Turn 47 - Must Have Taken A Wrong TurnLars figures there's no use in messing around and heads right up to the temple steps. Fortunately, there is a bit of a crowd standing about there already, talking about something called the "Trial of Amaliz Teze". However, the gossip of unbelievers is not what today's performance is about. It is about the unbelievers themselves, soon to be one of two things - converted or burned to a crisp.
[Charisma roll: 1-->5]
"People of Kilnipom! I come before you to bring word that this so-called temple is an affront to the One True God! The heretics that have built this sham must be driven out of the city, lest the cleansing flames consume you all! For our True God is vengeful, and is displeased that the people are following the false gods! Soon will come a culling, and our God culls... with FIRE!"... and a dramatic pause...
"Repent now or be burned by his fury!"Some of the gossiping people turn to Lars.
"You're in the wrong town, moron!""Yeah! We already have a temple of Kezilam! It's right behind you!""So no need to preach fire and brimstone at us, we already converted!""And Kezilam's a she, you dolt! How could you get that wrong?""Well, I'm hardly surprised. He's here instead of Ginipim, after all.""I remember that back in my day, a priest like that wouldn't have made it past the first trial! Those were the days! Now they'll let any idiot preach fire and brimstone at temples!"* * * * *
Gronok, barely able to stand now, goes for a bit of camouflage to protect himself during the perilous afternoon in the forest.
[Camouflage roll: 1-->5]
He lifts up a pile of fallen leaves with his ancient and tired arms, then softly collapses face-first into it from exhaustion. He falls asleep instantly.
Some hours later, he wakes up to the feeling of something crawling on his foot. It looks to be a squirrel! Fortunately, it is easily scared away. And it didn't even ruin his boots or reach his actual feet. How fortunate. He rubs his eyes and looks for Onon.
Huh? Where did he go? Gronok can't see him anywhere.
* * * * *
Phiali, summoning up all of his mechanical knowledge, looks for a rope or chain to pull on. That's how you fix things, right?
Unfortunately, the rope, chain or whatever seems to be missing, and is nowhere to be found. Clearly, whatever problems this well has, they are manifold like the wisdom of God. Not to mention brutally annoying like petty heretics.
* * * * *
Elizas decides to flex his lying muscles and try to get pseudo-Gezerim out of trouble. He strolls up to the scene of holy peacekeeper brutality and exclaims loudly.
"On the authority of the king, I demand you set this diplomat down!"[Bluff roll: 6-->4]
The guards jump back from the man and look as innocent as possible, a movement they have clearly learned through vast experience in the field. Pseudo-Gezerim, having been tackled, searched and otherwise disturbed, doesn't seem too eager to get up yet.
"A diplomat, sir? This man is a diplomat?"Elizas is not deterred by the questioning, and lays on the seeming competence and soberness on thick.
"Yes! And you are currently in the middle of ruining a great many plans of the king, a fact that shall not be appreciated by the true authorities of this city!"The guards look quite confused now.
* * * * *
Shashari, noticing the combined ball of the Siren and the filthy heathen rolling toward the river, shouts and runs after them.
"Wh- hey, wait! Don't fall in there! GOD MIGHT NOT SAVE YOU IF YOU FALL IN THERE!"[Shashari intervention roll: 4]
She runs toward the river and gives the aggressive heathen a swift kick while he is otherwise occupied, successfully distracting him from the grapple and stopping the rolling ball.
[Grapple: Siren vs. Crazy, Filthy Heathen: 1 vs. 1-1]
The two men stop fighting for a moment and stare at Shashari. The Siren slightly distances himself from the heathen.
"Well, now you've ruined the moment and the mood. Are you happy, shrew-heathen?"Lars: 5 MP
Gronok: 0 MP
Phiali: 0 MP
Elizas: 3 MP
Shashari: 5 MP