The Place: A town of humans to the south of the Rift and Goblyn City. The town is named Rivenblithe and should be considered a large town by the player characters. Although this city is fairly advanced, possessing magic and steampunk type magic, the city is not without problems. Some members of society are very well to do, but most live in exceedingly humble circumstances. Societal Ills: This town of Rivenblithe has a persistent plague known as the Screaming Fever. In a nutshell, those afflicted by the fever seem normal during the incubation period during which they are contagious. Once the fever starts, however, they slowly become more addled and bliss filled until the end stage of the disease which his characterized by screaming fits until their eyes bleed and their brains explode from internal pressure. Anyone splashed can become infected. There is no known cure, but those afflicted with the Screaming Fever can stave off their death by ingesting or injecting some of the burnt orange ooze left behind after a victim explodes. Essentially, the ichor that infects others temporarily suppresses the infection's progression. A person can exist for some time in this manner. The burnt orange colored ooze, also called fever paste, happens to also act as a drug which induces pleasure an maniacal energy levels. To process, provide, or take fever past is illegal but the law is seldom inforced as people have a hard time requiring victims of the Screaming Fever to die rather than take what will prolong their life. Many of those who are affected with this disease, however, can be quite productive workers under the influence of the drug/disease. Unfortunately, those who die tend to linger behind as ghosts.. echos of their former selves with no real memory of having died. Ergo, the town is also a popular destination for exorcists or people of similar background. Your Characters: Rivenblithe is a natural stopping point before the final carriage ride to the Rift. It is a place where hopeful adventurers stop.. with some concern. The city does not want travellers to cease coming to Rivenblithe, so they have established certain locations and taverns for out of towners who might be concerned with encountering the Feverborne. The tavern where you have been directed is rather blandly known as the "Stag" and is entirely unexceptional in appearance.
The saloon style doors swing on their hinges as you step inside. Before you, several grizzly mercenaries sit at various tables. A piper plays near to the fireplace, but he does not seem to have accumulated much of a crowd. The barkeep nods in your direction, demonstrating polite awareness of your entrance. A nondescript looking barmaid approaches and directs you to a table. After taking your orders, she returns to the bar.
The liquor at the establishment consists of your traditional variety, nothing too exotic or special. Certainly no dwarven ale or elvish wine. The food is rather bland, pretty much the stable potato soup, mutton, and boiled carrots common to the diet of people in this region. The tables have been carved in bits of graffiti from those who have preceded you.
Of the patrons, little serves to draw your interest except for one man who may be a wizard off to the eastern edge of the room and two burly men who seem to be taunting or picking on a young acolyte of some kind. They have the look of seasoned mercs, so it may do well to approach them with caution. The modest bullying the acolyte has been subjected to does not seem particularly grievous. At the moment, the slightly effeminate acolyte is being pushed back in forth between the two muscular men. He seems to be some combination of half-afraid and half-attracted. They, in turn, seem half lecherous and half disgusted by the effeminate one. Things might turn ugly, but they haven't done so yet.
Rik casually examines the bar while he his fingers play with his new moustache. Stale beer and sticky tables. The room seems all too familiar to him. It seems like many others that he and Rex had slummed in these past few years, at least before he was forced to flee.
His finger casually traces the edge of his glass as he looks around. He watches with a sense of sadness as a young fool is bullied by two larger thugs. That kid should get outta here before they get tired of playing with him. Unfortunately he doubts the young acolyte will. He's seen it happen before.
Rik makes a quick mental note of the others in the bar - a few mercenaries and a wizard perhaps. Better watch that one, no knowing what a wizard might do.
Rik looks up as Rex finally takes a seat at the table. "Cheers.Rex." The young rogue tilts his glass and is soon comforted by the taste of the cheap beer. He looks down at his purse and frowns. "Coin's starting to run low. Might have to earn some coin before long, but I don't think my stories wouldn't squeeze more than a copper out o'this crowd."
He then looks up again and is starting to get worried for the acoloyte. "...mind you, maybe a story would distract the thugs from their play thing before things get out of hand."
