Post by skelldmcob37 on Jul 9, 2015 12:45:42 GMT -6
Planting 1, 595 CY
As he walked briskly away from the meeting hall, the mayor smiled to himself. "The ring in and of itself is no longer magical. But if the fool thinks I will abide by his guild's good fortune he is mistaken. If he knew anything he would throw the ring into the Selintan. His curiosity will not allow it. A mystery is afoot!"
Last Edit: Jul 9, 2015 12:58:08 GMT -6 by skelldmcob37
Post by skelldmcob37 on Aug 2, 2015 12:43:05 GMT -6
The mayor knew something was rotten in Greyhawk when his business associate Lord Musgrave had been recently murdered by an out of control priest of Pholtus. "Since when are the churches the judge, jury, and executioner here in Greyhawk?" "Whare are we going, Mayor Gasgal?" The bodyguard normally would not speak until spoken to but he felt emboldened by fear of the unknown. "To a safe house in Hardby? I have some friends in Matrix who have been asking about me. Maybe now would be a good time for a visit?" The mayor did not acknowledge his man. This only served to make the guard even more nervous. Finally the mayor replied, "You know what Lathan? Even though we do not know why, there are reasons for everything and it is up to us to find them. In some cases we must unlock those secrets from both the living and the dead. I have heard of one who may be able to help us who might be unaffected by the unraveling of the weave." "Make preparations for a long journey into the dry lands. We seek Gaspar."
Post by skelldmcob37 on Sept 2, 2015 8:09:11 GMT -6
"And where are you off to?". The mayor did not turn to look at who was addressing him. He replied, "Apparently it is up to me once again to save my city. Now are you two going to help or what?" The two Mayor Gasgal was referring to were the erstwhile head of the now haunted Mages Guild Jallari and Ravel Dasinder, Patriarch of Boccob, god of magic. Jallari said, "Tell me where you are going first." "Nerof, you are almost 60, and I almost 70. Isn't this something we should delegate to younger, stronger adventurers?" Ravel rarely said these many words together and when he did speak most listened. As High Priest of Boccob he had insights most others could only dream. Perhaps even greater than The Oracle. "Did you have anyone in mind?" asked Nerof as he turned and grinned that goofy smile that has only gotten more quaint as time went on. "You see", said Ravel to Jallari. "I told you we were worried over nothing." Turning back to Nerof he said, "There are a few candidates. One in particular is worth watching. One is someone you may know. And the other three are honing their crafts all the time. They currently are investigating an old rumor that seems to have some truth and if they survive I would ask them. Well, I would not ask them. Currently those two idiots Sluggo and Dwizzl are at it again but this time I see bad things in their future. Clouds made of rigid ice, unyielding despite their floating appearance have obscured their future. They have been warned but I fear it will not help them." "All right", said Nerof. "How long do we wait?" Ravel replied, "If I were you I would go on holiday and wait for my missive. I know that is distasteful to you old friend but there are so few others who could help." Nerof thought about the situation and looked at Jallari. "What say you?" "I would step back and delegate, oh great Lord Mayor," Jallari winked. She seemed amused at the thought of Nerof doing something other than getting his hands dirty. "Praise Boccob," said Nerof.
Last Edit: Sept 10, 2015 8:49:59 GMT -6 by skelldmcob37
Post by skelldmcob37 on Sept 10, 2015 11:28:51 GMT -6
"Dwizzl and Sluggo are dead." The words hung in the air as the members of the Oligarchy tried to wrap their minds around the implications. "If this does not call us to action nothing will," said Nerof. The Oligarchy was made up high ranking nobles, guild leaders, and high priests of the city. They elected the mayor and held his thoughts in high esteem. "Isn't this something the Chief Constable should handle?" said Mordecai Musgrave, elder of the House of Musgrave. The Patriarch of Rao, Jerome Kasinskaia said,"I would think this would be something Derider would not be equipped to do. Obviously if the chancellor of Otto and his nemesis the Wyrm Sage were defeated and displayed, the villain or villains are above the threat level that her office should reasonably be expected to confront." "Oh give me a break," said Sental Nurev, Captain of the Watch. "It was Iuz." The murmuring at the sound of Iuz's name became silent very quickly. "He has made it very clear he can strike us at any time and any place he chooses. Long has he sought a violent end to our city." "Without the Circle of Eight to protect us were are vulnerable," said Nerof. "We need allies or at least someone or something that can bolster our defenses." The Patriarch of Boccob, god of magic, Ravel Dasinder, looked at Mordecai. "Until this threat is dealt with you should put a stay on your plans of revenge." Mordecai said flatly, "Until this threat is dealt with we Musgrave's will continue to do whatever the hell we want." He stood up and pounded the table with his fist. "This threat," he shouted, "will destroy Greyhawk before I put on hold the burial and retribution my family has suffered!"
