SESSION 299: Horse Fuckers!
Back in civilized lands we find out that our gang has a hard time differentiating between negotiations with orcs and city folk.
A road discovered leads to a town. A stitch-up and poor inter-personal skills almost lead to a big mess. Sailing away the following day to the next hole in the wall, they may not figure out what the deal was.
Day 269 (15.41/0503à15.40): The biting cold was still hungry this morning. They pressed on. It was not long until the trade road was intersected and the march turned to the west. Late in the day smoke was seen rising from a structure in the distance. Ended up being an inn/ garrison. That evening they ate fresh hill deer as they huddled near the roaring fire in an attempt to rid themselves of the deep cold.
Day 270 (15.40à): The deep freeze finally broke. It would take nearly two days to reach Deepwater. They marched out under light snow.
Day 271 (15.40à): The day was clear and the band made Deepwater by mid-afternoon and ended up in the only inn in the town, the Speckled Trout, after some general snooping around.
Day 272 (13.39 Deepwater): Mild snow today as the gang went out to make connections. Looking for trade and services. They found some in this rinky dink port town. A sled was commissioned and the local priest, of Sarnis (Praise be Sarnis may we never run aground), Brother Halason was commissioned to fix our trio of broken arms along with Boris’s compressed vertebrae (that would leave him largely incapacitated for a week or so).
This was followed by more ale and relaxing at the Speckled Trout until the City guard showed up. The mob had been accused, anonymously of course, of being degenerate horse fuckers. For some unfathomable reason Ramrod was allowed to take point on this interaction. Rammer got nasty, so much in fact that somehow Raul was drawn into the frenzy.
It looked like we were a breath away from arrest and banishment before some idiot realized that our supposedly heroic hobos were acting like asshats. A fight with the guard and the ramifications thereof would completely undermine their broader regional goals. They finally shut the hell up and took a fine even though the accusation was way off base. Some of them were unabashed plant fuckers but horses, and donkeys for that matter, is where we draw the line. If they had less ale in them and maybe if the girls had been around smarter minds would have realized that something was afoot. The guards were just doing their job but there was someone(s) in the town that did not like our hobo presence. Nuance is lost on the twitty.
It went down sorta like this...
“We’re not horse fuckers!”
“Someone sez you is strangers”
“We will destroy you for suggesting that we did any poking”
“We are only doing our job, sir”
“I want to see the judge!”
“We have been sent to resolve the matter”
-the following straight up vitriol from Ram-rob has been redacted due to its inappropriate nature.
-Raul started slathering at this point which will also require redaction.
“Fine how much? We better not be considered guilty”.
“Fifty gold sheckles each and the matter of transient horse fucking will be resolved”
“What does that mean!?!”
“Just pay them!”
“We will be on our way. We hope that we will not be required again. It may be best if you strange folk moved along at the earliest possible convenance”
“We are working on it!”
“A good day to you then and stay away from the stables”
The guards collected the fine and warned against any further copulating with the equine type before departing.
Folks began looking differently at our gang.
The weirdest of such with adulation, a creepy twerp wearing a straw stuffed blouse.
Sloth had a good cry because he was really confused by all this, “I like horsees they are nice…”.
Day 273 (Deepwater): A blizzard rolled in today dropping another 40” of snow. Sitting around the fire in the tavern until they needed to visit the priest for the day’s healing service.
Day 274 (Deepwater): The storm petered out in the morning but not before dropping another 4”. In the afternoon some of the troop set out to the warehouse district to figure out what is going on in Deepwater and to book passage up the river. They learned that the Blood did indeed connect with the Sarn but was impassable during the Winter. They could however travel to Hob, killing about half the travel back to Liwil. A deal was struck. They would sail in three day’s time.
Day 275 (Deepwater): It must be a climate crisis! No snow today but the mercury precipitously dropped. Another deep freeze signalled a good day to once more sit around a roaring fire.
Day 276 (Deepwater): The cold held. Activity again was limited to the required. Picking up the sled.
Day 277 (Deepwater): Today was supposed to be departure day but the deep cold held creating somesort of temperature inversion that brought thick fog. Booo.
Day 278 (Sailing 13.39à): The cold broke. The fog dispersed. The river boat to Hob departed.
Day 279 (Sailing along the Sarn): An uneventful winter day on the Sarn river.
