Battle for Vulture Point, Act II Scene V

 The streets of Serin unfolded about our heroes in all of its glory. Choosing to go south rather than face the warren of Scornbul, they observed the widening of the lanes, the cobbling of the sidewalks and the growth of land surrounding the houses as they worked their way towards Orchid. From several points along the way the Rheel was visible to their right, sparkling in the westward setting sliver of the sun, the moon already visible and half full towards the east. The street was well peopled with others taking their evening constitutionals, from the various members of the old nobility to the gnomish nuveau riche, the men in their top hats with canes, the women with trailing dresses and corsets. As the trip continued both Hiram and Melas began to detect a slight air of snobbery from those they passed - an attitude that might have been cultivated by the many other young swordsmen who have taken up residence in Serin over the years only to sink into the depths of the warrens or the grave as their funds, fate or luck abandoned them. 

This subtle snubbing was shattered when the quartet passed four young swordsmen of a nature very similar to their own, only to hear afterwards one remark to his companions "did you see that monstrosity with them?" Melas, well accustomed to such comments and the need to clear them with blood, stiffened ever so slightly and turned, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the miscreant. The octet faced each other for a moment or two while it became clear that Melas' antagonist would not retract his unkind statements. Instead that fellow suggested that they retire to a nearby garden often used for the clarification and conclusion of such arguments. 

On their way to the local bower of blades Hiram took some pains to declaim to the passers by lines from a common play of the last decade that made the encounter seem very much like a great duel of the ages - with his side in the heroic role of course. One of the other party seemed to take this poorly, but when he warned Hiram to keep quiet the young actor merely bated him more. 

Once the groups reached the garden - with scattered marble benches, tables, chess stands, and arched lattices containing ivy that would bloom prettily in a few months - the four quickly resolved into pairs of two. It was quickly clear that there was no formal witness present to make the duel legal, and the consensus was for duels to first blood: for their parts Dietrich and his lanky opponent, who introduced himself as Donato de la Ballesteros, saw this more as an opportunity to test their skills rather than avenge any slight; Cybele's chosen opponent, a not unattractive young man named Florian de la Ballesteros, had already suffered a first touch at the sight of the sorceress' eyes, also agreed to first blood only. When Hiram squared off against the target of his japes, whose name he learned was Raul de la Ballesteros - to discuss terms that older fellow growled that the terms of thing between them should be obvious as he drew his heavy longsword. Hiram, with a hopeful quirk of his eyebrow, asked if that mean first blood, only to see his foe give a very thin smile. When Hiram pressed again the man agreed to first blood with a chuckle that indicated his initial opinions of the youth had been well confirmed. Melas and his elven opponent, named Victor d'Berangere, but whose colors indicated that he was a cousin at the least to the de la Ballesteros, were both more desirous of a greater degree of bloodshed but also more concerned about the intrusion of the law after such a lethal battle. Eventually Victor nodded to Melas' imprecise 'first dipping of the wick' into the other and the battles were joined. 

Dietrich's was over the fastest, showing the advantages of the constant drilling for speed and accuracy inherent in the von Eisenwald family style. His opponent had obviously hoped to use reach to his advantage, but Donato had not counted on Dietrich's skill at slipping past a blade, laying down a pinprick on the taller man's side that both agreed would have been a dangerous, perhaps fatal strike had the men been in a less formal duel. Their affair concluded the two shared a companionable silence as they viewed the outcome of the others. 

Hiram's quickness served him in his battle as well, darting his smaller weapon in past Raul's blade. The young actor felt a slight pressure on the blade as it slid past Raul's arm, flicking into or just barely through the older man's leather fencing glove as his canny foe moved to prevent a deeper penetration. This dissuaded Raul not at all as the longsword's progress continued through in its clear arc - instinct brought up Hiram's guard, which was obviously as Raul intended, for the thin weapon was at a bad angle and shattered immediately under the heavy blade. Swinging around for a fatal backstroke Raul checked his swing and, with the air of someone dealing with a mosquito bite, lifted his hand to his sleeve and pressed out the drop of two of blood that Hiram's stroke. "Oh. First blood. It seems you won." He glanced down at the shards of Hiram's blade and, by extension, Hiram's honor before fishing out a small card. "Here's the card for my solicitor, boy. He should be able to make amends for my… miscalculation." 