Post by skelldmcob37 on Oct 28, 2015 22:15:49 GMT -6
The Lord Mayor of the Free City of Greyhawk, Nerof Gasgal, swung onto his horse's saddle and grunted. Along with thirteen guards and Lathan, his henchman. "Too many things are happening, trying to distract me," he thought. "I will find Gaspar. I will find out why magic has gone. Why things that should be smooth are now difficult." He nearly swayed too far in his saddle before righting himself. He snorted his displeasure and started away. The day was pleasant enough, hardly a bad omen. He had no time to consult any seer or oracle. This journey was probably going to end one of two ways, "My victory celebration or my death." "What was that my lord?" asked Latham. "Nothing Latham, just talking to myself."
Post by skelldmcob37 on Dec 21, 2015 20:20:53 GMT -6
It had now been one moon since Nerof had left the comforts of the City of Greyhawk. His travels had been uneventful but not boring. Too long had he been concerned only with the city business or with furthering the guild. He wondered if he had any redeeming qualities. "Why am I unable to find a wife?" he thought. "I am not that unattractive, nor am I uncouth or a pauper. I wonder what it must be like to have children and then grandchildren. I wonder, have I let my life slip away with nothing to show for it?" "My lord Mayor, we approach the desert. A sign post says 'This Way to the Tower of Frogs'," the commander of the guard spoke in low tones as if to avoid being heard. "I know it appears we will have to die of thirst if we go in there but never fear, I have come prepared with gifts from my friends." Nerof produced three sacks from his saddle bags and then got down from his horse awkwardly, revealing his lack of training or even experience with horses and mounted travel. He was usually in a carriage or in disguise when he mingled with the common folk of the city. In the first sack was a large decanter made of thick glass, a rare and valuable commodity on this continent. From the second he pulled out several cups and bowls. Most were made of wood but three cups were made of crystal. One each for himself, Latham, and Revis, commander of the guard. The third sack held what appeared to be a loaf of bread. "We shall make camp here. Commander, set watches. I want four watches of three men. Latham, prepare my tent and take the contents of these sacks inside. After a while I will provide the men with all the food and drink I feel is necessary if the rations run low. Tomorrow I will be going into the desert alone. Is that understood?" Revis nodded obediently and Latham began unpacking and setting up camp. "Mayor?" asked Latham, "How long should we wait here after you have gone before we leave and return to Greyhawk City?" "No more than a moon," said Nerof. "If I have not returned in a moon announce my disappearance and tell the Oligarchy I should be considered dead."
