Swords'n'Sorcery Part 1

 Episode Name:  Swords'n'Sorcery Part 1
   Written By:  Genesis
         Cast:  Caeli, Cristobal, Genesis, Jameson, Lao, Medes, Risa, Solok, 
                Talesin and Va'tol.
  Produced By:  Starfleet
  Directed By:  Genesis
     Aired On:  Thu Jun 05 23:30:13 2003
     Stardate:  53267.5

Time: Thu Jun 05 19:18:17 2003

Stardate: 53267.0

Lao is waiting in the holodeck, nothing loaded yet, leaning on his staff as he waits for the others to arrive.

Cristobal walks in. He shifts the chainmail he wears under his robe, trying to accustom himself to the heavy armor.

Risa is the pimp priestess; one man on each arm. Granted, she looks like a big dork, and her mood is more friendly than, say, the prelude to slapping them across the room, but hey, the idea's there. The men happen to Talesin and Jameson, and as they pass through the holodeck doors, she mutters, "This is a ridiculous outfit."

men happen to BE. Yeah.

Solok comes in, dressed in his carefully replicated leather gear. He immediately heads towards Lao, grumbling en route, "Figures, the Ferengi gets typecast as a thieving little creature."

Summoning her holo-short-sword as she steps through the arch with a simple, "Computer, create short sword," Medes tucks it into the sheath on her belt and idly adjusts the black helmet on her head. Solok's comment only earns him a roll of her eyes.

. o O Medes thinks "Blah blah Ferengi blah blah whatever I'm a thief too. It's just a game."

Jameson does have one of his arms twined with Risa's as they come in. "But you look so cute, love. I might ask you to wear it outside of the holodeck." He chuckles a little. "Don't you think she just looks di-vine, Keth?" He takes a cue from Medes and asks the computer to generate his staff with a brief description.

Talesin slips in with Risa and Jameson, cheeks colored slightly, fidgiting with his clothing. "At least you're not an Elf... These ears are going to offend a Vulcan, or something." he murmurs, tucking a strand of hair back. "Or worse, a Romulan." he nudges Risa with his elbow as he speaks, smiling. "Oh, yes. A regular goddess." a wink, and then he's asking the computer for his sword. Like he knows how to use it.

Lao shrugs to Solok. "Actually, you're primarily an illusionist. The lock-picking and trap-disarming aspect of your character have more to do with surviving fiendish traps than stealing from people." He nods to Medes. "-She's- the thief." He looks around to the group. "Okay, well, welcome to Episode One, of what I hope is an ongoing thing. I hope you all got my messages. We'll be starting our adventure in the tavern of the Battered Gryphon, in the port city of Talandra, capital of the kingdom of the same name. Anybody got any questions before I load the program?"

Cristobal glances at Medes and says with a grin, "I should probably arrest you or something." After a pause he says, "Wait, no, I'm not Sec...police...whatever we have." He shrugs, "Rob me and I'll squash you," he offers instead, winking.

Medes just eyes Cristobal, crossing her arms across her chest. 'Course, he's used to getting the hairy eyeball from someone in black armor about twice her size, so it's probably not really all that intimidating. "No, thanks. More just a disclaimer. I can't act." Pause. "Just so you know."

This is, of course, addressed to Lao as Thea eyeballs Cristobal.

Lao nods to Medes. "Well, give it the ol' college try, sir." He looks to the others, brows raised, waiting for questions.

Jameson chuckles. "I'm not sure how good I'll be at this either, but it sure sounded like fun." He looks to Lao, "So let me get this straight, I can get a read of the general mental state of folks, and I can influence them using mind magic? How far does that influence go? A mind control kind of thing? Or more like hypnotic suggestion?"

"You can ask all you want," Risa says sweetly to Jameson. "I'll just say no. And you keep quiet, Keth. I didn't know what to wear. What does a 'priestess' wear in this game? It's not as if I know. I guessed." She then arches a brow at Jameson's question to Lao, muttering as a dry aside to Talesin, "That's all we need: giving HIM mind control."

. o O Medes is a bit trepidatious. Acting? Well, it /sounded/ like fun...

Lao answers Jameson, "It's like a mind control thing. A really potent hypnotic suggestion, and you'll find it easier to put little thoughts in their heads or influence their emotions." He turns to the group. "Wizards, you've got to remember to use your keywords, or the computer won't recognize spells." He looks back to Risa. "You look" a certainly lascivious grin appears "fine."

Talesin smiles, tilting his head to the side slightly as he straps his sword into place, book held firmly in one arm. Everyone else gets nifty weapons. He grins at Jameson, head tilting to the side, slightly. Finally. Let someone else be the Empathic type. "And if I lose this book, I can't do any magic spells, right? They're all linked to the book...?" he glances to Risa, "You could have worn a chain mail bikini..."

Lao nods to Talesin. "Yep. The wizard needs his book to study his spells. No book; no spells."

Cristobal winces at what Talesin says. That sounds /painful/.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Ouch"

. o O Lao thinks "Yep. Risa's looking -just- fine."

. o O Talesin feels a general sense of amusement, mingled with a /hint/ of fear. It sounded fun...

Solok calls for the computer to create his various bits and pieces of weaponry. Once that's done, he asks Lao, "And what are the limitations of my illusions? I don't really think I understand how they work."

. o O Jameson warms at Talesin's suggestion of Risa wearing a chainmail bikini. Horndog, horndog.

Lao turns to Solok. "The program will take what you describe and interpret it. The more detail you give, the better the illusion. Complicated illusions will fool the holographic people and creatures we encounter. When you conjure an illusion, it'll appear an intangible image -- a true hologram, really."

. o O Talesin thinks "Maybe I should have the computer create a bucket of ice water, again..."

. o O Medes feels Chainmail bikini. Uhm, /OW/? Wouldn't that... chafe? And pull hairs? How incredibly impractical.

. o O Medes thinks "Chainmail bikini. Uhm, /OW/? Wouldn't that... chafe? And pull hairs? How incredibly impractical."

Lao looks around. "Okay? Any other questions?"

