Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2011 20:07:53 GMT -5
(A poster hanging on the wall in the inn)
WANTED: Erynne "The Wanderlust" Perselli
CRIME: Murder, theft, continued possession of stolen property
REWARD: Thirty thousand gold lions
(A sketch of Erynne Wanderlust appears here)
Be it known that Erynne "The Wanderlust" Perselli, former citizen of Hillsfar and ranger of Cormyr's wilds, is a wanted criminal in the theft of significant property owned by one Zariff Von Altomar, an associate of Thay's nobles. In the act of removing said property from Von Altomar's possession, "The Wanderlust" participated in the murder of six guards protecting the legitimate interests of Von Altomar. Von Altomar has tracked "The Wanderlust" from his estate to Cormyr and offers a reward of thirty thousand gold lions to the party that successfully captures "The Wanderlust" and brings her alive to the Thayan Enclave, south of Greatgaunt, where she will then be detained until Von Altomar returns to collect her.
It is needful that "The Wanderlust's" memory be intact, in order that the whereabouts of Von Altomar's stolen property may be extracted from the subject. Therefore, when "The Wanderlust" arrives at the Thayan Enclave, an inspection of the subject will be performed, and a penalty of ten thousand lions will be assessed to the capturing party if the subject has been recently killed and raised. The reward will then be reduced to twenty thousand lions to cover the extra expense of dealing with impaired memories, if the subject has suffered a recent death and raising. No reward will be given for the handing over of a corpse.
Be advised that "The Wanderlust" is a skilled and dangerous opponent who is rumored to have bested such enemies as the Cult of Malar as the target of their High Hunt, as well as having participated in the slaying of a handful of dragons. Apprehending this criminal is not a task to be taken lightly, nor should it be expected that the subject will come quietly without a fight.
(OOC rules to this scenario in the next post)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2011 20:13:00 GMT -5
This is a player-run plot, and there are some rules for participating in it. They are as follows: PHASES: In order for the plot to continue longer, to lead would-be hunters to face Erynne's skills more directly at least for a time, and to enhance the role playing value of the plot, this plot will be run in two "phases." The rules for "Phase One," which begins immediately, are as follows: 1 - "Dead to the plot" For the sake of realism, any PC killed during an attempt to capture Erynne and left without party members in control of the place they have fallen at any point is "dead to the plot." Party members lurking invisibly or hidden while enemy monsters or PC's control the battlefield don't count. To avoid being "dead to the plot," a PC must be attended by party members that are clearly in control of the place they fell without opposition, for the entire time from the end of active hostilities to raising. A mutually agreed truce fulfills this and will allow the fallen to be raised and continue in the plot. The cause of death does not matter, whether it is Erynne herself, her allies, her hunters, or even NPC's and monsters. Dead is dead, and unattended is unattended. This rule includes Erynne herself. If Erynne becomes "dead to the plot," the plot ends, and there is no reward for anyone. (She will not be permanently dead, just "dead to the plot.") The saving grace is that Erynne's remaining in the plot can be preserved by the presence of any PC, ally or hunter alike, and can even change hands without going out of the plot. Since allies and hunters alike have an interest in her returning to life if killed, so long as Erynne doesn't have to respawn, she's still in the plot. (Lucky Erynne. In order for this rule to apply, the character death in question must occur during a capture attempt initiated by the hunters. A character that is "dead to the plot" is not allowed to do or say ANYTHING that could aid or hinder any character on any side of the plot at all from that point on. This includes aiding in capture attempts or defending from them, as well as giving items, gold, information, or advice in order to help another succeed in future encounters, or any other actions that could affect the plot in any way. For the purposes of this plot, they are dead. 2 - Tactics/rules of engagement True seeing: True seeing SPELLS are not allowed at all for anyone on any side, with any level or sort of involvement, what so ever, in "Phase One." True seeing POTIONS are allowed, because their lesser duration and high cost require strategic use of the item. The true seeing SPELL, however, is