Campaign 15: First Frolic Scenario 00: First Frolic Dawning Episode 02: What They've Been up to
	Date: 12562-02-10, Time: 1000 Location: Desert Port, Lewawan, The Gorvij Lands Default Language: Gorvij

Player Characters Present

Character	Player	Sex	Species/Race	Description
Alijar Ilarik	Weston	M	Hyuumin/Waujak	Thief
Arberiks Kroonit	Christine	F	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Sharpster
Bernee Spam	Kevin	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Thaumaturge
"Cat"	Melissa	F	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Fighter
Kootayu Ranshee	Wood	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Laeris Seelfaroo	Don	M	Hyuumin/Relt	Sharpster
Liraan	Corinna	F	Fl;ajessav/Challit	Scrapper
Markuutril	Cassidy	M	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Hieruirge
Niijel Buzelstumper	Bob	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Sharpster
Waun Chuu	Brad	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Wilnachet	Dennis	M	Hyuumin/Rinker	Fighter

Here is how the residents of the hostel have been spending their
time.

Throughout the winter Alijar Ilarik has kept mostly himself,
socializing only with Birnee and limiting his conversation to a few
specific subjects.

With the challit Liraan, Alijar wanted to talk about the flajessav
practice of nature worship. Had she ever communed with the Spirit of
Marijauna, he asked her. She had never heard of it. He grinned and
explained how he spends at least an hour in prayer every day and the
the spirit shows him special favor. So saying, he ran his fingers
through his hair, producing several hard black seeds. He offered
them to her, but she declined. She wasn't going to eat anything that
smelled like a hyuumin, however supernatural its origin.

With the two nildrer, he wanted to talk about the Happy Gods. The
nildrer have over 20 major deities, but only 2, Laran and Nam, are
charged with the management of things. The rest, the Happy Gods, are
said to be retired and enjoying their leisure. They prefer prayers
that involve fun. Waun's only response was to mutter about how his
whole situation seemed to be something the Happy Gods might set up,
considering he never meant to come here. Kootayu just said that
there was nothing in his life that the Happy Gods would be
interested in.

Alijar discovered three posters for Yar the Magnificent at the
tavern that Reridav the owner had overlooked. He took them, since
otherwise she would have burned them. He put one up by his bunk. He
was disappointed to discover that Waun shares the tavern keeper's
disdain for his hero.

Alijar has also been working on his combat skills, albeit not as
much as Cat. But he looks a lot more dangerous. The waujak eagle
axe, so called from its broad double head with rippled edges and
short pointed head hook, is a very intimidating weapon and his short
outdoor practice sessions show that he's familiar with its use. His
axe is one of the special models, in which the flat of the blade is
actually etched with the image of an eagle with outstretched wings
as seen from underneath. And the hook is brass and molded into the
shape of an eagle's head.

Having noticed the poster advertising seeds from the sunwheel, a
large single headed flower with many uses, he went to see the
seller, a gorvij named Armint. He demonstrated his ability to comb
marijauna seeds out of his hair and asked if Armint would be
interested in selling them. Armint said he'd need proof that the
seeds would actually produce viable plants. So Alijar put up some
posters of his own. He made 9 scepters profit over the cost of
printing after selling the accumulation of weeks of combing.

The thing that troubles Alijar the most is the attitude of local
authorities towards him. At home in the Waujak Lands, he was used to
griping about the nildrer and loudly objecting to imperial actions
towards other countries. But here, as a waujak he's under suspicion
as a subversive and as an imperial citizen he's under suspicion as a
possible spy.

Arberiks Kroonit has taken pains to make everyone's acquaintance.
After all, some of them may become her new travel companions. She's
also been checking out the town. It's a lot smaller than her
hometown and there seems little scope for business of any kind. And
that chief constable is like something out of childhood tale of
tyranny and heroism. Well he certain is a tyrant, but so far there's
been nothing to be heroic about.