Melas and Victor, both obviously skilled fencers used to defending their honors, both started with defensive postures, making noncommittal strikes and solid parries to defend their space. During the first few passes Melas eyed his opponent carefully, recognizing the design of the man's armor as the sort that has been braced with metal at vital points for additional protection and adjusted his pattern of attack to accommodate for that. His perceptions didn't aid him much, as his opponent's constant emphasis on defense made him impossible for Melas to hit, but likewise made his attacks too tentative to score on the hunchback - either Victor was not prepared for Melas speed or, more likely, was aiming to tire him out so that first blood would be a fatal blow through the heart. Seeking an advantage Melas leaped onto one of the benches and from that height lay down a flurry of slashes and thrusts with his rapier, only to see his opponent continue to defense them with a fierce expression of tightly held anger. Melas had found a second, more vulnerable, weak spot. 

Using the length of the bench to buy himself a second to think, he dredged up what he knew of the d'Berangere lineage, recalling a few scandals, as well as a distant rumor of chaos taint. As Victor leaped onto an adjoining bench Melas pressed his attack on two fronts, as it were, and while d'Berangere was able to block his steel he could not block out his words. After a few seconds the elf's temper snapped - he abandoned his extreme defense in favor of an aggressive attack, and when that did not score a hit he leaped again to one of the nearby chess tables to claim the height advantage. Prepared for the move, Melas struck, driving his blade through the elf's leading thigh at the moment when it was outside his defense. Caught off-guard the otherwise agile foe felt his leg slide from under him and he made a rapid and painful descent into the dirt. 

Melas casually stepped down from the bench, cleaning his blade as the elven noble cursed into the dirt and composed himself before standing. Once upright the elf called to Donato for healing only to hear that tall man respond "You got yourself into this, cousin. If your life is not at risk I see no reason to aide you in your folly." Instead Raul assisted the elf in standing, and Melas could feel the hatred radiating from his justly defeated foe as he stood next to Hiram. 

"I wonder if they're the sort that holds grudges," the young actor inquired in a whisper. Melas replied "It doesn't matter if they are, because I am." 

Having witnessed these events Cybele turned to her adversary, who smiled with warmth bordering on radiance. "How about a side bet - the winner buys the other drinks?" offered the forward young man, and Cybele smiled in return. Determined to win such a bet and secure an evening with this charming rogue, she uttered a brief enchantment to guide her blade before the battle started. The two fencers moved as one as time seemed to slow in Cybele's mind: she saw his blade approaching, felt the gentle pressure of his practiced move that slid her blade off line, felt the very feather touch of his rapier leave a shallow cut on the back of her hand. This was mere tenths of a second before the enchantment inched her saber back on line, invalidating his parry and squaring the blade with his chest during his lunge. Her heavier blade entered point first between his ribs and with a quiet sigh exited the other side. The pair's first embrace was as he collapsed into her, gasping as blood welled around the saber's edge. Even still the fair Florian smiled at his ill won victory, and then collapsed. 

Both Hiram and Donato moved in an instant, but the young actor was the closer of the two, and with a flourish of silks he drew the wound away as the white kerchief both absorbed and assumed the crimson stain. This earned Hiram a clap on the back from Donato as the lady Floriane assisted Florian, both victors and vanquished, to his feet. As Raul and Victor skulked off into the embrowning night the remaining six decided to travel together to dinner, that Florian might make good the price of his victory and the others might bond over a good meal.

Weekly Cooking Report May 9: Grilled Chicken Souvlaki with Green Peppers and Onion

 It's still the start of grilling season my friends, so fire that sucker up. 

This week comes from Cooks Illustrated again, so no easy website to link you to, but this one is hardly complicated enough to warrant the longer description. 