not allowed at all, for anyone, in "Phase One." Invisibility and sanctuary effects: Invisibility and sanctuary effects may be used by anyone with any sort of involvement in this plot AFTER initial contact with opposing parties has been made. What is NOT allowed is for a party to magically mask their presence, sneak up on an opposing party completely unaware, and begin an attack. Once interactions between two parties have begun in some way, a party may use invisibility or sanctuary effects to mask their subsequent movements and activities. But initial interaction must begin without magical invisibility or sanctuary. Stealth: Any character may use stealth at any time for any purpose, within general server rules. Phase One will run for three weeks, until Erynne is caught, or until it seems to be in the best interests of the plot to move to Phase Two, which ever comes first. The rules of Phase Two (which are much less restrictive and are expected to make life much more difficult for Erynne's side) will be posted when Phase Two begins. If the plot is clearly running strong at the end of three weeks and players are clearly generally enjoying it with Phase One rules in effect, then Phase One will be extended beyond three weeks. Have fun!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 4, 2011 20:04:04 GMT -5
A comment about his plot: Please, do not tell me, Erynne's player, what side you or anyone else intend to take in this plot OOC'ly. I really want to experience this plot from Erynne's perspective, only knowing what she knows IC. Please don't give me any information OOC'ly. I'm happy to answer questions people may have, especially if it can be asked in a way that doesn't give away what side you are on. But please don't tell me things ooc'ly. Thanks. Sharauvyn, a.k.a. Erynne
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2011 23:14:51 GMT -5
Erynne is still free, and the hunt is still on. The reward of 30,000 gold lions is still available to anyone clever and lucky enough to catch her. At this point, the time has come for this plot to enter into "Phase Two." The rules for "Phase One" were intended, as stated before, to keep certain potential scenarios from ending the plot too quickly before it could get going. At this point, that purpose has been served, so Phase Two now begins. The new rules are as follows:
1 - "Dead to the plot"
A PC who is killed and left unattended with no friendly PC's watching over them at any point is "dead to the plot," just like in Phase One. The change is that the PC does not need to be killed during a capture attempt against Erynne. Any time one PC kills another in connection with this plot, that PC can become "dead to the plot" if not attended by friendly PC's. Erynne and her allies can strike preemptively instead of waiting for hunters to attack, and hunters can kill off Erynne's potential defenders when she is not around, or even eliminate competing hunters.
Two small points about "dead to the plot." First, normal server rules obviously apply concerning IC information and motivation connected to PVP. Second, please do your best to make sure all *players* involved in a battle are aware that the coming fight is over this plot, instead of blindsiding a *player* with, "Now that you're dead, you're out of this plot" once the fight is over. Deceiving a *character* IC is perfectly allowed, but let's please be up front with other *players* about knocking someone out of this plot before we do it.
2 - Magic use:
Anything goes, within server rules.
All rules and rule changes have been approved by DM Penguin prior to the start of this plot.
|
|
|
Post by bhagavat on Apr 5, 2011 13:20:20 GMT -5
the poster in the Wheel of Suzial is changed.
the drawing is added to. mustache and black eyes.
scribbled over the other words is....
"screw you undead freaks!"
*the bartender had his backed turned, didnt see who did it*
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 26, 2011 10:56:11 GMT -5
Kell and a few other shopkeepers mumble in surprised tones about a battered and bloodied Erynne who came stumbling through the middle of the square in front of the Wheel. She looked a bit dazed, and rubbed her head, wincing, while she meandered southwards, apparently getting her bearings.
|
|
|
Post by pattiiie on Apr 28, 2011 9:28:39 GMT -5
The young woman spotted Erynne speaking to the merchant Kell. Her eyes widened in thought, staring at Erynne's appearance for a moment. She rose from the fountain bench, making haste as she approached the dangerous woman.
"You.... Erynne!"
Erynne simply blinked and made haste as she scurried off east. The young woman with long red hair chased her to the northern gates, calling out "Erynne, come back here!".