Bernee Spam doesn't speak gorvij. He does speak dargaolhuun so he
can talk to the other vordins. Except Cat, who speaks only gorvij.
The only hyuumin he can speak to is Alijar the waujak. It turns out
that both are dedicated fans of the waujak entertainer Yar the
Magnificent.

Also, mindful of his need for a translator in this gorvij country,
Bernee makes a point of buying Alijar a drink every day.

Bernee has been to see Ashdor the alchemist to play guinea pig. His
voice, which like that of most dargaolhuuns had been half an octave
above the hyummin norm, is now 2 octaves above and sounds like a
rusty gate hinge. Which, when you think about it, is a strange
result for a hair tonic. Is it permanent? Who knows?

He took the money the alchemist gave him and went to Ghravnokh the
braksont. His request, relayed through Alidor, did something rarely
seen: caused a braksont to openly show surprise. Now his tag has an
extra metal plate on it. It's stamped on 1 side in gorvij and on the
other in waujak: "Property of Yar the Magnificent, if found please
return: REWARD". He wears it proudly.

Cat has started each day, as soon as it is light enough, by doing
exercises with her weapon. There's plenty of room to spar, even for
a hyuumin, for a dargaolhuun there's room to charge. So she slashes,
cuts, turns thrusts, blocks and dodges while most of the others are
still waiting for the day to get a bit warmer. Except for the dog,
Bilenkyuu, which watches her in fascination. Perhaps the hardest
part of Cat's drill is when she has her back to this creature, whose
standing height puts its head nearly at a level with hers.

Fortunately, once she's warmed up, Cat usually goes outside to
finish her workout.

Cat has been working on the wire fastening of her tag to the point
where she figures she can remove it in one motion. The strange,
filthy, addle brained gorvij Markuutril offered to help but she
insisted on doing it herself

Bernee has been careful to avoid eye contact with Cat, especially
when she's attacking imaginary enemies in the mornings. They haven't
formally met and she scares him. Of course this is completely
seperate from whatever has or has not been going on in that
curtained off bunk area. The dargaolhuuns call it "side time", when
regular relationships among them don't count.

Kootayu Ranshee has spent most of his evenings talking to the other
nildrer Waun, playing chess and mostly losing, even with handicap
rules. Waun wants to make sure that they support each other, as
nildrer should. At first Kootayu was puzzled by some of the phrasing
that Waun was using. They both speak nambethic, the imperial
language, but Waun's words were sometimes overly elaborate. He soon
realized that Waun must be using intalk, a verbal style in which
information is conveyed through oblique references. In the Nildrer
Lands it's considered a game, to non nildrer who may speak nambethic
but lack the cultural background, it's a secret code. Waun was
disappointed when Kootayu explained that he did not know intalk.

Kootayu seems seriously hampered with the weight of the extra large
tag he's been forced to wear. Nonetheless, he has been hobbling all
over town, often leaning on Waun. He found a store that listed
tobacco in its window but was disappointed by the other sign that
said it was closed until spring or First Frolic. He explained to
Waun that his condition is usually improved by a dose of the gorvij
herb trefk, a stimulant. Later, Waun gave him a small twisted root
that he said he got from the alchemist and that Kootayu should chew
it. Kootayu cautiously tried a bit. He felt a faint tingle and
realized that it was only one dose. He's been saving it for when he
really needs it.

Gradually, Kootayu has made his way to all the likely shops, only to
find that all are currently closed. One time he ended up so
exhausted that the Urkhart siblings brought him back to the hostel
in their cart.

He spends a lot of time in his bunk. When not talking to Waun, he
lies propped up with his empty pipe clutched in his teeth, writing
in a journal. The pipe appears to be extremely expensive.

Laeris Seelfaroo has listened to the others as best he can with his
limited knowledge of gorvij. With that and the loudmouthed constable
talking about his record, it's been difficult to make anyone's
acquaintance.

