"Benefit of the farmhouse is that it's cold enough to kill the lizards if we leave 'em out overnight," I say. "Also we only got two tents, so unless you was looking forward to sharing with me and Valenae..."
Quote from: oblivion on May 08, 2016, 09:31:49 PMThe lady acquiesced so easily, I wonder if I've been played. Played again, I remind myself wryly. It's too late to wrest more coin, no doubt."Skeleton Hand. Scepter of Shadows." Titles like these might be bestowed on dozens of artifacts on any hillside or under the rubble of any ruin.I wrack my memory, trying to bring some focus to elusive rumors I dimly recall.[history 1d20+10 = 20+10 = 30][Noice.]As a student of history, you are more aware than the average Karrn of how tenuous the Karrnathi position was before the undead armies were first raised. But every Karrn, indeed any adult in the Five Nations, knows the bare bones of the story: Karrnath, strong in martial prowess and bravery, with all citizenry on war footing, fighting fiercely but still being gnawed away by famine, beset on all sides by well-fed armies of populous nations, civilians and soldiers alike falling rapidly to disease, hunger, and enemy weapons. And then, a brilliant masterstroke: turning this weakness into an indomitable strength - armies of soldiers who that don't need food, that don't feel pain, whose number swell ever greater with every living person who falls. This is true enough, if coated now in a layer of mythologizing and oversimplification, but you know that in the early days, the art and science of necromancy was not the clean, regimented thing the Karrnathi military practices today, taught in academies, regulated by law. It was a few naturally talented individuals and taboo breakers driving the endeavor, and more often than not, they seized upon whatever fell magics and powers they could, by whatever foul means required. Wasn't the Skeleton Hand the name of the legendary weapon of some warlord of that period? You're uncertain - this recollection has a few holes in it, not the least of which is that Rose speaks as though this were an artifact from some bygone era, not the last century, and the fact that the name Skeleton Hand is the kind of grim bravado a Karrnathi warlord might come up with of from his own imagination, no connection necessarily needed to this particular object. But it might be a place to begin research, at least. Should you find somewhere one could conduct such research.
The lady acquiesced so easily, I wonder if I've been played. Played again, I remind myself wryly. It's too late to wrest more coin, no doubt."Skeleton Hand. Scepter of Shadows." Titles like these might be bestowed on dozens of artifacts on any hillside or under the rubble of any ruin.I wrack my memory, trying to bring some focus to elusive rumors I dimly recall.[history 1d20+10 = 20+10 = 30]
An antiquity that might date back to the very dawn of the Dead. Even if I could pass up the coin, what could be learned from such an artifact?I squelch rising excitement about the job, but I'm hooked like a river fish. I shrug "I'll do it."
I shrug at the comment about my rank and reach for the portfolio. "Not cut out for the military, but it's...inescapable. For now."Flipping through the maps, I ask, "Where do I meet the party?"
"As for a cover story, posing as traveling mercenaries creates potential conflict with local constabularies, sentries and patrols."I consider Olegov for a moment."However, a vassal of Kol Korran would travel with a security attachment, especially if he were transporting an important spiritual artifact, " I look toward Mari, "to a remote temple for re-dedication."I shrug. "It's worked before."
"Hm. Oleg? Could we pull that sort of ruse off easily? I do speak Dwarven, as do others among us, so there's that as some degree of confirmation."
"Don't push your luck Mari. I don't want to wake up with the youngling picking my pocket on her way to execute a clever plan involving bottomless lakes or some such."
I spin to face the ghost, my eyes narrowed. "You're gonna leave the people there alone," I say flatly, speaking directly to her for the first - only, if it's up to me - time. "Anyone else we meet too. You aint gonna... gonna make 'em think that maybe ghosts aint so bad after all, that maybe it's safe for 'em to mess with your kind. I aint gonna let you get anyone killed, not when we're here or after we left, so just watch yourself."
"Let's see. Korunda Gate lies in the general direction we are traveling. As a sizable dwarven city with a large Kundarak enclave, there are bound to be multiple temples to Kol Korran there. That could be our destination, if anybody asks."
I put my hand up to halt the group and twist around in my saddle. "Plausible enough? By this story Yourself, Valenae, Pepper and me are explained. Why are we hauling along a girl too young to have enlisted? Someone's daughter? Pepper's, or mine, brought along for the cultural experience?" I may sound mildly sarcastic, but a few shared details matter if you're going to offer a group-supported subterfuge.
"Pepper! A fast recon around the farm, if you would."