Shopping trip: for the skewers (and you'll need 4 skewers if you don't have them; yes I only used 3. Shut up and listen.)
1 ½ pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 green bell pepper, quartered, stemmed, seeded, each quarter cut into 4 chunks
1 small red onion, ends trimmed, peeled, halved lengthwise, each half cut into 4 chunks

for the marinade: 
⅓ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest plus 1/4 cup juice (2 lemons)
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon dried oregano

for the recommended Tzatziki Sauce
1 bottle of premade Tzatsiki sauce. Don't kill yourself here. 

Also pick up some pita bread. The CI recipe has a whole thing about fancy ways to grill the bread in aluminum foil, but it's not necessary. (The bread isn't even really necessary if you want to serve over rice; just don't forget to the cook the rice! Or... COUSCOUS, the lazy person's rice!)

OK, get a quart of cold water, dissolve 2 tablespoons of salt in it and chuck the chicken in. Cover it and set it in the fridge to brine for 30 minutes. While that's happening take all the marinade ingredients and mix them together; once that's done set 1/4 cup aside in a bowl for serving. 

Once the 30 minute brine is done. dry the chicken with paper towels and toss it into the marinade. Take a skewer and thread 1/4 of the pepper onto it, concave side up. Then thread on 1/4 of the chicken, and then 1/4 of the onions, concave side down. You can see how it looks in the picture. Repeat till you have all 4 skewers ready 

Heat and clean the grill per manufacturer instructions. Once it's hot lay the skewers on it and cook, turning every 4 minutes or so until all sides are cooked. Tae one skewer off the flame and test with a probe thermometer for 160F. If it's not quite there, keep them on another few minutes, rotating every minute or so for even cooking. You should be good at 20 minutes max. 

Use a fork to push the contents of the skewers into the bowl with the set aside marinade, cover with foil and let sit for 5 minutes. Serve with the pita and Tzatsiki for a grateful family!

New Salem: Renaissance - ...The Universe...

The second in our trio of powers that need modification, Cosmic Awareness. This one needs tweaking because first of all it's not a great adaptation of how the power appears in the comics, and also because it has a degree of meta play that doesn't let it translate as an NPC ability (which is very unusual for V&V)

That's a lot of highly specific text for a power that certainly seems to be designed to not be used, and when used gives a minimum effect. "Correct answers to Yes or No questions" is definitely not worth it for an average charisma hero asking even a single question: that's a 50/50 chance of being messed up. So the player needs to spend a massive amount of Power, say, 25+ points, to get even a 75% chance to to make an attempt. And even then the chance of finding something is, for an average hero, 1 in 3. 

Essentially as written the power is useless without some combination of Heightened Intelligence and Heightened Charisma. Worse, it doesn't really match what Cosmic Awareness did in the comics, with the best known practitioner being Captain Marvel, who was literally granted Cosmic Awareness in the run on his series. This provided him with a general sense of oneness with the universe, let him detect and locate cosmic level threats, and acted similar to a 'spider-sense' in terms of predicting physical harm. I don't know that the term existed in comics prior to that, even if there are other people who have displayed some version of it, including Spider-Man, whose spider-sense might as well be a low level Cosmic Awareness. 

The problem is that almost any other implementation of Cosmic Awareness is just Heightened Senses. Even this iteration of Cosmic Awareness is just "asking questions of the GM" carved out so it's not taken as a Heightened Sense. 

So what do we want Cosmic Awareness to do? I think the general answer is that the character is passively aware of threats to the cosmos and can learn things they would have no way of knowing.

Mechanically this means:

If there is some threat to the cosmos (or the planet, continuity, whatever) the Gm treats it like any other sense: if it's likely big enough for the character to sense it as they would any other stimui, they do. Less obvious cosmic threats, they have a chance equal to their detect danger to sense it. Cosmic Awareness also helps characters using any other senses, letting them re-roll any missed Detect Hidden or Detect Danger checks due to their cosmic senses. 