Post by skelldmcob37 on Jan 28, 2016 21:23:30 GMT -6
For three days and nights Nerof Gasgal trudged through the Desert of Despair. Every time he thought he was lost he noticed a trail marker or land mark of some kind. A long forgotten campsite, a broken signpost, even skeletons of those who had attempted this journey in the past. His thoughts wavered between determination and hopelessness. "This placed is aptly named," he thought. He was grateful his traveling pouches and water skins were holding up to the elements. On the fourth night he had found an outcropping of rock that provided much needed shelter from perceived "things" in the dark. In fact the hiking along the flat featureless plain of what he thought was sand was rather boring. The rock was actually a welcome sight and for the first time since entering the desert Nerof slept until morning. When he awoke he was startled to see a tiny skeleton, naked and alone, no larger than a small dog or duck. It was watching him, perched on the rock that jutted out over his sleeping bag. Nerof started to laugh when the skeleton put his bony tiny fingers to his exposed teeth and jaw in what resembled a 'shush'ing motion. Nerof fell silent. The skeleton then pointed past Nerof to something past the rock. Nerof slowly got up, dagger in hand to look. Some 15 feet away there was a chariot made of bone, being pulled by six skeletal horses. It had wheels made of curved bones with spokes of bones, and a chariot floor and walls made of perfectly interlocking bones. It was sometimes hard to see against the dull white sand of the desert. "Clever," thought Nerof. The tiny skeleton jumped off it's rocky seat and ran, albeit slowly since it was so small, to the chariot and hopped in. It looked back with eyeless sockets in it's tiny skull and motioned for Nerof to join him. Aloud for the first time, Nerof said, "Apparently Gaspar is at least a well mannered conjurer. I hope he continues to treat the Lord Mayor of Greyhawk to a manner in which he is accustomed." The tiny skeleton showed no reaction but the skeleton horses reared up and if they had organs to make nose would have whinnyed and bayed. No sound same from the hollowness that was there. Lord Mayor Nerof Gasgal then cinched his belt, grabbed his possessions and climbed into the chariot. "If this is the way of death," he said," then let it be something I have not seen. And I never saw this."
Post by skelldmcob37 on Mar 21, 2016 23:10:08 GMT -6
Nerof Gasgal stepped down from the chariot. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he took in a most strange sight. A tower of stone rising into the air in the middle of a tropical garden. "In the desert?" he thought. The garden seemed to form a wide ring around the tower. Further in the garden ring humanoid skeletons could be seen tending to the plants. Curiously, each skeleton carried a small metal disk slung over their shoulders, hanging by a leather strap. Hanging next to the disks there was a large padded drumstick. "What are the gongs for?" Nerof approached the garden ring and saw the tiny skeleton beckoning him closer. Nerof noticed a thin pathway leading into the ring. The skeleton walked down the path and Nerof followed. The man sized skeletons did not seem to notice him as the path lead to and fro in a haphazard manner but slowly closer to the tower. "Surely this path is to slow down anyone not invited. The plants of the garden seem too close together for any other reason." Finally the path lead Nerof to an average wooden door at the base of the tower, with one stone step leading to it. The stone of the tower appeared to be granite or maybe unpolished marble with no distinguishing markings. Nary an window was seen. The tower seemed approximately 40 feet in diameter and probably twice that height. It was actually a pleasant place once you got past the skeletons. The temperature was cooler the closer you got to the tower and the sound of trickling water and the occasional splashing told Nerof there was water and something in then water. "Water here as well. This fellow really knows his shit." Nerof tried not to laugh at the absurdity of all of this. The door opened and a skeleton wearing a red sash motioned for him to enter. It made a creaking sound as if it's old bones were worn out. Nerof surmised this was the necromancer's greeter. With more confidence than necessary Nerof said "Nerof Gasgal, Lord Mayor of the Free City of Greyhawk, here to request an audience with Gaspar, master of the Tower of Frogs and Lord of the Desert of Despair." A disembodied voice emanated from the center of the room. "Come inside Mayor. Make yourself comfortable. I will be with you shortly."
Post by skelldmcob37 on Apr 21, 2016 20:10:52 GMT -6
Dark sunken eyes stared at Nerof. Gaspar's face showed his apparent age. "I wonder how old he really is," thought Nerof.
Nerof took another drink. "This wine is surprising good. Elven feywine if I am not mistaken."
"It is," said Gaspar. Dressed in a comfortable red and black robe and smoking a meerschaum pipe that resembled a tiny skeletal hand, Gaspar did not have a threatening or even a powerful countenance. He seemed tired to Nerof. He took a slow long drag on his pipe and blew the smoke into the ceiling.
"I'm not sure what I am supposed to do next so I'll just come out with it," said Nerof. "Is there a way I could pay you to find out where the members of the Circle of Eight have gone? Or why magic items and other such things have gone away from Greyhawk? I don't know where else to turn. I refuse to owe the clergy any more favors, they practically run the city as it is."