He's gotten an idea of where most of the others want to go, he also
knows that no one has a definite plan yet. He is quite eager to
leave Desert Port himself, but it's dangerous to travel alone in a
strange land. So he needs to leave in a group.

Or perhaps he can investigate the advertisement that refers to coach
operations.

Liraan is glad to see warmer weather. Living with hyuumins and
dargaolhuuns is not an experience she would care to repeat. At least
she had managed to impose order on her own corner of the hostel.
"Good livingspace" is a standard greeting between flajessavs, she
had not known how hard that could be to achieve. As for that
outhouse, the less said about that, the better. It will be good to
leave here.

Markuutril tried to find some work but there isn't any. He's been
telling all kinds of improbable stories of his life. But the
adventures he relates are fragmented and contradictory and he keeps
changing perspective from first to third person. He's also told
several different stories about his origin and childhood. At the
same time he seems woefully ignorant of a lot of current events.
It's almost as if he really doesn't know who he is and has borrowed
from other people's stories. But he certainly tells each story
vividly and intensely so it seems that at least at that moment he
truly believes he was there.

At first he tried to spend most of the days at the tavern, but they
wouldn't let him. So he's been wandering around town looking
hopefully to every citizen who walked by. He acts like he's looking
for someone, by the way he intently scans new faces, but since none
of them have reacted yet like they recognize him, he's about ready
to move on and try searching a new town, winter or no winter.

He's been waiting for First Frolic so he can get a glimpse of the
most reclusive citizens. Perhaps one of them will recognize him.

The first time Gremaan called the foreign refugees 'parasites',
Markuutril interjected that parasitic life could invigorate a dying
environment with new vitality. He did not expect that this
comparison would endear him to the townsfolk. But what did they
expect from a mushroom?

Alijar just smirked at that conceit. As a native speaker of waujak,
he knew that the while the word "markuutril" does refer to a
mushroom, it's a very specific kind: a big icky soft, soggy mushroom
that grows on rotting piles of debris or manure. There's nothing
invigorating about those mushrooms.

Niijel Buzelstumper listens to Markuutril's stories avidly, but
seems to be dissecting them. He mutters "could it be?" a lot. Once
he asked Markuutril, "was there a vordin there?" Markuutril answered
"how would i know?".

Still, he remembered the saying, "the presence of the Prisilu is
often apparent only by the shadow she casts from off stage".

It is apparent to many, especially Liraan, that Niijel has cigars on
him. Some days, he goes to the tavern and takes a few puffs while
drinking several cups of ferocious gorvij coffee. Sometimes he plays
with a deck of Angel cards.

Waun Chuu has spent his stay in town in a state of aggravation.
Memories of things that never were keep intruding into his
consciousness. He had thought to escape them through travel, but
somehow they had deposited him here. Desert Port, Lewawan. A place
he'd never seen before, but knew all too well. They don't like
nildrer here. They have a reasonable basis for that, since nildrer
history is one long narration of the annexing of neighboring
countries into the Empire. And Lewawan is the next neighbor.

Waun knew, as he went to the foreigner registration office as
required, that he would not get a polite reception. But he did not
expect the heavy tag which added, well insult to insult. He was
judged as equivalent to a convicted criminal and he resented that.
He still resents it, every time he feels the weight of that hunk of
metal. The interrogation was along the same lines. They kept asking
him about schemes and spies and magic-- they wondered if he had been
teleported here by imperial intelligence. He kept his answers as
simple as possible. If he told them the full truth, they'd likely
lock him away and call for an exorcist.

If only he really were connected with imperial foreign policy, he'd
show them some insidious machinations alright!

If only he had his cousin Zhaun here, and they really were working
for imperial intelligence as some of those fictitious memories
indicated. Zhaun, tall in his heavy plate, holding a massive nildrer
broadsword, while Waun stood ready to soften up the opposition with
a barrage of magic. They'd level the town. And then Waun would add a
psychological dimension to the damage with vivid reminders of the
"old time", the horrors of ferevee domination. He'd scrape the
nerves of the gorvij collective unconscious, still raw after 3000
years. Post traumatic ancestral memory is a real factor among all
gorvij populations, but in Lewawan, as far as Waun is concerned,
they deserve it.