She let out a deep sigh and chased Erynne out the gates. She soon returned battered and bruised, limping as she entered the Wheel..
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 28, 2011 13:20:48 GMT -5
Bedraggled, exhausted, low on supplies, low on luck, at the end of her wits, Erynne stumbled, bleeding from bite marks, into the cave outside of Valkur's Roar. It had started as a shopping trip, a risk to be sure, but she needed supplies. Badly. The purple clad caster recognized her under her hood, and the pursuit began. She'd had to lay two strokes of her axe on the woman to deter her pursuit, but she did break off. The strikes wounded Erynne's heart as much as they did her target.
The trip north to Espar was breathless as she pondered what might be following her. North to Tyrluk and west from there, knowing that someone, somewhere would be asking after her. She pressed on into the forbidding cold of the Storm Horns. Frost giants and mountain giants loomed over her path, but she had to keep moving, she knew. It was dangerous, treacherous territory, the biting cold as much a danger as the giants, but she knew she could make it. She had to make it, or else be caught. And no one in their right mind would try to follow. Or so she thought.
The comforting sight of the road to Shallybrook came into sight. Down through the open space into the Mistwood Forest, past hobgoblins and worg riders, she slipped unseen. Her shoulders drooped from exhaustion, the trip taking a toll on both her body and her mind. She needed sleep. She needed rest. Near Valkur's Roar, she knew, she could find shelter away from nosy innkeeps, under cover, out of sight. There was a cave that she could hide in, and find sleep, blessed sleep.
She found the door set into the walls, staggered inside, and scanned the cavern. Seeing no threats, she closed the door, laid an arsenal of her strongest traps, and lay down to sleep. Her panther companion nuzzled her face gently, watching over her with care.
Some time later, how much later she had no idea, one of her traps went off! Erynne sprang to her feet, her breath flitting in and out in shallow, hasty puffs. She took a true seeing potion and peered into the darkness. A dark, heavily armored figure took a step, and a mass of spikes erupted from her trap. The warrior backed up a few steps, bandaged himself, and proceeded closer. For all the effect the traps had, he may as well have been made of iron.
Erynne pulled back behind the stone pillar she was hiding behind and bode the panther out into sight. He strode boldly forward, his head slung low, growling. The man raised his sword and attacked. Erynne signaled the cat to pull back, and he did. As the man neared the cat, Erynne shot around the other side of the pillar, making for the exit at a run. The cat bounded after her, outsprinted her, and left the cavern at full speed.
The warrior yelled at Erynne to stop and surrender, but she cursed him out, desperate to escape. "Too close to stop for an invisibility potion," she thought, his blade ready to strike from behind. Spotting someone, a woman clad in armor, not far off to her left, Erynne swung in that direction, yelling, "HELP!"
The woman turned to face Erynne and her pursuer. As much as Erynne wanted to leave the woman to her fate, just the distraction she needed to escape, she wouldn't have an innocent bystander's blood on her hands that way. "No," she thought. "Whether death or captivity awaits me in return, I won't leave her to die for me." Erynne turned, axe and shield in hand, and struck at the armored warrior.
The next thing Erynne knew, she was laying face down in a pool of her own blood, the warrior brandishing his sword ready to strike. Twice, she pulled out a bull's strength potion, intent on resuming the fight, but the warrior kicked them away and tied her up. Erynne became vageuly aware of the woman speaking with the man, getting ready to fight on Erynne's behalf. "No," she managed to speak. "He'll kill you. Go get help. RUN!" Her strength returned somewhat, having someone else to think of, once again. Erynne was beyond hope. But the young woman who stopped to help her did not need to die today. Better she should flee in a vain attempt to save Erynne from captivity than to fall at her side.
Erynne tried to fight, bound and grievously hurt, but the warrior easily toted her to the Thayan Enclave. The transaction was a quick and easy matter. One hands over the Erynne, the other hands over some bank notes. A cordial thank you and farewells, and she was tucked away under heavy magical guard, to await transfer elsewhere.