"No. No I couldn't have, Keth," Risa says with a smirk, reaching out to elbow Talesin in the side. She then turns to Lao and says politely, "Thank you." A glance to Keth. "See? -He- says it looks fine, so shush." That said, she looks again to Lao, shaking her head. "No questions here."

Cristobal just sort of waits for things to happen. He's got his costume ready. He says, "Should we have any other equipment besides our weapons or armor?"

. o O Risa feels highly amused by Lao. Men.

Lao shakes his head. "The program should dump some gold in your purses, pockets, or wherever else it can drop them. That's it, though."

Medes winces visibly, and shakes her head slightly. "Mister Risa, you look perfectly suited to your part as I understand it." Thankfully, /she/ got to wear a part that calls for pseudobutch armor. Hoo-rah.

. o O Medes thinks "Risa's cleavage, then, I guess. Oif."

Talesin laughs, "You do look fine. I'll turn you into a proper lady, yet. Or perhaps a Betazoid lady. Sell you to someone for high profit, keep the pretty for myself." he reaches behind Risa to flick one of Jameson's ears playfully before looking innocent. "I can't think of anything else..."

Cristobal aka the tank nods at Lao and says, "Right-o then. Uh. Forsooth." A pause, "I should probably skip the dialect."

Jameson flinches at having his ear flicked. "Ow! And no selling the Jalyn." He nods with Cristobal, "Yeah, maybe we should skip any dialect stuff. I mean, I have no idea what to do, or how to do it for that matter. But otherwise, I'm ready to go."

"I am certain Mister Lao's program will explain everything," Medes notes, idly adjusting the bracers on her forearms and tugging on her chestplate. She watches the interaction between Risa, Jameson and Talesin and shakes her head a little.

"Thank you, sir," Risa replies brightly to Medes, then glances sidelong to Talesin with a simple smirk. No comment. "I was sort of looking forward to the dialect stuff, actually," she then says thoughtfully. "If I understand correctly, there was, erm, a heavy usage of Shakespearean dialect? I'm all set to go with that. Maybe not, erm, correctly, but I'd have fun with it either way."

Talesin shrugs, "But we'd make such a nice profit..." a grin, and Risa gets a one armed hug, "I couldn't speak Elvish any more than I could speak Klingon. I wouldn't even know what accent to do, so..."

Lao says, "Go with whatever dialect you like. The program will adapt to our usage of dialect and language. If you wanted Klingon to be Elvish, start speaking it. If someone refers to it as Elvish, the program will remember. If you start talking about your character's childhood friends, don't be surprised if they show up. It's a very interactive program."

Solok just stands off to one side for the moment, trying to get his outfit sorted out. "I think there's a limit to the ridiculousness we can get to. Right now, we're well within that. If we all start using thee and forsootheth, we'll evaporate that really fast."

Lao claps his hands. "Anyhow, let's get started." He orders the computer to load the program.

Lao loads a new program into the holodeck.

Cristobal shrugs and suggests to Risa, "Our characters are probably from divergent backgrounds. Everyone can just speak how they wish to." He says, "I know the Klingon accent, but not the Elvish, it's..." whoops, the mov^H^H^Hprogram's starting. Shhh.

"But surely there's a standard language, Keth. Like... Adventurers Standard. Something we all understand. And speak with a heavy Shakespearean bent. That's my understanding, anyway." Risa then smiles at Lao's explanation of the language, nudging Talesin. See? And then, she shushes, with a grin directed to Cristobal. Shush shush.

Lao walks over to the door, and opens it. He turns back to the group, and says, "Find a seat, everybody!" The program is still frozen. As the players move into position, Lao steps outside, closing the door. His voice can be heard saying, "Computer, continue program!" The tavern is suddenly filled with laughter. It's late afternoon, and the room is warmed by the fire. To look out the open, wooden-shuttered windows, it appears to be fall outside. All sorts of...beings...populate the place, of the likes our heroes have likely never seen before. Humans, mostly, big and dirty and bluff men, and serving wenches in lowcut shirts. A few dwarves sit at a table, quaffing ale and speaking in their own guttural language (which sounds suspiciously like Ferengi - to the point that Solok is catching a few words). A pair of elves sit at the bar, speaking their fluent and musical-sounding language (odd -- sounds like Betazoid). A surly half-orc sits in the corner, alone, grumbling to himself in his native tongue, a coarse and guttural language that sounds quite a bit like Klingon.

Cristobal blinks at the orc. He could swear he just recognized something Churas has said to him. He shrugs and makes his way to an empty table. His rich clothes are a bit out of place in the Battered Gryphon, but his stern expression discourages any from staring too closely.

Medes finds herself a stereotypically shadowy spot to sit -- though /not/ next to the surly Klingonesque half-orc, thank you -- and slides into a chair by herself. Oof. Okay, sitting down in armor is kinda weird.

. o O Medes thinks "I am so going to stink at this."

Solok wanders in, immediately taking a moment to look around. Mostly focussing on where the good hiding spots are. After a moment, he opts for an empty table near a wall with a window, seating himself with his back to the wall.

Jameson finds a seat near the fire, and watches the room around him, and grins at some of the dialects floating around. He tries to look much more serious then, settling into character. He arranges his robes around him and tries to look scholarly and wizardly. He too avoids sitting near the half-orc.

. o O Jameson thinks "Oh wow. I hope I didn't pick a stupid place to sit. Everyone else is sitting in shadowy places."

Talesin looks confused for a moment before gesturing for Risa and Jameson to lead the way. Look, it's the group's first clique! The elves get a suspicious glance, but that's all the notice they recieve as Keth picks through the room, a mask of serenity dropping over his features as he finds himself a seat, arranging himself with a slight fuss over the cloak.

Risa flutters into the room more than she walks. She's mincing. It's amusing, in a way. She settles down near Talesin and Jameson, eyes slowly scanning over the room. She's quiet, for a change.

