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The Wending Path (Quest Thread)
You limp slowly to the tavern, wincing occasionally. Your leg was torn up pretty badly in an ambush earlier; a goblin had ran you through the thigh with a spear, and it was only a hedgewitch's quick thinking that had saved you from bleeding out. The poultice she had applied soothed the pain, but it didn't make it go away entirely.
Opening the tavern's door, you are greeted by a wall of heat and noise. The tavern's inhabitants are loud and drunken; many of them are singing along to a risque ditty being sung by a trobairitz, sitting on a stool next to the roaring fireplace. Tavernhands weave through the crowd with practiced ease, depositing glasses of ale, wine, and other assorted beverages in front of patrons.
People barely spare you a glance, only smiling and nodding at you in a friendly manner as you pass them. You smile politely back, trying to hold back a grimace.
You slowly make your way to a stool in front of the bartender. You seat yourself upon the stool, then casually glance around the tavern, seeking any signs of trouble. Apart from the usual drunken lout, nobody immediately stands out as a threat, so you relax slightly and turn to the barman.
You raise your hand, front-and-forefingers extended. He coughs into his shoulder, then hurries over to you.
"Hello," he says, giving you a friendly smile. You see faint suspicion at the back of his eyes. You smile politely back at him, and are satisfied to see some of the suspicion retreat. "I haven't seen you around before. New to town, are you?"
You nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak properly. The bartender nods his head sagely himself, satisfied with his guess being correct.
"Well, you picked a grand time to visit!" he said, sweeping an arm around at the tavern. "The Solstice Festival's just about to start, you're bound to find something to do!"
You know this already, of course; the Solstice Festival was why you were here.
"My name's Tom," he continued. "What's your name?"
You pause slightly; you don't usually give out your name to people. The innkeeper seems friendly enough, though; surely, it couldn't hurt to give him your name?
You swallow, trying to relieve the dryness in your throat.
"My name is..."
[A] Sakuya Etheil. You're the daughter of a merchant from Marranhold.
Takuul Ferrin. You're the daughter of a blacksmith in Tevalak, famed for his fine armours.
[C] Eyin Veristol. You're the son of a ferryman, living your life atop the waves of Dawn's River.
[D] Urien. You're the adopted daughter of a hedgewitch.
[E] Roran Heyhork. It's not your real name, of course; but then, you don't give anyone your real name, even harmless old barkeepers. He can probably tell what kind of woman you are from your clothing, anyway.
[F] Write in. (Please write a name and a vague backstory.)
Comments
Character Information
Your name is Urien. You're the adopted daughter of a hedgewitch. You don't know what happened to your parents, but you find you don't much care.
You spent much of your early life studying the esoteric practices of a hedgewitch. Unlike most humans, you don't find the wilds to be all that challenging, so long as you stay well away from the Fae. You know how to search the land for useful plants and such, and you are quite good at making medicine with those plants, if you may say so.
You left your tutelage at the age of fourteen, after a disagreement with your former mistress about her overly friendly treatment of the Fae. You made your way to Taven, the capital of Edo, and sought to apprentice under another hedgewitch there.
Unfortunately, hedgewitches did not tend to pass through Taven, as the city had enough dedicated healers to last them. Instead, you managed to apprentice yourself under an aged healer, Chora.
Chora taught you a great deal about ritual magic. You were not at the ideal age to learn it, but you were not so old that you could not understand the concepts behind it.
Ritual magic was not precisely hard to learn. Thus, your teacher taught you a variety of things- anatomy, how to heal people, how to barter, how to defend yourself with a knife.
At the age of nineteen, after five years of apprenticing, you bid Chora farewell. Soon after, the King put out his call, asking for adventurers to rescue his daughter.
You accepted that call.
Okay. So, for those of you who don't really know what a quest thread is, it sucks to be you it's a type of thread in which I write a story, and you decide the way the story unfolds.
The framing device of this story is simple; the daughter of the King of Edo has been kidnapped. The King has hired several adventurers to search for her and bring her back unharmed. You are one of these adventurers.