If the player wants to learn something specific, it's a d% save vs. I * 3, and if successful the GM will give them some level of information about it. The character can spend 1 point of power per 1% added to their chance of success, so this can be exhausting. Failure means no meaningful answer, but not incorrect information; the character knows they can't interpret what they are sensing. Failure by more than 20% causes the character to get lost in the universe - treat this as Paralysis Ray with a d% save vs. Charisma to recover themselves - and if they miss the roll by more than 40% they also take 3d10 Power damage as if hit by Devitalization Ray. 

I think this is a lot cleaner in the concept of the power being a general information feeder, a double for danger sense, and a way to get something closer to an Augury from D&D as opposed to a set series of Yes/No questions that has to be gamed out. 

Battle for Vulture Point Act II Scene IV

As the quartet slumbered their worthy coachman pushed the horses onward, further up the trail into the mountains and then down the carefully modulated descent of switchbacks that lead to the city that was both near and far. Eventually Hiram and Dietrich awoke and took in their first sight of the chaotic city, the distance obscuring some of the confusion and lending the whole an aura of planning that it did not deserve. To the south were the interspersed manors and farms that made up the Orchid, linked to the rest of the city by the river, the aqueduct and a trio of broad, flat boulevards and bounded by the simple stone walls of the distant farms or the gated walls of the mansions. Further north along the Rheel were the colored houses, painted roofs, and tall towers of Serin, the lots becoming smaller and the houses more densely packed until they fused with one another - that fusion marking the first boundary with Scornbul. The second boundary was when the architecture went mad, Scornbul growing and twisting upon itself so that it looked as if someone had taught ants carpentry, and this was the mound that resulted. The city became a mass of wood, impossible to distinguish one house from the next or even ascertain what streets might go where. To the west was the swamp - which they felt certain they would never, ever have cause to enter - and to the east, their avenue of approach, lay Ferrantino. 

By the time they approached the gates the others had been roused for their first look at their new home with the sliver of sun still barely past midday (the Dusty Road in being set one day's ride up, rather than down the mountain). That first encounter was of a mix of smells - as the breeze blew in from the sea it was salt and the mass of humanity that was Scornbul, when it blew from inland it was of the more common smell of gardens and cattle. The crowd before them hindered movement, but their worthy coachman pressed on, trusting that the livery of the imperial coach would see them past the busy guards at the gate. 

Once in the city, the street was temporarily blocked by a crowd of halfling and gnomish members of the mercantile class arguing about the disposition of a rolling wooden construction bearing dozens of plucked ducks, the purchasing gnome insisting that he had also paid for the ducks feather's while the halfling, brandishing a contract, pointing to a total lack of clause indicating the same (having no doubt already made a profit selling the down to a different vendor). Shortly thereafter they were stopped again by another such construction laden with raw fabrics wheeled through the street, followed by one bearing finished clothes. 

The coachman took this time to warn them about the street vendors, and if any leaped onto the running boards with offers they didn't want to consider to simply let him know and he would take the whip to them. This made the good man appear oracular as mere seconds later one young man did just that, informing them of the best prices for rooms in the immediate surroundings if they would just follow his direction… the pitch was cut short by the sound of the crop and the good nobles lowered the shades somewhat to avoid attracting as much attention. 

Even still it was a lost battle, with merchants, venders, hucksters and buskers of all sorts running up to the coach and leaping on to make offers of all kids - fabrics, foods, frolicsome companions - to those wealthy and well positioned enough to afford the nobleman's transit. The most ambitious and well prepared of these was a young man offering directions to the best hotel in Ferrantino who had possessed the foresight to bring a large metal expanding shield with which to fend off the coachman's crop. Melas was able to dissuade the man with a shove.

Still, his presence had raised a question of where to stay. This is when Lord von Eisenwald revealed to his companions that he was coming to the city to claim a family estate, a house in Serin, which ought to have space enough to house the four of them in some comfort. This was quickly agreed upon, so that when inquired as to a destination other than the Ferrantino yards they were able to provide an address with such certainty that the issue could scarcely ever have been in doubt. 