The door to the tavern opens, and in walks Lao. He wears a serene expression as he looks around the bar. He's getting a few looks, too. A sorcerer-monk of Chiao Mai? Here? How odd. He walks over to the bar, and speaks quietly with the bartender. Antrobal nods in the direction of each of the players in turn. Lao drops a small silken bag on the table, and it jingles. He walks over to the table where Cristobal sits, and says, "Ah. The warrior Cristobal. I'm glad you received my summons. And the others are here, as well." He looks at each player in turn, waving them over.

. o O Talesin thinks "Just remember your sister. She was a haughty enough person to be an elf..."

Cristobal stands and faces Lao. He places his right fist in his left palm and bows at the waist, saying, "As you know, my father and I have much respect for the monks of Chiao Mai. Please, sit," he says, retaking his seat.

Lao nods to Cristobal, and says, "You honor me." He takes a chair, but keeps a firm hold on his staff.

Medes /stares/ at Risa for a moment before shaking her head slightly and getting up, wending her way through the tavern's patrons. Her helmet's been removed, revealing /somewhat/ pointy ears, not so much as Talesin's. She drops herself into a chair at the table without much, well, subtlety, or really anything said at all.

. o O Medes thinks "She's MINCING. Engineers don't MINCE!"

Talesin stands gracefully as he's waved over, expression still slightly haughty as he moves toward the others, nodding politely to Lao and the others before sitting again. What Medes lacks in grace, Keth more than makes up for, and, again, there's a slight fuss as he tries to adjust his cloak just so. Vanity, thy name is Keth.

Jameson notes the wave over from the sorcerer-monk and raises a brow. He turns to look between Talesin and Risa, "I believe that is the man we were supposed to meet. His order has a long past of dealing with the Order of Saelar. He should be trustworthy enough." He stands up from the table and his robes seem to fall around him as he collects his staff and begins to move his way toward the table. He finds a seat, and like Keth arranges his robes. Apparantly vanity's middle name is Marcus.

Va'tol steps into holodeck 2 from the Dream Factory.

Va'tol has arrived.

. o O Jameson thinks "I hope I didn't just do something stupid by assuming that his order and mine are tied. Oh well, we'll see."

Va'tol steps out of the holodeck.

Va'tol has left.

Genesis locks the door to Out.

Risa glances aside to Medes for a few moments before finally looking to Jameson, nodding her head and rising from her seat. She adjusts her armor slightly, holds her pretty little mace out at the side, and minces after him. She's trying this priestess thing. Badly.

Solok slides off of his chair, weaving through the tavern towards the table where the group is gathering, and doing his very best to avoid being stepped on by other taverngoers. He stops up at the table and leans against the table with his elbows propped up onto it.

Lao nods to them all as they join him. "I greet you all. I am glad you have answered my summons. Please, join us. Drink your fill. We have much to discuss."

A serving girl approaches the table. "What will ye be drinkin', good people?" she asks. She leans over far enough that she makes Risa's cleavage look positively chaste.

Cristobal nods lightly. When the server approaches their table, he orders, "A bottle of the good red wine in the back. Not that swill Androbal pretends is his best." He reaches under his robe and pulls out a gold coin out from somewhere, though he does not make any move yet to hand the coin over.

Talesin glances up at the serving girl, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Put them away, dear child." a slight shrug, "I will have whatever he's having." Well, he's doing the Betazoid accent pretty convincingly, at least. What little of it there is.

Jameson blinks a little at the holo-wench's cleavage, then darts a look to Risa and tries to look disinterested. "I'll have a mug of your finest." Finest what? Oh well, we'll see when she gets back. He turns to Lao and offers him a nod. "I must say I was intrigued to receive the summons. And I'm not the only one who found it interesting." He smiles then, "Though I'm sure we'll get to business soon enough."

Lao holds up a hand to the group. "You need not pay for the drinks this evening, my friends."

. o O Medes thinks "Wow, Mister Lao, model that after anyone you know? /Prophets./"

Medes glances aside at the serving wench, then just shakes her head slightly. "Stout," she notes in a somewhat flat tone. Well. Maybe she's not acting, but at least this part she can get right. Her eyes flicker quietly from one party to the next.

Cristobal shrugs and the coin disappears back under his robe where it came from.

Risa's cleavage already looks rather chaste, thanks to thoughtfully applied armor beneath her 'priestess' outfit. Apparently she's thought to make a pocket along the seamline, because she also pulls out a gold coin, studying it rather than looking like she's getting ready to pay. When she looks up to note Jameson's interest in the wench, she can only smirk. "Thou... wilt... bring me a beer. Er. Ale. Stout? Please."

. o O Jameson thinks "Boo-bies!"

Solok just lifts his hand to the serving girl, and shakes his head. "Nothing here." He then reconsiders, and says, "Actually... I'll have whatever is most expensive. In a pint mug." And then he turns his attention back to Lao.

The serving wench nods the group, mutters a poorly-pronounced gutter curse in Elvish (man, that sounds a -lot- like Betazoid), and walks off to get the order. Lao turns to the group, and nods. "I have called you here to hire you. There is something I need...reacquired." He lets that drop, watching the group mildly.

Cristobal leans back in his chair and listens.

Jameson settles in after the wench leaves, his mind properly re-focused on the task at hand. He raises a brow, his lips quirked a bit. "What sort of item is it that you need re-acquired?" He offers a touch of a grin, "Perhaps you need to seek a band of merchants for such an activity?"

. o O Jameson is more than a touch nervous, a little lost, perhaps feeling more than a bit of stage fright.

Talesin raises an eyebrow, head tilted to the side slightly in curiosity. One lip quirks up slightly. "And you asked for us?" the serving wench actually gets a smile, as she leaves, and then the Elf is reaching over to lay a hand on Jameson's arm for a moment. "Do not rush him. He will tell his story in his own time."

Risa leans back in her seat, crossing her arms casually and looking more like Mr. Risa than Ms. Priestess. Her eyes shift over to Jameson and Talesin briefly, then refocus on Lao. She's gone quiet again, watchful.

Medes eyes each member of the party in turn, leaning forward in her chair and propping her elbows on the table as she turns her attention back to Lao, waiting. Her fingers tap idly on the table's surface as she waits.

Solok remains leaned onto the table, and keeps his attention steadily on Lao, for the moment ignoring the others. Right now, he's watching that face in a manner a painter might study a model destined for the canvas.