With a quick smile to Rex, he leaves the table and wanders across to the piper by the fire. He throws the piper a silver, "I'm about to tell the tale of Gerad and the 3 sisters. Play something suitable." Feeling that he's in his element, Rik begins to tell the tale of the hero Gerad who is courted by three sisters, each intent on winning the hero's gold. In the end Gerad out smarts all three but still ends up loosing his gold through some folly related to the ladies. It's a popular tavern tale, particularly when told with the many lurid emblishments that Rik liberally sprinkles into his telling.
Rik's performance serves well enough to entertain the roughnecks who've been tormenting the acolyte. One of the two, with a more orcish cast to his features stands and steps forward. While his features seem hard to read originally, they soften. He shakes his head, "I like stories where people die."
The piper standing behind Rik seems a little slighted, perhaps disgruntled. He pockets the silver coin given to him, but seems to sit stiffly on his stool. "That's Gerard, bad temper, worse tipper, and his tastes are no more popular than he is himself."
He shrugs at the rest of the crowd, "The men around here have enough hardship, they just want drink and relative quite. If you intent to create trouble, just tell me now so I can pack up before I get another flute broken."
"We're not here for trouble, friend," Rex said in reply to the piper's words, coming up and slipping another silver into the man's hand. "Come and join us for a chat, and the drink's on us." Rex waved towards the table.
"Let my friend wet his throat," Rex stated to the orcish man Gerard with a friendly grin, "And something for yourselves as well. Barkeep! Two drinks for these gentlemen here on me." Rex pointed to the pair of roughnecks. Rex wasn't the world's most generous man, but if nothing else they'd learned grovelling around late night sleazy dens, it was knowing when to say goodbye to pieces of precious metal - before they said goodbye to infinitely more precious pieces of themselves.
Rex carried on in soft voice for the piper's ear's only as he went to sit back down. "Well met, Rex is my name. We'd be interested in news and tales on the Rift, and tip well for worthy information."
Carella hesitates to order much of anything from the barmaid. She finally caves and orders elvish wine with a simple meal. She has always felt strange eating food prepared by others, especially when that food consists of meat caught by others. For someone used to hunting all her own food, the experience of eating out is strange to her.
As she sits quietly in the inn, she can't help but smile at the ribbing the acolyte is receiving. She resists temptations to join in the ribbing on both sides. Her experience tells her that getting involved in arguments not her own is always a bad idea. Just in case, she fingers her kukris, making sure they aren't stuck in their sheathes in case things turn ugly. As she contemplates the situation, Carella realizes that she has no idea whether weapons are considered acceptable in bar fights or not. The rules of civilization seem to vary and she rarely has time for dealing with the annoying subtleties. Still, it can't hurt to be ready in case things get ugly.
Carella is impressed by Rik's performance and relaxes as the situation seems to settle down. It's not his skill, but rather his clever use of a distraction to dispel the situation. While similar tricks are useful with animals, she isn't too familiar with tricks for dealing with people. She stays silent as Rex and Rik invite Gerard over to join them, then she scoots closer to hear their conversation. When Gerard joins them, Carella smiles at him.
"Please go on. I too am interested in information on the rift." She reaches into her pockets and mentally tallies up her money. With the cost of dinner and the offers of tips for information she has no doubt her few coins won't go very far. For perhaps the hundredth time, she scolds herself for buying such an expensive bow.
"Oh, and feel free to leave out the embellishments our friend here likes to include in his stories." she smiles over at Rik. "We all know he wishes he was Gerad from his story!"
There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. - Sherlock Holmes
The piper pauses a moment, but for only a moment before accepting the silver from Rex. "A gift demands a gift in return, that is the message of the rune of Gebo. Harmoneous exchange."
Gerard, the roughneck, just snatches up the coin offered to him and returns to his table and another particularly cheap drink. He seems to have lost interest in Rix for the moment at least.
The piper relaxes as the roughneck's back is turned. "Some people may not seek trouble, but it certainly tends to hang about them like a cloud of ill omen. A bard I heard about, surname Stargazer, suggested this was the doing of Paradox.. which fit into his pet theories of magic."