A destination now determined and the crush of the crowd soon past them they were able to take in more of the view. The sound of a large crash caught their attention, and they could see that clever merchants who had warehouses by the Ferrantino gate - a less desirable position now that more of the goods came in through the docks than the road - had found a way to make use of the viaduct, carrying their goods in narrow, long boats along that elevated river and then hiring apprentices wizards to make such goods temporarily weightless with a common alteration magic so that they might float down to the ground with the gentleness of a duck's feather near the aforementioned warehouses. As evidenced by the crash, sometimes the apprentices' timing is poor. Dietrich suggested that if perhaps the apprentices were made to ride the boats down they would be more certain of their timing. 

Cybele pointed out to the south the massive, intimidating construction that was the Ferrantino library - like all of Ferrnatino it was stone, but in this case a pure white marble with the classic 110 steps and 11 pillars later adopted by the old Imperial Court as being the proper design for structure of high social merit (some scholars will argue that the design originated the greensward and was mimicked from there, the age of the library, rebuilt as it was by the d'Ferranntino family with dwarvish laborers almost immediately after the city was reclaimed, stand stalwart against this theory). Hiram reminded all that the steps were made famous on the stage in the initial play of the 'Petros the Pugilist' sextet. All agreed that it was indeed a classic but felt that the middle pieces were weak (the one with Petros fighting a bare-knuckled match against a chaos beast bull man was, while a crowd pleaser, had little artistic merit), and the later ones with the aged Petros were attempting to bring pathos to a character too well defined as a glorious youth in the earlier works.

And with that erudite discussion of the arts, they moved from Ferrantino to Serin, and once in Serin the roads opened to their carriage, and they made good time to the von Eisenwald house. 

The house at which the coach stopped was a tastefully apportioned two- and one-half story wooden construction of the sort commonly built during the reign of Emperor Segundo 'the moderator', the 22nd, and second to last, ruler of the empire. The front yard was just the size enough for a formal duel and well kept, and the house itself appeared to be in excellent shape despite having been uninhabited since the death of Archibald Von Eisenwald some three years previous. Dietrich approached and knocked once, and after a moment the door was opened by a smartly dressed halfling in a bowler hat and waistcoat. 

"Good evening, sirs, lady. I am Rudolph Eisenwald, local solicitor to the von Eisenwalds. Your appearance suggests to me that you are Dietrich von Eisenwald, but I trust you will not take it amiss if the formalities of the situation necessitate my asking for your identifications," the small man said as he ushered the four noblemen into the house. Upon seeing that all was in order he proceeded to explain the arrangements his firm had made for the new von Eisenwald arrival. To wit: all of the rooms had been cleaned and aired all of the bedrooms had been set with fresh linens; the larder had been stocked with sufficient food for a day or two, including some cured ham; the inventory of the wine cellar had been confirmed; a local day servant had been arranged and would begin work the following day. There were no night servants employed as yet, given the expense and contract obligations of hiring the dwarves for the evening work, and since there had been no set date for the new lord's arrival the firm felt that erring towards practicality in expenses was in the lord's best interest. 

(Melas: I look the halfling over to see if he is concealing anything. Is he? GM: No Melas: Then I ignore him.)

Dietrich spent a few moments going over most of the papers as presented - all save a sealed letter - that confirmed the arrangements and quickly tabulating that the money the few small halfling farms outside the city still attached to this house would serve to cover the cost of taxes, salary for a servant (if the servant were full time and provided lodgings) or two (if they lived off site and worked only during the day), a stipend for an acceptable food supply that would be stretched with his companions present and a very small amount left over. That was when Rudolph presented his card and stated that if the new Lord von Eisenwald found the arrangements to date acceptable that the firm of Eisenwald, Eisenwald and Altmann would be most pleased to continue the professional relationship and could promise to provide a four hour response time to any inquiry from the Von Eisenwald estate. Seeing that the cost of the solicitor's monthly retainer would bring his income balance to a net zero Dietrich shrugged, replied that thing were indeed acceptable and presented the halfling with Lord Ambleer's letters to the four governors for delivery. The small man accepted them with precision, bowed sharply and then, with permission, took his leave. 