As the story unfolds, I'll be writing small snippets like the one in the first post. At the end of each snippet, I'll present you with a list if options as to how to continue; the option that gets the most votes wins.
That's... pretty much it, actually. I'll give you information that's relevant to the story, characters, and setting as needed, or I'll expound upon any information you might need if you ask for it.
So... That's it. Get to voting! :V
List of postings:
Post 3
Post 4
Post 5
Post 6
Post 7
Post 8
Post 9
Post 10
Post 11
Post 12
Post 13
Post 14
Post 15
Post 16
Post 17
Post 18
Post 19
Post 20
Post 21
Post 22
Post 23
Post 24
Post 25
Post 26
Post 27
Post 28
Post 29
Post 30
Post 31
Post 32
Post 33
Post 34
Post 35
Post 36
Post 37
Post 38
Post 39
Post 40
Setting, Background and General Lore Stuff
On the nature of the Fae.
On necromancy and your initial goal at Iidan's Fall.
On glamours and how to fight them.
On the rules and nature of tracking magic and ownership.
On rituals.
On blood magic.
On changelings.
On necromancy, its public perception, and the rules governing summoned spirits.
On spectral assistants.
On tracking magic and non-Dark blood magic.
On perception and use of weapons.
[D] ((we vote here right?))
vv also that
Yep, vote away. Talk about any other elements, etc, too; it doesn't matter. I'll link any further snippets in the second past in future.
>flirt with pretty barmaid
[C]
I'm gonna go for [D].
Is a hedgewitch like a tree witch?
Anyway, [C]
They are famed for their gardening skills. It's almost like magic.
The term 'hedgewitch' came from a time several centuries ago, when the highways of Edo were bordered by hedges. The area outside of the hedges was considered 'unknown'. Hedgewitches were practioners of esoteric arts- sometimes magic, sometimes simply herbal remedies and knowledge of plants used in medicine. They would travel from village to village, walking beyond the hedges in order to gather materials and reagents for their various crafts. They are well-respected among smaller towns, as their charms, medicines and services are cheaper than calling a healer from a larger town, if occasionally less reliable.
People have forgotten what these terms mean nowadays, as the practice of lining highways with hedges has largely fallen out of use. These days, the highways are lined with iron fences, and smaller roads dot the landscape, not bordered by anything.
Anyway, writing up a post now.
So the land is known as Edo. Is there further Oriental connection?
Probably not, unless something slips by accidentally. I'm just making up names for places as I go.
[Three votes for D, D wins.]
"My name is Urien," you tell him. He looks suspiciously at you, to which you shrug- it's not your fault you don't have a last name; he can blame your parents' disappearance for that.
There's a momentary lull in the conversation, before he speaks up again.
"What brings you down this way?" He tries for a casual tone, but you can hear the faint suspicion in his voice again.
"You know, this and that," you reply vaguely. When his mouth thins, you rush to add, "I'm the daughter of a hedgewitch. I was heading in this direction when I heard about the Solstice Festival. I thought I might stop by and celebrate with you- plus, I'm sure that the men will appreciate my help on the morn after."
The barkeeper relaxes and laughs. "I'm sure they will, lassie!" he replies. "Anyway, I've left my customers alone long enough. Do you want a drink before I get back to it?"
You shake your head. "No, thank you," you say politely. When he grunts and turns away, you turn to observe the tavern again.
It is two days before the Soltice Festival starts. That gives you plenty of time to prepare. You have the tools of your trade stored in the pack on your back; checking your wallet, you have twenty silvers- probably enough to rent a room at the inn and buy meals. Having a roof over your head would come as a welcome relief, as would not having to prepare your own food, but you might want to conserve your coin.
You rub your forehead tiredly. You can't do anything until the Solstice Festival. As such, you have what is left of today- you estimate you have about two hours of sunlight left- and tomorrow to prepare yourself.
You wait a minute, resting your weary legs, before you sigh and climb off your stool. Duty awaits.
You consider your next step.