The piper gestures for the interested parties to gather round, prefering to remain on the stage instead of retreating to a table. He speaks as if his words are a story intended to be heard by any with a particular interest. "Magic defies the laws of the mundane world, but not without a certain consequence or taint. Too much magical meddling and a certain backlash which Stargazer called Paradox rises to the surface. Every once in again, a bit of Paradox latches on to one person or another.. leading them to lead a most interesting life. Interesting is not always a good thing."
The piper looks at the three before him, "You have the cloud of misfortune about you. The oddest of coincidences are possible around you. You might be heroes, villans, or merely star-crossed. Only time will tell, but I fortell not a one of you three will live a quiet life of simple labor. You will be like Cu Chulainn, foretold to have a heroic but brief life."
The piper gestures in a dismissive way, "Which certainly seems to be the way of those who seek the Rift. If the Rift wants you, the Rift will have you. Pardox, you see, if it can be believed, twists around on a copper. The Rift sweeps up the stray bits of Paradox, brushing them under the rug if you will. It is a place where people like you will find either greatness or an early death. Sometimes both."
The piper nods in Carella's direction, "As you've mentioned, Gerard the roughneck's name and Gerad from Rix's story are very similar sounding names. Given a few moments, I wonder if the mercenary will make that connection and wonder what you meant in telling that story."
Rex, mindful of the hint that their time with the piper might be short before Gerard got back on their case, quickly pulled out another coin with a sardonic grin. "How about a little more of that harmonious exchange, and give us a hint or two about how to avoid the early death bit."
Rex took a moment to think along the paths of the ghostly dragonic voices in his mind, wondering just who or what this Paradox might be, and for whatever the rune of Grebo is.
OOC: will try a knowledge religion check for the rune of Grebo. And a knowledge arcane roll on Paradox
Rex, mindful of the hint that their time with the piper might be short before Gerard got back on their case, quickly pulled out another coin with a sardonic grin. "How about a little more of that harmonious exchange, and give us a hint or two about how to avoid the early death bit."
Rex took a moment to think along the paths of the ghostly dragonic voices in his mind, wondering just who or what this Paradox might be, and for whatever the rune of Grebo is.
OOC: will try a knowledge religion check for the rune of Grebo. And a knowledge arcane roll on Paradox
BUT invisible castle seems to be down...
The piper seems in a better mood than a minute ago, but cannot take the coin offered. "The rune, Gebo, means an eschange of gifts. You've asked about avoiding the early death part and I can't really give you the answer you desire. You can live a long and boring life... get married, work a farm, and the like or you can move onward with a more adventuresome one. I could be wrong about you, but I expect you are compelled to a more active and less sedentary life. For example, you have expressed an interest in the Rift, which is not known for drawing carpenters or cobblers from far and wide."
(See notes)
From across the room, the wizard takes note of the gist of the conversation and takes it upon himself to provide a scholarly explaination of Paradox. "In the world that once was, there was no magic to be found. In that time, men were as animals and possessed no reason. An animal learns of the world through trial and error, but such lessons are lost when the animal dies. Mankind developed the ability to communicate with words. This assisted man with learning from other men instead of personal experience. Still, learning only occurred between those who could meet and share. Then mankind developed writting with the Runes, a gift from the Wise One, Odinn. Written words could pass knowledge far and wide, allowing one to learn even from wise men long dead.
"Brute animals had abilities, strength, speed, wit. Primitive man developed crafts with which to build fire or make simple shelters. As man advanced they learned secret knowledge which they called technology. Further advancement in mithic ages of old created high technology. And then, they pierced the veil of reality itself.
"Imagine a glass of water with oil poured on top. Oil and water don't mix. The layer of oil can be very thin, but stretches across the surface of the water completely. The layer of oil is our reality and all craft and technology involved understanding how to do things within that layer of oil by understanding the rules by which the layer of oil operates. A new technology came into being called Strange Tech, this involved mankind being able to manipulate the layer of reality below the oil. In essese, instead of working with the rules of reality, they were able to alter the rules of reality to suit their purposes.