Alone, in a dark cell, after months of running and hiding, having endured much hardship and finding some heady high points along the way, but now finally caught, "The Wanderlust's" worst nightmare had actually come true. All hope seemed lost. With her hopes crushed, her friends nowhere to be seen, her body slashed and bleeding, even the eternally faithful panther, Sharazim, apart from her, the fiery, elusive ranger dropped her face into her hands, and cried. There was no denying it. Her fate was now truly out of her own hands.
OOC: There is interest among players in trying to rescue Erynne from her captors. If you wish to do this, and have a good IC connection to her or this situation that leads your character to this desire, please send a PM to Sharauvyn, telling me you want to help, and a few times that are good for you. I will do the best I can to coordinate and accomodate as many people as I can when the scene is run.
And thanks so much to everyone who has been playing along thus far.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2011 8:38:05 GMT -5
The capture had taken her will to fight. Their magic had taken her ability to move, for a time. And their greedy hands had taken her armor and cloak, leaving her instead in a set of rags that barely covered the womanly elements of her figure at all. A wizard pointed a finger at her and traced an arc in the air, and she flew, helpless, atop a great stone pillar, surrounded by zhentish warriors and wizards.
"Soon, my sweet," said Zariff, her swollen faced, murky eyed, would-be master, as she was lifted up. "We'll take you back home where you belong. I'd whip you for your insolence in escaping me once before, if it wouldn't kill you after the beating you took getting caught. Perhaps after you heal up there, we'll talk again." Malevolent laughter poured from his flapping lips as she settled on the top of the pillar.
The stony wasteland stretched to the horizon in every direction, nothing but dead land as far as the eye could see. The vicious wind whipped tiny shards of broken stone against her now exposed flesh, and she huddled her arms around herself as best she could, sheltering skin with skin. Within minutes, her skin was raw. From her vantage point, she could see all the opposition arrayed against any hope of regaining her freedom. A small army camped around her, soulless, dead men whose hearts were as bleak and hard as the Stonelands that encircled them all. Even if she could get down from where she was, there would be no making it out alive without the gear and clothing they'd taken. Just the cold of the Horns would have frozen her to death in twenty minutes, dressed as she was. There was simply no way out.
A familiar sound caught Erynne's attention. A low, throaty growl, like that of a wild beast drifted up from somewhere. She knew that sound. A wary hope lit up her eyes, and she scanned around hurriedly. Sharazim. Where was he? She searched again frantically. She knew his ways and where to look for him, but the cat, more elusive than she, would take no chances today. Again, the soft sound. There! She spotted him on top of a rise, tucked between two rocks. Her most faithful friend had not left her. Eye contact now made, the cat turned back between the rocks, holding her gaze a long moment, clearly making a point.
As the cat disappeared from her sight behind an outcrop, Erynne began to weep again. She pumped her fists in the air, emotion pouring out of her. She jumped up and down and stomped her bare feet on the rock. After a moment of this, she brought her elbows down, bent at her sides, and let out a ferocious shriek. Her complete, utter despair found itself pierced with a glimmer of hope.
The commotion atop the pillar drew the attention of her captors. Zariff Von Altomar looked up and tapped the crossbow held by the man standing next to him. "You know what to do," he said. The man nodded, took aim, and snapped a bolt at the top of the stone pillar. It clattered against the lip at the top and glanced away, dangerously close to Erynne. She scurried back away from the edge. "Don't have any thoughts of escaping again, bitch!" he spat. "I've spent fifty thousand lions to retrieve you. But a hundred, in Cormyr's currency, worth of bets, plus the honor and prestige of owning a silly little forest girl like you, will be well worth the trouble. Just know I can do far worse than kill you. I know how resistant you are to hardship. How'd you like to spend the entire cart ride home with a bolt lodged between your kidneys and your spleen, bouncing and jostling the whole way? And that is only the beginning, kitten. Perhaps the men would like to wager on just how much abuse I can make you live through."