Are you going to:
[A] Travel beyond the town's borders, seeking any useful plants you could make into medicine, to keep or sell?
Find a safe place in the woods to camp?
[C] Stay in the tavern for a while, and listen to the local gossip and rumours so you can get a feel for what the town is like?
[D] Wander around town and meet with the locals?
[E] Write in? (Please provide a new action here.)
[C]. It sounds like I'd like some rest.
[C]
[C]
Taverns are the best place to get the feel of a given place, after all.
[Four votes for C; C wins.]
You try not to show your limp too much as you weave your way through the tavern, casually stealing the drink of someone who had turned to flirt with one of the barmaids. You walk away briskly, relieved when there is no cry of alarm.
You find a seat against a wall to sit at, then take a small sip of the man's ale (you don't want to drink too much of it, after all- you don't want to get drunk). Leaning forwards on your elbows, you half-close your eyes and prop your head on your hands. There are few ways to make people speak more freely around you that are more effective than making yourself appear to be too tired to listen.
Around you, people's voices meld into an indistinguishable roar. You concentrate on listening to different people around you.
You learn a few things about the town. It is called Iidan's Fall. (You recognize the name; Iidan was the name of a classic folk hero. He is the hero/villain of the play The Tragedy of Iidan, which describes his rise to power and his eventual fall from grace when he fell victim to the manipulations of the Fae.) The town is very excited for the Solstice Festival, which is apparently both a time for revelry and an attraction for many people from out of town, meaning more customers for local stores.
Your legs twitch when you hear someone talking about goblins. Apparently, goblin attacks have become increasingly frequent in the weeks leading to the Festival. You absently rub your bandaged leg.
Iidan's Fall is apparently quite well-known for producing silk and wine. You absently wonder if the town can continue on supporting itself indefinitely on the sale of luxury goods.
Lastly, you hear one farmer talking loudly to his friends about a figure in black robes he had seen on his farmstead. You strain your ears, trying to hear more information, but one of his friend elbows him in the ribs and makes a crude joke, and by the time they stop laughing, they've moved on to more ribald topics.
You sigh. The mug in front of you is still half-full, but you have no particular desire to drink it. By your estimation, you've spent upwards of half an hour in the tavern listening to people.
You push the mug away from you and stand up. You move to...
[A] Stretch your legs, before sitting down and trying to listen for a more specific piece of information. (Please indicate which piece of information you wish to listen for.)
Speak to one of the tavernhands about renting a room for the night.
[C] Wander about town and learn the layout.
[D] Leave for the woods outside of town, to gather reagents and set up camp for the night.
[E] Other. (Please specify which action you wish to take.)
[A] - Black Robe Guy.
[C]
[3 votes for A; A wins.]
You move to intercept one of the tavernhands, as they move around the tavern. Offering to buy people a drink often serves to loosen their tongues, and you're intrigued and wary by the mention of this black-robed figure.
"Excuse me," you ask softly. "How much would it cost to buy a drink?"
"Three pennies," she replies. "Why, you want one?"
You shake your head. "Not just yet, but maybe in a bit," you reply. "Thank you." The tavernhand inclines her head at you before continuing on with her job.
You head over to the table with the farmer who had been discussing the figure. Pulling up a stool from a nearby table, you sit down next to them and lean over. They look sideways at you.
"Hello?" one of the farmers ventures. "Can I help you there, miss?"
You nod your head cheerfully. "I couldn't help but to overhear about a figure in a black robe," you lie. "I've been keeping an ear out for someone dressed like that; I was sent by the Constable, over in Taver's Ferry, to hunt down a thief who had stolen his badge of office. Could you describe the figure for me?"
They look suspiciously at you. You grin widely at them- for once, your small stature helps; you can't help but to look non-threatening.
The farmer relents somewhat. "Yeah, I saw 'im," he grunts. "He came onto my field at night, when I woz milkin' Betty. I couldn't see 'im very good, because he woz wearin' a black robe that covers all his face. Sorta suspicious, you know? But he left right quick."
You nod, still smiling. "Which direction did the figure head in, can you remember?" you ask.