If only. Waun's face relaxes from the look of demonic fury it had
assumed. The truth is that Waun has never had the amount of power
the memories gave him. And Zhaun has never had such nice equipment.
He wonders where Zhaun is now. And what did Zhaun mean in the note
he'd left, "make a different future"? Has Zhaun been suffering from
the same harrassing memories?

Waun did once go up to the chief constable and say "watch out,
there's a ferevee behind you!". But the chief is apparently not one
of the more sensitive gorvijes. He had stared for a moment, and then
responded, "they are behind us all, even the nildrer". Another
memory had surfaced then, a single name: Iiurunth. Waun had wondered
what would happen if he said it out loud. But it was a memory of
something that hadn't happened yet, still hasn't happened yet, in
that other life whose fragments are somehow out there. And besides,
the consquences had been bad, very bad, for gorvijes and nildrer
alike. He still might say it some other time. For now, he will just
observe. Perhaps he will find out something that will help the
Empire after all.

Another memory tease: obtaining a pair of high fashion mud dragon
boots for his father. By burglary? Couldn't be. Still, his father is
probably mad at him for not being where he was supposed to be, and
Lewawan is famous for its mud dragon boots. A gift would be prudent.
But he hasn't anywhere near enough money.

At least the hostel is roomy and offers some protection from the
weather. It's rarely been toasty, but with a fire in the hearth and
the covers wrapped tightly, it's bearable. He had experienced some
of the typical gorvij winter conditions before, but this winter
seems worse. But maybe it was just because he had been forced to
stay all the way through. He had been concerned about the trapdoor
in the roof, but after testing it had been reassured it was
immovable. Of course now that the mass of snow on the roof had been
reduced to a muddy slush, someone might possibly be able to break
the tar seal. Well, after tomorrow that would not be his problem.

As for the others, there is much to be suspicious about. How ironic
that the most alien of them, the challit Liraan, has not been
tagged. It must be that gorvij superstition about the power of what
they called "cold iron".

But there is another nildrer, the frail, sickly Kootayu. Even lying
down he seems exhausted, carrying the weight of the large convict
tag limits his mobility during the day. They have spent a lot of
time together, conversing in nambethic, and playing chess. At night
Waun brings out a small rod that glows with a strong white heatless
light. He's never offered to share it with any of the non nildrer.

Waun's exploration of the town has revealed little of interest,
other than the alchemist's shop where he bought the root for
Kootayu. He also had the alchemist start making a batch of strong
acid, just in case the constable renegs about removing the tag.

He attempts to strike up a conversation with Bronderet the weaver.
The Chuu Affinity, Waun's family's corporation, is in the
import/export business. Perhaps her family would be interested in a
deal. But she seems averse to talking to a nildrer. All she'll say
is he'll have to talk to her parents.

But Tiireen the entertainer is more approachable. Their common
dislike of self proclaimed superstar Yar the Magnificent is a good
starting point for socializing. She shares a few of her own
scurrilous songs about the egomaniacal waujak. However she is always
a little reserved, a little not quite friendly, seemingly having
something else on her mind.

In the mornings, Waun quietly enjoys the free show put on by the
vordin Cat. Watching her whirl about attacking shadow enemies for
practice would be amusing all by itself, but Bilenkyuu's
attentiveness added another level of hilarity.

The rinker's dog is pure comedy with the sharp focus on the vordin
as it watches these exercises, and the vordin stiffens up when she
notices the dog watching. Waun hides his smiles, and reserves
comment to himself so as not to make this Cat angry, gods forbid.
Waun enjoys being able to walk too much to risk being cut off at the
knees, and only laughs while remembering the dog's fascinated looks
while the vordin furiously (snort!) whips her "axe" around.