Lao shakes his head slowly at Jameson's. "Merchants would not aid me, here. The item is...a book. A very important book." He leans forward. "It was stolen by the Tu'kath tribe of orcs. A vicious, vile lot, blue-skinned demons, an offshoot of normal orcs created by the fell lich, Armanius." He seems to not even want to say the name, looking around nervously as he does. No doubt the lich has spies everywhere. The serving girl returns with the drinks ordered. Solok gets something that smells quite wonderfully inebriating.

Cristobal nods, sips his wine and says, "I will aid you in retrieving your book Honored Lao, but talk not to me of 'hiring'. I require no payment from you. My father has not forgotten what has happened, and neither have I."

Talesin nods absently, accepting his drink, not touching it, yet, merely holding it, looking into its surface thoughtfully. "And you want us to find this... book again, for you." one eyebrow rises, and he looks to Lao calmly. "Tell me more of these orcs." a bit of a glance is given toward the half-orc, not quite suspicious, perhaps a bit warning.

Medes rubs a hand across her chin, raising her eyebrows and -- shockingly -- remaining silent. Maybe she's figuring that she can't possibly screw this up if she doesn't actually /say/ anything. She nods to the serving girl, however, a bit of a reflex, and picks up her stout, sipping at it. Her gaze attaches itself briefly to Cristobal, to Talesin and then moves back to Lao. Waiting.

Jameson says, "Analyze Half-Orc"

A computer voice says, very quietly and near Jameson's ear, "The half-orc is belligerent, feels isolated, and just wants to get drunk and pass out."

Solok dips a fingertip into his drink, and then tastes it that way, before giving the drink a rather ginger sip. He thumbs over towards Cristobal, noting, "He speaks for himself, of course. I'm quite available for hire."

Cristobal looks at Jameson curiously. He of course left his tricorder in his quarters, but it's not really in-cha...oh, it's a spell thingy. Right. Cristobal sips more wine.

Jameson watches Lao and nods accepting his drink before his gaze too wanders to the half-orc. He watches the creature for only a few brief seconds before he turns his gaze downward toward his drink. He takes a nice sized gulp of his drink then turns to Lao again, "What sort of reward are you prepared to offer for the return of this book?"

Risa flickers her eyes back to Jameson at his request, but returns her gaze to Lao after that. Leaning back and resting her elbow on the table, she takes a drink of her beer-ale-stout testingly, smacking lightly to apparently note it's okay by her.

Lao nods to Cristobal, inclining his head respectfully. "We merely did what was required. And, of course, you prove that your father was a wise friend to obtain." He looks to the others. "1000 gold pieces each," he says, naming a princely sum. Or, well, what one might assume was a princely sum. "The orcs...they are a fearsome band. Vicious. Monstrous combatants. They are led by a renowned battle chieftain, a monster whom, it is said, slew his own young, lest they challenge his rule." He lets his gaze drift to the wizards. "It is said that they are resistant to the magical arts. And..." A long sigh. "I believe they may already be set out to stop us."

. o O Jameson thinks "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to die quickly?"

Cristobal arches a brow at the size of the reward. He sips his wine and nods.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to turn down his reward..."

. o O Lao thinks "Wow. This is going -great-! I wonder when the orcs will show up?"

Talesin's gaze moves from the half-orc to the other elves, then back to Lao again, "They might be resistant to the magic, but there are always other ways to stop them from getting to us." Us, is it? "I will help you." his gaze moves to catch everyone else's for a moment each. "If they are already out to stop us, then perhaps we should not linger long."

"I can hea--!" Risa starts to say in this helpfully chipper voice, then clears her throat and says slowly, "Er. I art... well-versed in the healing arts. I can thus aid the party in the endeavor to destroy the enemy. For I hath the healing power." Yes, she's shutting up now.

Medes raises her eyebrows, shifting her gaze. This is getting a little repetitive, so, to Talesin, she nods. Best take another good-sized swallow of stout, then. She can't help turning her head slightly to blink at Risa.

Jameson nods and after another drink from his mug says, "I will also accept this opportunity." He adds, "There is probably some wisdom in what he says. I would imagine that any lead we can manage to acquire in the journey would be beneficial to us."

Cristobal suggests, "I'll bet they aren't resistant to cold steel." He too turns his head to look oddly at Risa.

Solok gives his coin purse a brief shake, listening to the rattle. His brow furrows as he performs mental mathematical acrobatics, and then he just gives a quick nod as he tucks his coin purse away. "I'm in. So long as I'm not the only one, of course."

. o O Medes thinks "Why did I do this? I can't act!"

. o O Jameson thinks "Damn Jalyn, I love you. But cut the cheesy thou, thee, and art stuff."

Talesin almost cracks a smile at Risa's stumbling. But he doesn't. It struggles at the corners of his mouth for a moment, before he looks to Solok, "You are not alone."

Lao nods to them all. "It seems we are agreed, then." He stands, with a flourish. Yes, somebody's played this game way too many times. "I have rented a small villa, here in the city. We may proceed there, and talk more. I have accomodations for all, and plenty to eat and drink." He looks down at the group, gripping his staff. "We leave in the morning."

. o O Talesin thinks "I might just smack the poor dear. She's trying, at least. And it's kind of cute. In the way that a cat bringing a dead mouse is cute..."

Jameson follows Lao's lead and stands. He lets his robes fall into place and takes his own staff. He waits for the other party members to ready themselves for departure.

Cristobal nods to Lao and recorks the bottle of wine. He stands.

Talesin nods, standing easily, his own drink untouched, though it's lifted when he stands. A momentary fuss with the cloak, again, and he smiles slightly, actually going over to the half-orc's table and setting the cup down before him unobtrusively, before all but gliding back to stand near Jameson and Risa.

. o O Jameson thinks "Oh great, Keth. Here comes my death scene."

Medes looks down into her stout for a long moment and then downs the rest of it. Can't let good beer go to waste, after all. Replacing her helmet on her head, she nods satisfiedly to herself, tugs on her stiff leather armor a bit, and paces around the table to follow after Lao.

