Explain to the League that I don't have enough expertise to name and cure the disease and then leave the building. Go ask the people of the city about their occupations, religion, culture and traditions.
[4] The members are disappointed, but understanding - if they could not manage it, it was unrealistic to expect you could. They will do their best to make their friend comfortable in isolation before the end.
[4] The dominant industry here in Groan is the flax farming and clothworking profession; a massive Clothworkers' Guildhall dominates the otherwise meagre port. Groaning cloth is known for its quality across the breadth of the Gulf of Storms. Aching is well known for its extensive pig-breeding regions, as well as the vast supplies of grain from the province proper.
The dominant religion is Suulian Orthodoxy, one of the few toeholds the Orthodox faith has on the Storm Coast, though the various Archbishops have made efforts to expand it over the last few decades. There is still a strong Taloisist component of the population, though not as vocal by comparison to neighbouring Vasir.
Culturally, the Republic is known for its rather liberal rights to citizens (though not extending to the right to own slaves or arms - military force is under a strict monopoly by the Senate) and for most farmers to be freeholders rather than peasants. Other than that, it is not especially much of a seat of learning of art (except where textiles are concerned, where it produces many and often highly fashionable tapestries, clothes and designs) and does not support a terribly large urban population.
((Despite the futility, Drua is angry and refuses to believe it's a dead-end! Onwards, to bad decisions! 
))
Drua curses, walking away from the professionals district, livid with rage as she walks the crowded streets. Alchemical processes were illegal here? In a republic?! There wasn't a damn priest within sight, and they had the nerve to shove her out! She wasn't doing this to break any laws; she was compiling a work that would help define her craft! If the progress of the Goddess's herbs and the wonders of alchemy were going to stopped by a few guards, she'd be damned. Of course, the jewellers in the district would know some people who knew the techniques she needed to document, and as a few herbalists she had learned from were fond of saying, everyone knew someone who could get you the right poison eventually. Of course, getting back into the district now would be a bit more complex, but this was for her grand work, for the encyclopaedia! She'd need to find a disguise, of course, then sneak back into the district and make some subtle inquiries. A lot of people filtered in and out of the place, she'd do her best to blend in with that crowd, maybe hitching a ride on a delivery cart wouldn't be a bad idea, she needed to get back in there...
Drua will attempt to find a disguise, then sneak back into the jewellers district and make some subtle inquiries about the techniques she needs.
[1] You purchase a wig and dress from a local street hawker. It is the perfect disguise! With this bright orange hair and polka-dot dress, nobody will recognise you now!
[1-2] You were wrong. The pair of guards outside the first shop spot you as soon as you arrive and draw their truncheons. They advance, ready to give you a royal beating for your stupidity.
Why had he said that? It was stupid, and there where more obvious targets. Suul.
" You are right. Head to Suul, and try to convert the small towns around their capital to change faiths. Then, you must rally the populace to rebel against their oppresors. Attempt to get weapons for the peoples rebbellion. Head forward! To Suul! Down with the bishop!"
Send troops to ferment rebbellion in the Sullian country side.
You send your fanatical supporters, frenzied with religious vigour against their erstwhile oppressors, to Suul.
[Scout Check: 5]
[Tactics Check: 5/5]
[Evade Check: 3 vs 6+2]
[6+4 vs 5+1]
The bodies of your men, riddled with arrows, are sent in two shipments to Miring and Sheepstead. Both include a note.
"Please find attached the bodies of the heathen Mirish bandits that attempted to foment discord in the Suulian countryside. We have chosen to view this as a failure on your part to contain the lawless segments of your society, rather than a diplomatic insult. Should this happen again, we will have no choice but to assume it is a deliberate act of war on their sponsor's part.
Kindly,
Archbishop Thring"Jormund replies to the McKinley Chief, "It is my lord's wish that at a minimum we come to a ceasefire and stop the pointless killing between our two clans. What he really desires is that you would join with him in order to form a stronger kingdom, he's offering you the status of Herse and repayment for the wrongs that were done to you."
Continue negotiating with the McKinleys.
[3-2] The McKinley chief is not impressed by your offer.
"I will take no subjugate title to your 'Jarl'. But what repayment do you offer?"Throw my current body/weapon at the guard charging at me, then use the newly made corpse/unconcious servant to beat the guard down!
Taric: +1 Weapon, +1 Armour. (Ranged: Corpse-throw, 1 free shot) 3/3hp
Guards: +1 Weapon, +1 Armour. 2/2hp
[4+2 vs 3+2] Taric hurls the corpse of the guard at the first of the two soldiers, knocking him flat to the ground. The blow knocks the guard unconscious in the process.
The remaining guard lets out an alarm cry: "Taric has escaped! Taric has escaped!" Taric picks up the unconscious sword-servant.
[6+2 vs 3+2]
Taric smacks the second guard across the head with the body, the breastplate clanging hard against the guardsman's helmet and knocking him unconscious.
Fantastic as this particular body is, it is getting pretty damn heavy lugging all these corpses around. You just grab the guard's sword, execute the two unconscious guards and head out into the corridor. Alarm bells are ringing, but you can hear shouting from the stairwell: "Evacuate the King!"
Trubaldsome: You hear muffled shouting. You hear it again, the words "Taric" and "escaped" infringing on your consciousness. Just as the panic seizes you, the door bursts open and Waery enters your room, sword drawn.
"Boss? Time to go again."
[6-1] To your amazement, the men don't appear to have noticed you at all. You could have sworn they must have followed you here, but you remain perfectly still and they move right past you, eyes on the stall and blending as effectively into the shadows as yourself.
[6] You watch the exchanges at the stall as a few more customers come and go. What seems to mostly be coppers and loose change changes hands, but you are sharp enough to spot the gemstones in the pennies. There's an awful lot of money moving through this stall. One of the customers opens a pot to check the contents and you catch a glimpse - scrolls, paperwork. You don't recognise the document off-hand, but it looks official. It seems Mistaris operates a successful forgery operation, at the very least. You wonder what else might be in the pots. One customer seems rather agitated about a purchase, so you try and listen in. You're fairly distant from the stall and he's speaking quietly. You catch a few words.
"...ducats... ...fresh bodies from those knights... ...more bribes... ...Gilgamesh..."
You are very focused on the stall. Too focused, in fact, to notice that the men with the dulled knives have snuck right past you to striking distance of the stall itself. They lunge into the moonlight, converging on the elderly woman and her customer.
[2] You don't even spot where the marksmen are. Crossbow bolts rain down from somewhere on the rooftops, clattering off the cobbles but mostly embedding themselves in the torsos of the thugs. The darkened bodies slump to the ground without further noise, though the customer starts squealing. Mistaris raises a hand to shush him.
"Don't worry, dearie. Your business is safe with me."
Author
Topic: You are King! (Spring 315a) (Read 187669 times)