Roleplaying > Tales of Asydia

[Asydia] Humble Beginnings

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Ancient Gamer:
Auxzali kept to the back, a bit shameful of his poor fighting skills. Saying nothing he listened in on the dialogue.

Sorry I took so long. Assuming nothing more: let's get to the good stuff! :twisted:

Zelas' skills at skinning were not the best, nor was an ouzala the best tool for the job. He made some errors, but in the end managed to gain some salvageable skins. With his close contact with the croc, he noticed a tag attached to both right ears of the croc, the most complete of which read "Subject 27- if found, return to..." The rest of which was either faded or ripped off both.

you get two croc skins for your trouble, worth 30 gp each.

Tamyra waited for them to finish administering and resting from the combat, and then waved them on, the weight of debt burdening her as she trudged on. The swamp proved to be difficult on their musceles, though they could tell that the place where they fought the croc was more than halfway.

Though they kept their eyes out for other such beasts, no new threats emerged. Except for that one time where Nim startled a bird with an errant footstep, but it flew off, with an almost accusatory glare at the sorceress, the swamp was silent.


They did indeed arrive at Werstone around noon. The sun glared down at them oppresively as the tracked mud and swamp-plants down the city streets. Still suspicious of Tamyra and the Werstonians, they kept their eyes out for ambush, but all was silent. Indeed, almost too silent- they saw not a soul as they trudged down the streets, except for the odd glance of a child's face pressed against a window.

They quickly came upon the town square and Demy-Sefrab, who stood alone and was pacing in impatience. When he saw them, he paused, and took an almost half-step towards them, before stopping and waiting for them to approach.

When they stood before him, in easy talking range, he blurted out "did you get it? Did you get the chest?" And then, almost as an afterthought, he added "and where is Tar-Sul?"

Nim sighed again, taking a deep breath.  "I believe you asked us to find Tar-Sul? Apparently that was not as important as it seemed."

Demy-Sefrab sighed deeply, and rolled his eyes. "Look," he said, exasperated. "I would really like some answers right about now. Tami, do you have any such answers, as they seem less than helpful in that regard?"

"Tar-Sul is dead," Tamyra responded. "A two-headed crocodile took a bite out of him as we returned, and he fled in terror. The swamp has him now. As for the chest, they refused to tell me as well, saying that they wanted answers of their own before they responded to our questions. I figured it'd be best if you told them what had occurred. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go scout, to see if they're here yet, to see how much time we have."

Tamyra disappeared into the town, heading down South Street, lightly jogging, as Demy-Sefrab turned to the rest of them.

"You want to know what happened, then? Aye, I have answers for you. I hope you'll tell me your side of the story after I tell you mine," Demy-Sefrab began. "I sent you to get Tar-Sul to get the chest, which I hope to Ilaxas you found. But that is the middle of this sorry affair, and I should start at the beginning. Abdul-il-Weli came to town about a week ago. Nice chap, for a tax collector. It is that time of the year again, and it is time for our tribute for the Khira to be taken to Gamma-Sol. So, as usual, I presented Abdul with the list of all the taxes the citizens owed the Khira, and he went and got them all. With the help of his guards, of course.

A curious thumping noise, a regular One-Two, One-Two beat to it, started to be heard by the group. It was faint, however, and issued from the north, if the street signs were accurate in their names.

"Abdul was taking the tribute in the chest that I hope you found when he got ambushed by the bandits you went to kill. I know not the particulars, I just know that Tamyra found the bloody scene, and could not find the tribute-chest. I thought all was lost, that we as a town would be enslaved by the Khira for missing a payment when I heard that Tar-Sul had found the chest in the bar. I sent Tamyra to go get the chest from Tar-Sul, which was when I found he had been kidnapped."

The thumping sound grew louder and louder, interrupted by a momentary scream and the banging of a violently closed door.

"If you found the chest, please hand it over. I have the 500 gold I promised you in my home- I may have cheated on Werstone's taxes so that it could prosper as it deserved. All I care about is the good of this town, and it sounds like the R-"

And they were there. A platoon of the Royal Guards, resplendent in their gator-hide armor, stood at the opposite end of North Road. A look of fear, absolute fear, took over Demy-Sefrab's face for a moment, before he whispered under his breath to the party, "I am so sorry about it this."

And backing away from the five, he pointed and shouted at them, "It is they! They ambushed the tax-collector! They stole Werstone's tribute! They robbed the Khira! It is them!"

At the head of the Royal Guard, the Lieutenant removed a bugle, and raising it to his lips, sounded the call to charge.

"The good thing is, I guess we can keep the money" Sigurd noted bluntly.
"These men are not ones to talk nor listen to reason" he whispered to his compatriots. "Nim, make me big again, please. And when I run, run." Nim Enlarge me please, more fun that way!

He stepped, out in the middle of the street, and bellowed: "Treacherous Sen-Rabbim scum, your lives are forfeit! Send my regards to your &^%$@-king!" while loosening the straps on his tower shield, and hurling it like the mountain giant he resembled against the front rank of the advancing guardsmen.
The massive plank of armored wood caught the sun's rays, and the gazes of henchmen - before descending upon them like an avalanche of well-deserved judgment!

Bluff 28!!! to catch them off-guard, to topple them with the hurled shield, have a few of the others stumble over them, to delay them and facilitate our escape. If you want, I can spend my daily use of Smite to add to the oomph!

"Discretion is the better part of valor!" Sigurd added nonchalantly as he sped off back into the Muck, northward. Sooner or later, it would be too cold for the villains to follow.


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