"I wilt see thou in the morning, then," Risa continues her Shakespeare-speak obliviously, standing and adjusting her outfit again. "We wilt need much sleep before undertaking this... er. Undertaking." And she's so cheerful about her horribly fake acting, too. She takes a last drink of her beer-ale-stout, then moves to stand near Jameson and Talesin.

The half-orc looks up at Talesin, and snarls something that sounds oddly like, "p'taQ've!" before smashing the proffered drink off the table. Aside from that, he doesn't seem much interested in, say, chewing off the elf's head and spitting it out or anything. Antrobal yells from the bar, "Dammit, Torok! You cleanin' that up?" The half-orc sneers at the human, and yells back, "Get me a rag! At least you'll have something to serve the dandelion-chewing elves, from the drippings!"

Lao nods to the group, wincing as Talesin approaches the surly half-orc, and says to Risa, "No, I intend for you to come with us, healer. We need to talk and plan this night." And with that, he turns and heads for the door.

Jameson winces as the half-orc bashes the drink from the table. He raises his hood to obscure his face and follows after Lao, staff in hand.

Talesin lets out a little 'hmph' noise, raising his head slightly higher. Ahh. Nose in the air. He follows after the rest, book held firmly in one hand, another moment of fussing over his cloak...

The elves at the bar look over at the half-orc disdainfully, but ignore his outburst. Hrmph.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Talesin and the half-orc. His hand slides under his robe, just in case.

Risa glances to Talesin, then the orc, and then finally returns her eyes to Lao. She inclines her head as regally as she can to him, and succeeds in looking at least slightly more in character. It helps that she doesn't speak.

Medes is just a half-elf. She only chews dandelions on even-numbered days. She just sort of blinks at the half-orc's antics and shakes her head a little bit before following the group.

Solok takes another quick sip of his drink, but then leaves the rest to follow along as people begin filing out. He sticks closely behind Cristobal, mostly to use him as a prow to clear the crowds. It's tough being tiny.

Lao steps out of the inn into the refreshing air of the evening. Night is just falling in Talandra. From the hill you're on, you can see the port down the south, with tall-masted sailing ships docked. The buildings that sit on the cobble-stoned streets are tall and wooden, looking like something from medieval Earth. A castle stands atop a mountain to the east, large and forbidding, and the occasional towers rises from the streets. This is a -big- city, as far as a medieval town goes.

Lao points down the emptying streets, "This way. We should hurry. Who knows what awaits us in the dark?" And he strides off down.

Cristobal follows after Lao and says, "I'm unconcerned. Most of the rats in /these/ streets know to avoid Nathan Cristobal." Ok, he's getting into the part just a bit here.

Talesin allows Lao to lead the way, one eyebrow raised, "I will never understand the need to hurry." he murmurs, but does as asked, picking up his pace slightly.

Jameson follows along behind Lao and Cristobal after taking a moment to take in the lay of the city around the tavern. His strides are long, and makes an effort to move quickly and quietly.

Risa gives up the mincing for one simple and obvious reason: it's really hard to keep up! So, thankfully for those trying to stay in character, she follows after the others as quickly as she can, the multicolored strings on her mace flying behind her.

Solok follows along, trying to get himself nestled somewhere into the middle of the group, in true cowardly fashion. He hustles to keep up on his shorter legs, griping quietly under his breath.

Lights are flickering on in some of the houses as the party makes it's way down the street. The lights flicker as if they're flames from candles. Every once in a while, a human can be seen shuttering their windows against the chill of the night. A brisk wind blows from the ocean up the streets, lending a strong evening chill...and fog begins to roll up the hills from the ocean. By the time the group has walked for ten minutes, the boats can no longer be seen, and the castle is shrouded in frog.

Lao leads them on a merry chase, turning this way and that. Finally, he says over his shoulder, "Two more streets, and we'll be there."

Jameson continues along after Lao and Cristobal. He watches the area around them as they go, any facial expressions obscured by the hook of his robes.

Solok continues following along, still staying to the middle of the group as best he can.

Risa simply continues to rush after Lao, holding the edges of her outfit to keep her from tripping like an even bigger dork.

Medes drops into the back of the group and whispers, Medes whispers to herself, "Stealthy!" Hey. If she's the sneaky one, she'll watch their backs. Lao /did/ say the orcs might have already been dispatched. She also begins to move stealthily. All right, so she moves kinda like people 'sneak' in cartoons, but she's trying, here.

Shadows seem to reach out and enfold Medes as she slips into ultra-sooper-sneaky mode; the program responding to her command, evidenty. And so, the group makes it ways through the increasingly dark streets of Talandra, passing shadowed alleyways and closed shops, when...

Caeli has arrived.

Hiswaiting the intrepid adventurers in said alleyway are seven figures, their skin a bright cerulean, their heads either bald or clean-shaven save for black ponytails protruding from the bases of their skulls. Down the center of their faces runs a small cartilaginous ridge, and their ears are pierced at random intervals with small gold rings. Worn is a haphazard collection of rugged, cured leather armor, and they brandish various weapons, from small hafted axes to long swords to maces and flails, the lot of them snarling viciously at the assemblage.

As if that predicament were not bad enough, five more step in behind the party, similarly armed and armored, before one orc, taller than all the rest and clad in a black curiass adorned with silver, steps to the forefront with a low rumbling snarl. "Lao!" he barks, "It seems Armanius was right. You are *exactly* where he predicted you'd be." He chuckles slightly, a foul grin crossing his lips, before raising the three-balled flail in his right hand and drawing a short sword in his left. "And you've brought me some rags to clean my blades on, as well. Shame they're wrapped around these useless bags of flesh." He adresses the heroes, now, with a sneer. "I pity you for casting your lot in with this one! He will be your death!" The last word in his tirade is a guttural, terrifying one, and at its utterance the dozen other orcs echo it in a piercing cry as they charge toward the heroes, weapons drawn. At the forefront of the charge is the Champion, his weapons headed squarely for the wizard to whom he spoke.