"They bent the rules of causation by piercing the boundry of time. They created time travel, as if I could walk into yesterday. But Time is a Beast which resents alteration. Paradox is that force by which Time protects the Rules of Causation. Paradox unweaves changes mankind tried to make.
"Fortunately for man, unfortunately for nature, no example of pure perfection exists within the known universe. Paradox can only approximate unworking mankind's efforts to change the past. Mankind learned now to manipulate Paradox's messyness, or lack of perfection, to make changes they desired in reality itself.
"But, according to some, little wiffs of paradox still spin off into wild and unpreditable vortexes whenever mankind uses too much magic in once place. This, in essense, is the theory of Paradox."
Carella focuses in on the early death mentioned by the piper. Death is something familiar to someone who spends so much time in nature. However, she had always planned on marriage, even if such a thing seemed highly unlikely given her migratory lifestyle.
About to speak out about not receiving any useful information about avoiding an early death, Carella is pre-empted by the wizard's explanation of the Paradox and Rex's question. While magical matters are far less familiar to her than her current companions, her keen wit is enough to allow her to follow the explanation. Of course, she is unable to verify anything that is said as she has no background in such matters.
As she listens, she realizes how little she actually knows about reality itself. While Carella has always made a point of separating herself from animals - to the point of being unable to bond with one - she has never though of manipulating the rules of reality.
"So if we want to leave the Rift and it wants us we're out of luck?" Carella asks the wizard, though her eyes stay on the piper. She quickly glances at Rex and Rik for guidance. Matters of metaphysics seem to be more of Rex's area of expertise, so she is hesitant to ask more questions in case he has something more relevant that her questions would get in the way of.
There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. - Sherlock Holmes
Carella focuses in on the early death mentioned by the piper. Death is something familiar to someone who spends so much time in nature. However, she had always planned on marriage, even if such a thing seemed highly unlikely given her migratory lifestyle.
About to speak out about not receiving any useful information about avoiding an early death, Carella is pre-empted by the wizard's explanation of the Paradox and Rex's question. While magical matters are far less familiar to her than her current companions, her keen wit is enough to allow her to follow the explanation. Of course, she is unable to verify anything that is said as she has no background in such matters.
As she listens, she realizes how little she actually knows about reality itself. While Carella has always made a point of separating herself from animals - to the point of being unable to bond with one - she has never though of manipulating the rules of reality.
"So if we want to leave the Rift and it wants us we're out of luck?" Carella asks the wizard, though her eyes stay on the piper. She quickly glances at Rex and Rik for guidance. Matters of metaphysics seem to be more of Rex's area of expertise, so she is hesitant to ask more questions in case he has something more relevant that her questions would get in the way of.
The wizard answers Carella's question, "Oh, don't make too much of this poet's nonsense. If you don't choose a life of aventure no magical force is going to compell you to do so. Well, it's unlikely anyway. I did hear of one of the Spirit People who was a supposed incarnation of Paradox. But that is like enough a storybook rationalization for this Contrarywise person's inability to decide if they were good or evil at heart. That is to say, this Wyse character blamed his lack of focus on Paradox."
The piper scowls at the wizard. "Some people are compelled to a life of adventure, it's true! But I suppose I might be over-stating the point. I am a bard after all. I don't righly imagine the Rift will keep you a prisoner.. not in any way obvious even if it does. No skeletal hands will rise up out of the muck to hold your ankles and you won't be charmed into obediance."
The wizard agrees with the piper on this matter, giving a pert nod. "This said, wizards can sometimes feel Paradox at work. Like an irritating itch in some place you can't quite name. If Paradox is more than a wizardly version of a superstition, then the bard and I both agree on the point that it seems Paradox flows around you three and influences your life and circumstances. We dissagree on the early death part."
Again, the piper seems displeased. "A life of adventure can be a short, tragic one. I suppose my perspective might be biased. The greatest romance stories tend to end before the hero and heroine have to change many diapers or argue about who's taking out the trash."