During the day, he likes to hang out at the tavern. Early on, he had
paid Reridav the owner a generous amount to assure himself of better
fare than the basic meal offered free to the hostel residents.
Reridav had taken the trouble to set up one of the cumbersome
devices the gorvijes call warm brewers. With this, she makes a small
amount of rich mild vordin style coffee every day. Waun has first
claim on it. Waun enjoys his coffee, along with the music of
Tiireen. Except for that one day when Niijel, looking up from his
own coffee and cigars, asked Tiireen, "Do you know any songs about
the Prisilu?" Waun had picked up his spilled cup and gripped it
tightly, as if trying to keep from hurling it, and retorted "no she
doesn't!"

Since then, Waun has tried to make sure to visit the tavern when
Niijel isn't there.

And each night, before Waun sleeps he surrounds himself with a
simple security alarm of string and bells. And he's made it clear
that he will defend his property with more than physical means. The
broken slat on the bunk of the relt Laeris is the result of a
demonstration of this ability.

The crushing cold begins to lift early, earlier than the constable
had thought was likely. Should the day remain sunny through this
First Frolic, then the free accomodations must be abandoned and this
motley assortment of castaways must fend for themselves. Yet more
planning to do, more sleep to lose, and eventually Waun will have
his freedom back. Soon.

Wilnachet tries to be friendly to anyone who talks to him, although
a little disinterested. There's so much to absorb in a foreign land
that it's almost overwelming. The nildrer Waun Chuu asks about his
past, mainly it seems to determine if he really is a warrior.

Wilnachet responds at length. He freely describes his journey north
from the Rinks with a gorvij caravan. They travelled through several
nildrer and gorvij provinces and finally ended up in Ijaleheks. Then
they went down the elevator at Violet Falls. In Violet Junction, the
caravan was broken up and he accompanied the last wagon to Desert
Port. Now he's planning to find a caravan south that he can join. It
occurs to Waun that this barbarian may actually have more money than
he has on him at this point.

Wilnachet suspects that Waun wants to hire him. But if he can afford
to, why is he in the hostel? In fact, he and the other one, Kootayu,
may show an air of sophistication, but they are the least impressive
specimens of the mighty nildrer that Wilnachet has seen since his
journey began. All the nildrer he had met previously were quietly
efficient and suffocatingly wealthy. "Steel under silk", his gorvij
employers had muttered. These two wear silk, but there is little
steel evident.

As a rinker on foot and outside the Rinks, Wilnachet's thoughts
naturally turn towards getting a horse and returning home.
Unfortunately there are no horses availble at this time. And of
course, no caravans headed south. "Wait until spring" is the
universal answer. Perhaps he could start out on foot and find
something further south. But he'd need supplies, and apparently
those too must wait.

He'd need directions as well. While the fact that he had come north
to Violet Junction and then east to come here suggests that he
should go southwest to go home, the people he had come with had a
lot to say about impassable cliffs and murderous bandits and how any
savvy traveler would take the long way back the way he came. "A true
warrior fears no journey" would be the automatic response in the
Rinks, but his views have broadened and he's learned that his people
are not the only ones with wisdom.

He thinks about these things as he walks around the town with
Bilenkyuu. The dog has recovered nicely from its encounter on the
road. Those creatures the gorvijes call dune dogs may be small, but
they have nasty bites. Sometimes he lets Bilenkyuu go out to where
there is still snow and pretend to hunt. Too bad there are no
rabbits out there, it might stop the dog's morning urge to bite a
vordin.

Poor Cat! People that small might look almost edible to Bilenkyuu!
Or at least like a toy. Lately, the dog has been giving him that
look that indicates he's expecting a "retrieve the game" command.
Wilnachet is concerned that the dog might hurt the vordin, or vice
versa. Bilenkyuu's a friend and expensive, and Cat looks a little
insane. He makes sure that Bilenkyuu understands that he should hold
still.