Lao spins on his heel as the voice comes from the darkness. "Damnation!" he cries. "It's the orc chieftain, Caeli! Leader of the Tu'kath! An ambush...defend yourselves!" He steps back, says, "Magic spell," quietly and raises his staff high. The jade runes carved on it begin the glow brightly, as he starts muttering something in a low voice.

Cristobal stifles a giggle. They're all Bolians. Really, one can't deny the amusement factor of this. He calmly reaches behind him with his right hand and draws the curved sword from his scabbard. With his left, he undoes the two fastenings of his robe, tossing it aside to reveal the chainmail armor beneath. He steps forward, prepared to meet the charge.

Solok calls out "Illusion creation!", and then pauses briefly. Snapping his fingers, he says, "Guardsmen. A patrol of five, coming along the opposite street and turning down the alleyway. Each wearing chainmail, and armed with... swords, or some other kind of pointy thing."

Out of an opposite street, march a troop of guardsmen. All Ferengi. All dressed in chainmail. All carrying swords. They turn down an alleyway. The orcs haven't noticed them yet.

Medes continues her sneakiness, backing up against a wall and looking for shadows in which to neatly ensconce herself. She slowly draws her shortsword so as to attract as little attention as possible and be as sneaky as she can possibly be.

Jameson says in a normal tone "Mind Magic!" Then he speaks louder as he raises his staff, his voice booming out in a language that sounds remarkably like Centauran, "Powers of the firmament! I call upon thee! Make the one I choose to follow me!" He then points his staff levelly at one of the Orcs closest to the Chieftain. "I call upon the power of the Ether! To make you turn to betray your leader!"

One of the orcs suddenly roars in fury, and turns to Caeli, hissing a challenge, an ugly axe held in one hand.

. o O Jameson thinks "God I sound like a dork."

. o O Lao thinks "Wow! That was great!"

Those evil cannibalistic bastards. Risa's brow arches rather highly as the er, terrifying Bolians charge, then rushes up closer to Lao, brandishing her pretty mace. She glances back with a brief grin as Jameson says 'thee'. Yay for Shakespearean talk! Turning back to face the orcs, she looks ready to fight, one hand poised near Lao's back for no clear reason.

. o O Caeli nods appreciatively in his own mind. Not bad, Jalyn. Not bad at all.

Talesin looks quite calm, raising his free hand in an easy gesture, his head tilting to the side slightly, "Fire magic." his voice is soft as he speaks, his other hand clutching the book tightly, before he gestures toward one of the closer orcs, "Elementals of fire, creatures of ever changing light, I call you now to.." he stops, then, blushing slightly, "Smite."

A wash of fire erupts from Talesin's hand, burning through the air in an arc, and engulfs one of the orcs, who lets out an ungodly screech, and falls to the ground, rolling and crying out. The smell of burning Bolia--er, orc fills the air.

. o O Talesin thinks "Smite? Gods, Keth! You could have come up with better than that! Your little /cousin/ could have!"

. o O Risa thinks "I /knew/ this'd be more fun if everybody started talking like that."

Caeli snarls, swinging his sword sideways to sink into the throat of the Boliorc who had the gall to turn on him. With a sickening gurgle, the traitor collapses to the floor, and just as soon as he lifts the axe into his sword hand, Caeli is roaring back into action, the corpse of the creature sprawled on the ground in a puddle of blue blood. The three balls-on-chains of the flail arc downwards towards Lao as Caeli bellows another war-cry.

Medes waits until Caeli passes her spot and then attempts to move out behind him. Hey. He's going after their leader, after all. He /requires/ a short-sword in the back.

. o O Medes thinks "Stabby stabby."

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

Some orcs rush past their leader. One swings a massive axe at Cristobal. Two converge on Talesin, the fire mage. Of the five behind, they advance on Lao, two rushing in to swing their short swords at him. One tries to tackle Risa, drooling, "Human female! Hheheheheh!" as he does. Another pair go for Jameson, one holding back, while the other stabs at him with a longsword. It's mayhem! Solok, however, gets pretty much ignored.

Lao finishes a muttering, and his staff releases something that looks like a dragon made out of lightning. It writhes in the air, descending on one of the attacking orcs coming for him, and simply electrocutes it.

<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill vs Caeli's Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill and Succeeds!

An axe? How cute. How quaint. How much slower to you think a massive axe is going to be than Cristobal's blade? Let's find out. Cristobal brings his sword around in a quick slashing motion, aimed at the orc's throat.

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Cristobal's Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Talesin's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Talesin's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Lao's Dodge skill and Dramatically Fails!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Jameson's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Jameson's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Unarmed Combat skill vs Risa's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Cristobal's blade crosses with the handle of the orc's axe, stopping the mighty blade in it's tracks. He responds by bringing his blade back and quickly slashing at the orc's throat.

<PROVE> Solok has the merit of Telepathic Resistance at 4.

Medes sneaky sneaky. She slides right up behind Caeli and buries her holosword in his back, a rather wolfy grin on her face as she does so. Next move? Remove sword and retreat, quickly. Attack, fade back.

. o O Talesin feels amusement, faint worry and a touch of fear, coupled with excitement. In short, he's having fun.

. o O Medes feels kinda bad about stabbing Caeli in the back.

. o O Jameson feels like a super dork.

. o O Risa feels nervous, and extremely careful.

One of the orcs trying to attack Lao trips and lands on his own head, smashing it into the ground. He appears to have knocked himself out. Stupid orc.

Jameson takes a shot to the left arm, and then another shot to his right thigh. He reels for just a moment before catching himself with his staff. He looks to the Orcs that attacked him, and once he gets balanced, he levels his staff at them. "Mind Magic." Then in his 'Magic' language begins to bellow angrily, "With all the power that I possess, I declare you're both in such a mess! You'll find yourself sorely confused! And your battle anger will come unglued! To your fellow Orcs you'll turn, as the battle rage within you burns!"

Risa's eyes widen as the Boliorc comes at her, swinging her mace nervously at him. It should be obvious to anyone watching that she wasn't even trying; the obvious intent was to push the Boliorc back, and keep from injuring him for whatever odd reason. Of course, her kindness is repaid by a blow to the head that she can't exactly evade, and while she doesn't look /too/ terribly hurt, she does fall to the ground, scowling and actually trying to retreat away from the Boliorc rather than fighting it. Her general destination seems to be Jameson.