Dietrich then slit open and read the letter; it was from Portia d'Ferrantino, head loremistress of the Ferrantino Library and scion of the line from which that quarter took its name. With both brevity and precision the letter laid out how the library had been in negotiations with the previous lord von Eisenwald concerning the donation of his library; negotiations that were not yet complete at the time of his unfortunate demise. The lady d'Ferrantino wished to introduce herself to the von Eisenwald heir with the admitted goal of re-starting those negotiations at a later date. To that end he was invited to visit the library at his convenience and arrange a time to dine with her as soon as his schedule permitted.  

Melas and Cybele took it upon themselves to explore the house without delay, (Cybele: Is there a wine cellar? Melas: You beat me to it!) while Hiram watched their worthy coachman unload their luggage and deliver it - lacking any other indication of who would be lodging in which room - in the front hall before he, Hiram, glanced through the other rooms in the first floor, a task which Dietrich also undertook once he had concluded affairs with his solicitor.

The house was in excellent order, the wine cellar somewhat thinly stocked but serviceable, the veranda off of the dining room overlooking a back yard that could do with some thorough refurbishing, with a bird bath and fountain centrally located and rose bower to the right that was overgrown with the thorny stalks. The second floor held bedrooms enough for the four of them - the frontward facing bedroom with direct access to the second story porch and a tower space reachable only by a tightly wound circular stair. The backmost bedroom had a small balcony as well, and a closet that contained a concealed space for the caching of weapons, which was quickly made home to their various treasures, magical artifacts and the rescued remains. The remainder of the frontward half-story, other than the tower, naturally, held a widow's walk (from which one could, with the craning of the neck and a sufficiently advanced imagination to see through the multi-storied wooden warren that was Scornbul, make out the ocean) and long space lined with bookshelves and books, a comfortable chair and the evidence on the worn floorboards of fencing training of the von Eisenwald style. 

All in all it was deemed quite acceptable by its new owner and his friends. Rather than face cooking for themselves just yet they decided to briefly explore their new neighborhood and see what sort of entertainment it might offer

I committed a filksong: The Ballad of Petrilly Gill

 The Ballad of Petrilly Gill

(To the tune of the Eagles _Lyin’ Eyes_)

 

Halfling girls just seem to find out early

How to open doors with pick and file

A rich old mark so she won't have to worry

She'll mask in black and climb the wall in style 

 

Late at night a big old house holds plenty

Where each antique and stature has its price

And it breaks her heart to think she’s has to leave some

But her fence has asked she grab that diamond ice

 

So she finds the safe and gets on with the thievin’

Pick the locks and shut all the traps down

Grabs the bag of gems but as she is leavin'

A shadow there with maw turned in a frown.

 

She can't hide from flyin' eyes

And her mask is a thin disguise

Awash in fear she’ll realize

her mark is just a sphere of many eyes

 

At a dockside bar her favorite fence is waiting

Tracking goods that come and go with the tide

As she runs away from as abomination

She hopes he has ways to get her out alive

 

“Because if we fall, we will fall together”

She whispers that cold warning with a smile

“Beholders grudges, they go on forever,

They are nothing but malice, hate, and guile.”

 

She can't hide from flyin' eyes

And her mask is a thin disguise

Awash in fear she’ll realize

her mark is just a sphere of many eyes

 

She adds this job to ones that she’s regretted

And stares out at the stars up in the sky

Out in the night, the sphere is silhouetted

And her fence tried to run with no goodbye

 

She wonders how it ever got this crazy

She thinks about the pro she used to be

Did she get gulled or did she just get lazy?

After killing him, her paths are fight and flee

 

“My, oh my, you sure know how to arrange things

You set me up so well, so carefully”

Taking his poor worthless life just didn't change things

As the sphere appeared and she cursed silently

 

She can't hide from flyin' eyes

And her mask is a thin disguise

Awash in fear she’ll realize

her mark is just a sphere of many eyes

There ain't no way to hide from flyin' eyes

Her death approaches with nine old magic eyes