"'E was 'eaded into the woods, northa here," he replied. "or maybe 't woz east? Oi, you lot, which way's the sun come up?"
"Norf," one of his companion replies disinterestedly.
You nod absentmindedly, not bothering to correct him.
"Righto, then," the farmer replies. "'E was headin' souf when I saws 'im last."
West, then. That poses a problem; you're on the south side of town, and if you take the time out to go and search the western woods, you might not have enough time to find a camp before night falls and the Fae come out to play.
"Okay," you reply. "Thank you very much for telling me." You smile politely and drop two silvers onto the table. "Have a round, on me."
"Awright!" one of the farmer's friends cheered. "Thanks! You're awright, you know?"
You smile politely at him, mentally wincing at the loss of the coins. It was necessary, however; the additional alcohol would likely muddle up their memories of your conversation, and it would buoy their mood, making them unlikely to recall your conversation with them.
Sighing, you lean against a wall for a moment, then turn to head out towards the entrance. Your leg is throbbing.
Are you going to:
[A] Inquire with the doorman as to a relatively cheap inn to stay at?
Head into the southern part of the forest and find an area to camp out in?
[C] Head around the village, getting to know its layout and hoping to find somewhere comfortable to rest in?
[D] Head into the western woods in search of the black-robed figure?
[E] Something else? (Please describe what else you would like to do.
[D]. Guy will be long gone if you wait untill morning.
(And add in one vote for C, from lurkers on IRC who do not have an account here.)
[2 votes for D; I'm glad to see people are branching out.]
You really should check out this rumour of a black-robed figure. If you don't... well, the figure has probably already disappeared- if the farmers had enough time to meet up at the tavern for drinks, it's probably safe to assume that it was several hours ago, and he had mentioned that it was dark, which means it was at least half a day ago- but the longer you wait, the more unlikely it is that the figure will still be around.
Groaning, you make your way out of the tavern and orient yourself. Blinking against the sun, you start ambling westwards.
Luckily, most towns have a crossroads running through them, which meet at the village's square; one road running north-south, and one road running east-west. Iidan's Fall was no exception, so you could follow the road out of town, at least.
Glancing around the town as you walk around, you see that it is mostly well-tended. The houses are made of brick and tiles, for the most part, with few houses being made of wood or straw. Wells dot the town at regular intervals. The path you are walking on is well-maintained, the stone being regularly smoothed for easy walking.
It takes you a good half an hour to walk out of the village. The village is not huge, but it is a respectable size- you would guess it is over two miles from edge to edge.
When you reach the town's gates, the guards nod and let you through when they see your robes. You smile thankfully at them, before slipping off the side of the road, and out into the wilds.
From here... you don't really know where to go, so you stick to staying within several hundred feet of the road, occasionally ducking back to make sure you are still close enough to the road.
Your search continues for some time. You don't really know what you are looking for; some clues that the figure had passed through here recently, perhaps, or some sign of what the figure was doing. You do occasionally find indications of something odd- a dead rabbit, with its throat slit and its corpse barely chewed upon, for instance- but nothing that immediately screams out "The figure is here!".
The sun eventually dips below the horizon as you continue to search. You grimace, knowing that your search is about to get a lot more difficult.
Soon after sunset, you begin hearing strange sounds- muffled laughter, music, and a rythmic thumping. If you look over to the north, you can see a shimmering light.
You stand, indecisive. You're not sure if you should:
[A] Turn away and leave. It's night time in the woods. Everyone knows that the Fae rule the nights in the wild. Approaching any strange sights and sounds rarely goes well.
Tear a strip off your robe and blindfold yourself. Faerie glamours often fail if you blind yourself. It's risky, though- as with all precautions when dealing with the Fae, blinding yourself only sometimes works, and even if it does work, it will leave you unable to respond to any hostile attacks.
[C] Approach the area unblindfolded, trusting in your willpower to fight off the glamour.
[D] Other. (Please write what you would like to do.)
And, as it goes, now would probably be a good time to ask any questions you have about the Fae, etc.
(B)