Talesin lets out a squeal like a little girl, completely out of character, swirling between the two blades, book clutched close. However, the squeal is more than made up for when the 'elf' cries, "You cut my cloak!" before drawing his hand free, pointing at both Orcs. "Do you know how much matching thread costs?" a frown, "Fire Magic." it's soft, again, in his own 'magic' tongue "I call on the beings of fire, beings from afar, to make my enemies wither and char!"

The orcs in front of Jameson stop, and shake their heads like large, confused dogs. One of them turns back to Caeli, and charges him, screaming, "You killed Morbak!" in Orcish...sounding like country Klingon. Another turns and holographically decapitates Solok with a single swing. The marching illusionary guardsmen dissipate just before reaching the back of the orcish mass, and the computer voice sweetly says, "Solok has died."

And then Talesin's magic takes effect, and a muscular man made of fire appears over the heads of the orcs, rippling the air with heat, and laughing down at them.

Solok goes home.

Solok has left.

The orc on Risa is clambering up her, grinning and gibbering insanely. "Prettyprettypretty!" he cackles, trying to get a firm grasp on her.

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill vs Cristobal's Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill and Fails!

Yay for hardened leather armor. The stab loses a good deal of momentum, but not before burying itself an inch into Caeli's back. Owww. "Bashnak, you mongrel idiot!" Zip roars at the orc clambering on top of Risa, "Kill them, don't play with them!" He is supposed to be the fearsome orc leader, and so he angrily steps towards Lao, giving the wizard a wink and a grin before swinging the flail in a swift arc towards the human's side, even as his undertunic becomes wet with falsified blood.

<CONTEST> Caeli (claiming advantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Lao's Primitive Weaponry skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Cristobal contests his Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill vs Genesis's Primitive Weaponry skill (given disadvantage) and Succeeds!

Cristobal's blow cleanly decapitates the axe-wielding orc, just as the fire djinn descends on the one on top of Risa, who proceeds to burn and shrivel. Unfortunately, Risa is also getting some holographic ouchies from that.

And Caeli steps into Lao, burying his sword into the wizard's side. Lao gasps, "No!" and falls to the ground. Holographic blood pours from a deep wound in his side.

Cristobal's sword passes right through the orc's throat. The orc head rolls into an alley to become some urchin's new soccer ball. Cristobal whistles to himself.

Medes's blow doesn't seem to have done much, but hey, Caeli's still facing away from her. She looks as if she might go for a second backstab, but Caeli's words to one of the orcs has her sucking in a breath with a long hiss. It keeps her from screaming, which, you know, tends to ruin one's chances for being comparatively sneaky. She moves away from the leader and toward Risa, drawing her sword up again and biting her lower lip as she attempts to stab just the orc, and not Risa. Engineer Girls, you know, always stick together. Even in holonovels. 'Course, this means she leaves Lao open to getting stabbed. ... Whoops.

<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Primitive Weaponry skill vs Genesis's Primitive Weaponry skill (given disadvantage) and Succeeds!

Medes stabs right through the fire djinn and into the orc, stabbing it cleanly through the chest. Her sword heats up, almost too hot to hold, even as the djinn whooshes off the dead orc, looking for another foe.

Jameson gets a spray of holo-blood from the decapitation of Solok. He turns his head, then looks toward the Orcs once more. This time much more quietly than the first two spells, he begins to plant more insidious ideas. He says quietly, "Mind Magic." Then he points his staff at the Orc who levelled Solok and whispers, "You know at the end of the fight, no matter how you've spent your might, that your leader will take all the gold to keep, and if you disagree, he'll send you forever to sleep." Then it's to another Orc, "Your life now is at such a loss. You have nothing that's worth the cost, of your own life's blood you spill. The leader he treats you as swill. But if you turn against him you'll be in pain. Better to leave now before he notices you again."

The only pair of healthy orcs left suddenly turn on Caeli, cursing in gutter Kling--orcish. They rush to attack him. One swings a wicked axe, and the other hacks at Caeli with his longsword.

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Caeli's Primitive Weaponry skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Genesis (claiming disadvantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry skill vs Caeli's Primitive Weaponry skill and Succeeds!

Risa's somewhat helpless against the SlobberBoliorc, since she seems bound and determined /not/ to smash his head in with her ready mace. She, in fact, makes no attempt to hit him at all, and instead only tries to push herself free. She sends Medes a grateful smile when she notices her past the sneakiness, trying to squirm out from under the 'gram. She murmurs to Medes genuinely to Medes, "Thanks," before wincing at all the dead-orc-ness.

Caeli raises his sword high in the air in an attempt to countermand Jameson's trances. "Hold fast! Their leader is fallen! The rest shall follow! *HOLD FAST*, I say! What we do in life echoes in eternity!" As it becomes apparent that his troops are not listening, he delivers a swift kick to Lao's ribs and backs away, fending off their strikes with his own dual blades until the twofold assault is too much. The weapons each strike home, leaving two wicked gashes on his forearms, and he snarls in pain, the back injury flaring up under the strain. "You're lost, now!" he bellows, even as he drops his blades and turns to flee. "Without him, you're nothing! NOTHING!" And off into the night he vanishes, to terrorize another day.

. o O Medes feels relieved, and proud.

Talesin is splattered, as well. Eww, holographic... Solok blood. Eww. Nasty. He sighs, leaning against an alley wall, content to let the fire being do as it will, for the moment, "Who is hurt?"

. o O Jameson practically radiates pride and a sense of victory.

The orcs, either intent on killing Caeli, or following his lead, or just plain confused, run after him down the alleyway, grunting and screeching. The fire djinn flies up above the characters, utters a booming laugh, and bursts into fireworks. Lao lays on the ground, wheezing...

Caeli has left.

. o O Jameson thinks "Heh. I didn't die."

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at the fleeing Caeli. He's going to have to leave a bucket of sheep's blood in his quarters or something. He glances at Lao, turns to Risa and says, "Priestess, heal him!"