Gaspar perked up at the mention of the 'circle' but then relaxed again. "I can tell you all this for absolutely no gold or gems. I can tell you all this if you can handle the truth as I see it. Can you handle the truth and what it might mean for your city?"
Nerof nodded in agreement. "I am prepared to be unimpressed," he thought.
"Iuz has successfully found the key to defeating Greyhawk. He has found the secret to the Clorin Stone. He sent his agents, most recently the Naga called Isixix or some such shit, to disperse the stone into the mountains that feed Greyhawk it's water supply. With the help of thiose Renalsite soldiers duped into helping her she has 'de-magicked' your city and the surrounding lands. I know for a fact all the mages have been poisoned and assassinated. I know because their corpses are here."
Noticing Nerof's face and the shocked look he said, "How I obtained them is of no concern. They were already dead. I mean, really, what's an old necromancer to do besides grave rob these days?"
Nerof regained his composure and asked,"Did you steal all their belongings too?"
"Of course. If the next of kin did not want me to have them they should have not buried them with the dead. But come now, there is no one left that can use the items and better kept here than out on the black market for untrained bunglers to use."
Nerof found himself remembering how he used those same words on many occasions when dealing with the gangs of Greyhawk. A new magic item would pop up and before the gangs would fight over them he would swoop in and demand they be turned over to him for safe keeping. Never mind how he could move the items and pocket the coins without splitting the profits. Usually another street for the gang to control would be enough.
"Is that all," Nerof said. "Just Iuz? Since when was he clever enough for any of his plans tpo be able to take down one of the circle let alone all of them?"
"He has an inside man, obviously. Look to the noble families. Only one of the Directing Oligarchy would have the motive and the power to do such a thing. Any of the nobility have trade with Renalse? The Clorin Stone comes from there after all."
Post by The Dungeon Master on Feb 6, 2017 18:30:23 GMT -6
Brewfest 1, CY 595
The Mayor of Greyhawk City was getting reacquainted with his subordinates when he was summoned before the Oligarchy. "I do not have time for this," he thought. "But I must keep up appearances."
He shuffled a few more papers before leaving and taking a long slow walk to City Hall. Though it was the adjacent building to the three story tower where Nerof lived, he hated walking there. "How is it after all I have done they summon me as if I was a lackey and not one of the directors? I have just as much power as anyone else."
In the Grand City Hall there was a large conference room where the Oligarchy would meet every Starday to discuss business and keep everyone informed of the state of the city. Usually the meetings were short. Today's meeting would not.
"I discovered Musgrave's plot. I defeated his mysterious henchman. I prevailed in the arena. What more could they want? Have they discovered our move on the prize? Did someone rat us out? This will take diplomacy, Nerof. Get a hold of yourself."
He walked in and took his seat with the other directors and waited. He thought, "I could really use a stiff drink right now."
In my game CHARISMA is more important than STRENGTH.
Post by The Dungeon Master on Mar 21, 2017 20:55:15 GMT -6
"We have information that would lead us to believe the Circle of Eight may have been poisoned. The well nearest the college of wizardry was found to be tainted." Derider Fanshen, Captain of the Watch looked like she had been crying. This was the first time anything solid had been put forth attempting to explain the mages disappearance and she seemed to be taking it hard. Derider looked around with searching eyes before settling on Nerof.
"I too miss them. All of them. Listen while I tell you what I have learned." Nerof proceeded to tell the Directing Oligarchy everything, including Musgrave's duplicity and Gaspar's involvement.
The room fell silent for a time. Sometimes a sniffle, sometimes a heavy breath.
Suddenly everyone had something to say. It was like the dam broke and accusations, conspiracies, and threats were brought forth. Even the usually quiet and introspective members had something to say.
"Quiet, all of you!" Nerof Gasgal, Lord Mayor of Greyhawk, was in no mood for politics. He wanted revenge. "Where is Musgrave?"
In my game CHARISMA is more important than STRENGTH.