Erynne sat on the rock, high above them all. Day turned to night, and back to day again. Three times, the sun made its slow trek across the sky, beating down on her from high above. Nothing seemed to change in that time, but she knew in her heart, Sharazim would at least make an attempt to see her freed. Knowing this, she kept her eyes always to the horizon, watching for any sign to fan the tiny ember of hope into a flame.
On the afternoon of the third day, the sun glaring balefully through a hazy sky, Erynne saw something enormous and red on the horizon to the south. She strained her eyes to see. She could barely make out wings on what ever it was, and as she watched, a gout of flame shot from it. Her sharp eyes zeroed in, and after a moment of adjustment, she could see a little more detail. It had a long neck and a tail as well. Erynne concluded she was looking at a red dragon. Around the dragon, a couple of tiny motes glinted, like distant metal in the merciless sun. She saw tiny figures darting around like ants, and then everything stopped. The dragon shifted in a nimbus of green energy and shrank into a tiny sliver of a figure.
Could it possibly be? Just in the last week, one of her friends, a druidess, had shown her how she could transform herself into a red dragon, and that green nimbus was exactly what appeared when she resumed her normal form. The metal glints could be any of a number of people who cared for her. As she let her eyes further hone in, she caught the telling sign. A dark, black speck led a small contingent of humanoid shapes down a rocky bank, meandering through the harsh terrain. The shade of black and the movements over the stony ground were right. She was looking at Sharazim, and he was leading a group of adventurers through the Stonelands. As the realization took hold, Erynne's eyes filled with tears, and she wept unreservedly, her whole body shaking with the release. She would not be a slave again after all. With her voice echoing around them, the men below grinned and nudged each other with elbows, gloating to each other, mistaking for sorrow and despair the sounds of hope and joy. After a few minutes, Erynne lay back on the rock, a contented smirk turned up at the now darkening sky.
Erynne awoke in the morning to shouts and the clamor of battle. She jumped to her feet and ran to the edge of the rock, scanning around. A familiar red cape flapped around a fiercely slashing armored warrior, surrounded on all sides by smaller goblins. A green robed woman struck one of them down with a curved blade. A ferocious dual wielder punished anything that dared approach within reach. A gnome hopped and darted about, snapping arrows into her foes. A second armored woman waded around in the fray, courageously drawing the enemy's attention to herself and smashing them down with a sword. There was a mystical warrior among them, though Erynne found it hard to follow what exactly he was doing. And in the thick of the fighting, a black panther closed its jaws, engulfing a goblin's entire head between his fangs.
Erynne whooped and danced around on the rock. She knew most of who came for her. Lucian the Helmite, Abigail the Ilmateri warrioress, Kali the shape shifting druidess, Breeann the “helpless gnome" with a routine, Korista who'd witnessed her capture, and of course, the ever faithful Sharazim. But the last member of the group she couldn't recognize at this distance, especially through the magical obscurement that protected him in the fighting.
The group marched methodically around the area, hammering the zhents with determination. The zhents were strong, presenting both hardened, seasoned warriors and powerful wizards. But Erynne knew who would prevail. The party coming for her combined martial skill, tactical savvy, magical power, stealth and tricks, tenacity, and most importantly, love for their captured friend. The very legions of the deepest pits of the hells couldn't have stopped that group from rescuing her. Erynne watched as they advanced, as inexorable as the tide, through foe after foe after foe. Soon, they came near the base of the pillar she stood on. “Over here!” she shouted, waving her arms over her head.
“Erynne!” they called back, making their way closer.
Two enormous scorpions, almost big enough to pluck Erynne off the towering pillar, rushed at the group. While the monsters were distracted, Erynne tried to climb down. Her foot slipped, and she slid and bounced down the rocky face to land in a pile at the bottom. Unarmed and dressed only in the skimpy rags her captors had put her in for their amusement, Erynne scampered out of the way. Soon, the giant arachnids lay dead. Erynne searched in a hurry for her gear and found it tucked between the pillar and a boulder. She dressed in her leathers hurriedly, took up her weapons, and turned to face Lucian.