Jameson leans his weight against his staff, but he too poins to Lao, "He needs help urgently! If he doesn't receive it soon..." He just trails off there.

"Oh, Prophets, Pete." Medes wipes the holographic blood off of her sword on the inside of her arm, where a little cloth is exposed on the inside of the bracers. She doesn't rush over to him or anything, just winces and glances at Risa. After a moment, she whispers, "Stealthy!" and looks for someplace to climb up and keep lookout while Risa works.

A soft computer voice interjects, "Jameson, Talesin, and Risa sense strong incoming magic."

Talesin frowns, "Something's coming. We've got to get him moved, and fast." dark eyes move to Risa, landing steadily on her, "Heal him, and quickly..." and he actually draws the sword at his side. Seems it's not entirely ornamental. Lets just hope he doesn't cut something important off.

Jameson begins to look about curiously. It's kind of the way you see someone watching for an incoming storm, only in the dark, there's no way he's looking for storm clouds. He readies his staff, no longer using it to lean against. He nods to Talesin, "I can't tell whether it's friendly, or an attack. But yes, /something/ is coming. Something powerful."

Risa quirks a grin at Medes before she rushes over to Lao's side, touching him and saying, "Heal .. Sir... Lao!" She waves the pretty mace and murmurs cautiously, "Spirits of the earth and land, thou'rt to heal this man, by my hand! I order you, and.. you I command!" She manages a tremulous smile, then waves the mace about randomly, thankfully not thwacking Lao again in the process.

The computer says, "Lao is beyond help."

. o O Medes thinks "Don't need a computer to tell us that, sheesh."

Cristobal mumbles, "Could've told you that."

Lao sighs as Risa's balming touch soothes his mock agony. "You must," he says, reaching into the folds of his robe, "take this," and he pulls out a tube of ebony, with jade caps on either side. "A map! To the lair of the...lich!"

And then the air in front of them ripples...and a giant face appears, floating translucently in the air. It laughs, a hideous, gurgling chuckle. "You fools! You dare to challenge the might of Armanius! I, who entered unlife centuries before you fools were born!" Moldy eyes look down from a skeletal face, a face from which ragged strips of flesh yet hang, greyish-green. "The monk is finally dead. And you've no hope without him! None at all! Bwaaahahahaha!" And the face fades out.

. o O Medes thinks "Well. That was a little... dramatic."

. o O Jameson thinks "Damn, that thing was ugly."

Talesin sighs softly, "Lets leave town. We'll take him into a deserted area and arrange a funeral for him." The rippling of the air makes the Elf draw back in actual surprise, dark eyes wide. Boy, this program is easy to get lost in.

Jameson kind of reels back at the image, then looks to Risa after it fades, "We need to take that map and get the hell out of here. We need to find somewhere safe to plan and to heal." He looks over at the rest of the party. "And yes, bury him if possible."

Cristobal gets back into character and steps towards the dying monk, gripping his staff and saying, "I swear by this staff, and by the debt of my family to your order, that your death will be avaenged." He shakes his head to Talesin and says, "We need not leave him with such an ignomonious grave. I am not without resources." He sheathes his sword, places the staff underneath his belt and retrieves his robe. Tying the robe back on, he reaches under Lao's head and legs and lifts the man off of the ground.

GAME: Cristobal spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Cristobal (claiming advantage) contests his Athletics (Lifting) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

The Lao-shaped corpse in Cristobal's arms opens one eye, and says, "First person who tries to bury me is gonna end up as the payload for a quantum torpedo." He closes his eyes again, and sticks his tongue out, letting his head fall back. Ack. So dead.

Talesin bows his head for a moment, ignoring the bundle's outburst. "A funeral pyre can be arranged." he's trying very hard to repress his smile, but it's visible, if just barely.

Medes, who was still in the process of looking for a tall place to play lookout, blinks a few times at the apparition and shakes her head slightly. "Nobody's setting Mr. Lao on fire, either, even holographically. Let's go. Risa, you have the map?"

Risa manages to only barely disguise a grin at Lao's acting, then nods her head to the rest of them. "We shalt leave, post-haste, and find a place to rest, and I wilt heal thou. Thee. You people. And, forsooth, we shall follow this map, and avenge the good Sir Lao's death." She then turns her head to smile and nod to Medes. "Yep. Got it." The idea of staying in character is just a little too tough for her.

Cristobal shrugs and says, "I suppose we'll have to pretend we buried him. It's what my character would do. So," he shrugs again and unceremoniously drops Lao. "Let's go!" he says with a grin.

Lao hits the ground with an outraged, "Ow!" And a deep computer voice says, "And, so the adventurers carried the slain Lao of Chiao Mae to a temple, there to see to his burial. And they were directed to his home, and given the key, there to plan the next steps of their adventure..." The holodeck shimmers and the town disappears. The usual polite female voice says, "End, Chapter 1, Swords & Sorcery, 'The Book of Sorrows.'" Lao sits up, wincing. "Ow."

Talesin crouches next to Lao, "Are you okay?" he smiles, offering a hand to the poor abused man. Offering to help him up. Aww.

Lao mutters, "I think I broke my behind." He stands, and smirks at Cristobal. "Thanks, o valiant warrior. So, right. You guys want to do chapter 2, or should we wait until next week?"

Cristobal shrugs and says, "Welcome, honored monk," with a grin. He shrugs and glances at the various other players.

Jameson pulls his hood down and grins. "This has been great fun, and I'm up for chapter two if everyone else is. If not, then next week it is. You couldn't pay me not to do the rest now." He chuckles. "I must confess, I got more into it than I expected."

Talesin grins, leaning against Jameson, now, head tilted to the side, "Perhaps a short break for food and drink?" he suggests, "Twenty minutes, and we meet back up here?"

Lao nods. "Okay. Let's take a break, and come back in a half-hour."

Medes leans back against a wall and shrugs slightly. "I could go either way, really. As far as continuing the adventure goes. I'm up for suggestions. I've got a meeting in the morning, but... " A pause. "Sounds good."