Day 279 (Sarnà19.29 Hob): Another welcomed clear day and arrival in the walled town of Hob. An ancient glowing smelter greeted all that arrive along the river. It was an industrial waystation that once tied together the larger network of the Skeldrane empire. Given direction by the Captain of the skiff the hobos made their way to the only Inn in town (where have we heard that before?) Hooper’s. It was the dead season and the arrival of twelve hobos and a statue were warmly greeted by the innkeeper Mr. Hooper, he used to drive the boat it seems.
"We don't normally serve their kind", Hooper said gesturing at Sasha the Statue. He didn't want to be 'too by the book' business was really slow.
"Don't worry she's with us and the big goober will also eat her share", Raul pointing at good old lumbering Sloth.
Day 280 thru 288 (19.29 Hob): With Boris being bedridden to recover from his neck repair the gang hung loose at Hooper’s for the next eight days. This might provide enough time to figure how to traverse the wilderlands during the darkest depths of Winter. They did end up buying a pair of mules, we shall see if that works out.
I doubt it (x2) but maybe six or so feet of snow is not as much of a hinderance as reality dictates.
The B-Team: Boris, Ramrod, Raul, Sloth, Willy, Sasha, Wendul, Gurn, Katre, Herbert, Camillus, Lady Versamage & Skull-Crusher
ROLECALL
Raul the Voyager (MD9) 276550 xp +10% <360000> CRT 1d12/III
Fezzi-Gig (Neut: XXXX) Sword
Serious wound: permanent loss of CHA -4,
Removed one of his own nostrils.
Boris the Dwarven Lord (D9) 378475 xp +10% <400001> CRT 1d20/IV
Serious wound: permanent loss of CHA -3, carved up face
Wound: Bad leg (-5’ MV)
Multiple Injuries: lost 25 teeth (7 remaining), drools a lot CHA -1
Serious Injury: Brain Drain -2 INT
Serious wound: permanent loss of an eye (-1 to missile fire)
Ramrod the Cloned Magsman (T9) 185656 xp +5% <280001> CRT 1d20/II
Serious wound: Bad Back (-1 stone CC)
Scars: Neurological damage to hip, noticeable limp (-5’ mve)
Missing eight teeth talks with a lisp
The Henchmen
Sloth the Bopper (L8) 205438 xp +10% <390000> CRT 1d20/IV or 1d6/G (vs. s, m)
Missing ten teeth
Sasha Plasha the Warden (R7) 130057 xp +10% <200000> CRT 1d10/III
Missing three teeth
Gurn Hammerhand the Dwarven Swashbuckler (D5) 34745 <36000> +5% CRT 1d12/III
Wendul the Magician (W6) 56493 <80000> 5% CRT 1d8/I
Camillus the Myrmidon (F6) 59674 <64001> +5% CRT 1d20/IV
Willy the Reformed Burglar (T6) 34881 <40000>10% CRT 1d14/II
Agolloch the Eye of Purity (Lawful; XXXX) Sword
Katre Elf-Girl and Swordsman Conjuror (E3) 14934 xp <16000> +0% CRT 1d8/II
Lady Versamage Knight Errant (K6) 64777 xp <85000> +5% CRT 1d16/IV
Herbert the Master Gnome Trickster (G4) 15070 xp <30000> +5% CRT 1d8/III
Skull-Crusher the Hellebardier of Crom (A4) 8044 xp <12000> +5% CRT 1d8/III
RESERVES
Elapsed Campaign Time
(713 b) days at beginning of session (DreamlandsàFar Southern Basilisk Hills)
689a (Bunny Group Newville) Busy until 779
708d (Ding-We Gang Lake of Abominations/ Liwil)
Join us for session Three-Fucking-Hundred when we ask the questions:
Why would someone peg our hobos as horse fuckers?
Did someone want us out of town?
If so, why would someone want that?
Why don’t we ever dig deeper in inquiry?
Why did nobody step in when Rammer got real dark?
Why did we treat the guards so shitty, they were just doing their job?
What the hell is wrong with “You People”?
Travelling through a base of 6-8’ of snow is easy right?
What does Hob have to offer beyond a couple of mules?
Tale of the Tape
Nothing special, Sasha is still a statue.
Oh and Boris recovering from his neck re-elongation.
No more broken arms.
KILLS
none
LOOT
nope
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