“Let’s finish this,” he said. “Where is that slaver?”
Erynne turned and stalked off like a bear in the only direction she hadn’t seen the group search on their way to her. “Zariff!” she shouted. “Where are you?” A few steps later, time seemed to stand still. Everyone froze in place. The effect faded, only to be repeated a moment later. “Powerful magic indeed,” Erynne thought to herself.
“There!” shouted Korista. She pointed down a hill towards a lone figure, standing with a staff and glowing with magical magenta hued light.
Erynne recognized him right away. Zariff Von Altomar. Zhentish trader and slaver. Murderer of innocents. Captor of souls. Erynne strode towards him, shoulders lifted, hands tightened around the haft of her axe. The rest of the group followed and gathered in a half-circle around him. “You sick bastard!” Erynne growled. After a moment of pause, the group fell upon him, and the battle was joined.
Swords and axe slashed. Spells crackled. Arrows whistled. Zariff struck back with powerful magic, loosing first lightning, then cold, then prismatic colors, and then more lightning. Breeann cried out and fell, and the rest retreated, bleeding badly. Everyone took to their healing supplies, and Zariff continued to strike with freezing rays and magical missiles. Soon, Lucian and Abigail ran back to fight, swinging at their magically invulnerable enemy. Korista nursed Breeann back to her feet. The mystical warrior, who Erynne now recognized as Gwyn, joined the others in melee, while Erynne loosed her entire collection of magical arrows at Zariff, to no avail. When she ran out of magical arrows, Erynne drew her axe once again and ran to fight up close.
“I can’t hit him!” Lucian shouted.
“Dispel him!” Erynne shouted.
“I already tried!” Gwyn yelled over the noise.
The group cursed and muttered, but pressed on. “He’s out of magic! We have him!” Erynne called out.
“Don’t count him out yet!” Lucian answered.
Something faded in Zariff’s magic, and a sword drew blood. He cried out in pain and lashed back with his staff. His blows fell on Erynne, so she took a potion for strength, another for speed, and a third to turn her skin to stone, like the terrain around her, and like the heart of her enemy. Everyone on both sides breathed in labored gasps, weapons clashing against each other and sending blood spraying into the air. A staff crashed against the side of Erynne’s head. An arrow sank into Zariff’s shoulder. A sword stuck him in the leg. A staff again smashed against Abigail’s ribs and smote Gwyn’s belly. But with his magic expended, the tide had turned against Zariff. Slowly, his strength began to fade.
Erynne’s axe buried itself in Zariff’s chest. His blood sprayed her face, and he cried out in surprised agony, then went limp. It took a moment for the realization to set in, but Erynne screamed in triumph. Her tormentor, her captor, her pursuer, lay dead at her feet. Erynne took hold of his hair and struck his head cleanly from his shoulders with her axe.
Some time later, back in Suzail, Erynne strode in triumph up to the pole where the heads of inhuman criminals were hung. She took something from a sack and hung it up among them. She took some other things from pouches and made a few modifications and additions to the object she had posted and stepped back, smiling with her hands on her hips, to admire her handiwork. “I think that’s about right,” she said. After taking a good, long look to commit the sight to memory, she turned and headed east to rejoin her friends at the inn.
In Erynne’s wake, a new head hung from the pole, its murky eyes clouded over in death. The mouth held a copy of the “wanted” posters that had announced the reward for Erynne’s capture. The poster was crumpled and folded just right so that the name, “Zariff Von Altomar” could be read plainly, perfectly centered between the parted lips. And stuck to the forehead with a dagger was a small note written on a torn piece of parchment. Referring to the accusations of theft and possession of stolen goods on the “wanted” posters, the note said simply, “I was never your property, boss.”
|
|