . . .”

“You ever seen anything like those strangers?  Now that’s a sight.”

And many more . . .

Fixer grunted in frustration when the door refused to open.  But he kept at it and his persistance paid off.  Quickly the door popped open and the techie stepped aside to let the muscle check out the room.  Blossom quickly followed the others and set about doing her magic on the computers.  Fixer was tempted to look over her shoulder as he could probably learn quite a bit doing so, but decided that she might not appreciate the scrutiny.  Instead he quickly glanced through the nearby cubicles looking for anything that might be interesting.  He wasn't looking to steal - he wanted information.  Was there any chance of useful technology or even a file left out in the open.  He doubted it, but it was either that or sit around twiddling his fingers.  Casino already had the door watched so there wasn't anything else to do there.  (He does look to see if there are any other entrances to this room since that wasn't specified and the r20 map hasn't been updated yet.)  

When Blossom announced her work complete Fixer quickly moved out of the cubicle he had been searching and joined the others.  "your a wonder Blossom.  Nicely done.  Lets boogey."  He moved to the door and out into the hallway. Now they just needed to get out of this building.  He gave a quick thumbs up to Bloodbank who he knew was nervous about the side effects of their invasion and moved down the hall.  A quick look around to see if anyone had spotted their new entrance.  Not that it mattered really, what were they going to do, try a different door?   Out the window - being careful again to not mess with the electronics.  Then quickly down the fire escape.  Easy peasy.  Or something like that.   

"BING!" the hoverbot announces in its warm, feminine tone. "Standard event number six detected: one of the crew has unfortunately fallen to their deaths. Please stand by while a replacement clone is summoned."

As the vehicle settled down to allow a replacement clone to arrive, Blowz gradually released his death grip on the frindliness hoverbot.  He was no longer white knuckled, but it would be very wrong to say that he had let go.  Plus, at this point his knuckles were a bit too covered in little red bits of Artie to allow the expression 'white-knuckled' to apply.  Freckled was actually the description that crossed Blowz mind as bits of Artie crossed his vision.  It wasn't like this paint job hadn't been predicted.  As he held on he stared at the jackobot to see if it had been thrown around.  Perhaps the jackobot would offer a better handhold when the ride resumed then would the hoverbot itself.  

As they waited for the new clone Blowz said through still clenched teeth, "Friendliness bot.  Do you have any further instructions to aid our captain in controlling yourself?  Is there something he should know about how to turn?"  He had't even bothered with his accent.  He didn't want to risk the bot misunderstanding.  It seemed a foolish fear since the accent was awesome and perfect.  But sometimes these bots tended to forget to tell them things.  Perhaps this was why clones were superior, despite all the evidence to the contrary.  

When he was sure the machine had safely (??!!) settled to the ground he took the opportunity to wipe the Artie freckles from his face.  

Ok, reading and working on things now!  I will get this taken care of!

I don't see a reason to need a DM run character.  I wouldn't argue with it if others think it is best, but it seems clunky.

I think a two person team is perfectly doable, it just requires the DM to modify things a bit so we don't end up getting slaughtered by unnreasonable encounters.  That is likely enough just from dumb decisions.  And working out the duo-thing wont be a problem, it'll just happen.  I also don't mind running two.  It works.  Whatever.

I guess my main reaction is - of those two options (2 or 4 characters run by the players) which is the easiest for the DM?  Will modifications be complicated with only two characters?  Harder with 4?  It sounds like both Decio and I are good either way, so whichever makes the DMs life easier and increases the likelihood that he can keep things flowing the better.  

Having said all of that, I don't see a lot of reason to not at least post in the recruitment thread.  Given that we are just in town (at least for now, I guess) it seems like it would be easy to add in a new character whenever someone shows up interested.  They just arrive in town, see the notice we saw, and offer their services.  The difficulty would just seem to be the work the DM puts into helping someone get a character set up.  I don't think we wait on results for this, we just add someone if they want to join.  

I am glad to see Kheric continue to get a chance to run.  

I haven't done anything just yet for a character.  I will and hope to get something in soon.  Anything you folks think the party really needs?  I may fill a need or I may just do soemthing completely different.  Who knows.  

That is a bummer, but it is hard to argue with getting sent to a new base.  

As for the game, I'm in.  Kheric is still curious about the candy - although not in a tryin' it sort of way.  I'm ok with either a 2-person party or running two characters.  

I don't have anyone at the moment I can add to the group as a new player, although I am now starting a campaign with some new innmates so perhaps given just a little time they will become addicted and be looking for more games.  But not yet.