Empyre's Edge

A forum for the Empyre's Edge roleplaying setting.
HomeRegisterLog in

Share | 

 Online Session Recap - 09.11.2018

Go down 
GM of Awesomeness

Posts : 6070

PostSubject: Online Session Recap - 09.11.2018   Sat 17 Nov 2018, 22:26

Tylendel meditates in his chamber in the temple on the Holy Hill, intending to try to reach Ipeshtir Aqisdirmaq, a strange fellow he met the very first time in the Between, outside the Dying Keep.
Focusing, Tylendel feels well rested which gives him the capacity - and the need is getting greater and greater - and suddenly he feels himself somewhere else. The air moves around him, unlike the air in his chamber. Rain patters on him. He opens his eyes to see a grey and hazy world around him. He is on a slope of rocks, grass growing between them. He hears something heavy sway, somewhere - perhaps a rope, or a chain.

He gets on his feet and begins exploring, but suddenly the slope becomes very steep and he realizes, when a gust of wind meets him from below, that he is on a tiny island in the sky, a grey abyss yawning below. Then he sees the source of the sound he heard - it looks indeed like a sort of rope or chain suspended from this island into the haze.
Tylendel tries to use his will to dispel the haze, and manages to make it less hazy around himself - and also noticing he was just a meter away from falling off the island. Moving toward the ropes or chains he sees it is a wooden bridge, the ropes serving as handholds. He also sees more rocks, large and small, suspended in the air around him.
Curious enough to dare the bridge, Tylendel moves out onto it, the ocean far, far below - it looks like Tylendel is in the realm where he met Ipeshtir. Birds shriek from the surrounding haze, and he notices that many of the islands around him are coated in white.

He reaches the other side, where rusted bolts are hammered into the bedrock, to which the bridge is attached. He sees he is on a larger island, but there is what looks like a path around a cliff, and he sees it leads to another bridge - this archipelago in the sky is connected by many of them. He sees bird nests, and a strange-looking growth on the cliffs, reminding him of intensely green cabbage.
He hears something - it sounds like hacking. It turns out to be a man, suspended by rope along a steep cliff, busy hacking off and pulling off bundles of the cabbage-like plants and putting them in a large bag dangling from his back. Tylendel crosses another bridge. It rains a little more now.
The fellow wears a wide, pointy hat, now hanging on his back.
“That looks like a precarious position,” Tylendel says.
The fellow is startled and turns to face Tylendel; the man’s skin is similar in tone to Ipeshtir’s, but it is not him; this one has a mustache and wears a knee-length tunic of blue wool. He gives Tylendel a curious look.
“My pardons for startling you, but I’m somewhat lost, could you tell me where I am?” Tylendel asks.
“What are you?”
“A traveler.”
“You’re not from Ilk.”
“Indeed, I’m not.”
“One moment please, one moment.”
The fellow hoists himself up the cliff, then reappears from the other side of the flying rock they’re on. The two are of equal height. He bows deeply.
“Greetings, stranger, so you are lost. Well, how can I help you?”
“Well, where am I?”
“You are quite close to Yungul Goz, is that where you were going?”
“No, I was heading to Muqed Fevre.”
The fellow looks nervous and skeptical. “Muqed Fevre? Why would you seek him?”
Tylendel thought Muqed Fevre was a place. “Now that’s… interesting. But I was told..he…could help me with some translations, that’s all I know.”
The fellow looks at Tylendel’s scabbarded sword, still nervous. “I’m afraid I want nothing to with Muqed Fevre, but if that is who you seek, you will find him in Yungul Goz. His palace is there.”
“How do I reach Yungul Goz?”
“You don’t know the way? Ah, that’s why you are lost of course. Well, you will have to follow the bridges,” he points along one bridge, “It’s some ways off, in that direction. I am but a lonely harvester of deryaye, and I have to bring my catch home. But if I can do that first, I can show you the way until the first signs show up. Once there you will find the rest of the road yourself.”
“I wouldn’t want to get you involved in something you don’t want to…”
“No, it’s fine. I just stay far away from Yungul Goz. But my wife makes a mean deryaye tea, you could come with me?”
“I’m afraid I’m in a hurry,” Tylendel says.
That seems to surprise the man. “In a hurry? Go around this rock, and follow the bridges.”
Tylendel concentrates and tries to take flight, but somehow it doesn’t work.
“I thank you,” he says to the fellow, and then Tylendel leaves the man.

Alone again, Tylendel begins the long walk toward Yungul Goz. He sees the birds clearly now, with great wingspans and long, elegant necks. Tylendel thinks that he has at least one of his questions answered - whether Muqed Fevre was a man or a place. The landscape remains dream-like; the rain finally stops, and the haze disperses and Tylendel sees he is truly in a strange place with countless boulders and islands in the sky, more than he could imagine. Peasants climb these rocks, gathering deyaye. Some of them help point Tylendel in the right direction. At one point, Tylendel sees a massive squid floating between the isles of the sky, its tentacles trailing behind. It settles on a boulder, its tentacles wrapping around it. There are also spirit-like beings around, it seems. Thin spires of rock disappear into the heavens above - and at last, beyond all the strangeness, Tylendel meets something as mundane as signs with unreadable - for Tylendel - language.
After a while, the smaller rocks and islets disappear and the islands become larger, with greater surfaces, and buildings begin to appear. On one such huge landmass he sees a lake surrounded by buildings, square houses with straw roofs. Crossing the island he comes to yet another bridge, and he continues on. At last he sees in the distance an extremely large landmass floating in the sky, and coming closer he begins to see the outlines of towers and spires on that island - it is the city of Yungul Goz.

In the air between the islands he notices boats. Some vessels are leaving and some are arriving at the city docks - piers jutting out over the sea far below. The city is majestic where it bathes in the pink-red light of the afternoon sun. Great chains are suspended between islands, keeping them together. He sees men in small boats sailing through the air, using poles to push rocks away from the city. A great palace dominates the area near the docks. Great sailing galleys are docked as well as smaller vessels. There are many people about in this dream-like city. At last he finds a broad bridge that takes him across the sky to Yungul Goz. He recognizes the guards flanking the bridge - they are similar to the stoneman who tried to capture him at some other place in the Between - faceless sentinels of rock.

Yungul Goz is a hodgepodge of architectural styles. The city has a peculiar scent, reminding Tylendel of cinnamon. Voices and the creaking of ropes and wood dominate the soundscape; Yungul Goz is a living city, a sharp contrast to ruined Black Bormost. He sees warehouses, cargo loaded and unloaded, a diversity of clothes on the people, a large ship leaving the docks, its captain shouting, people on deck working the sails as it speeds upward; a flock of bird follows it.

Tylendel looks for the Ghostweave, Ipeshtir’s ship. He wanders toward what looks like a marketplace. Most people are dark-skinned and black-haired. He sees bartering, strange coins exchanging hands, haggling merchants and customers. Most people that he sees are unarmed - patrols of stone sentinels do appear regularly around the corners, so maybe weapons are deemed unnecessary. Even the oxen are strange in Yungul Goz, with hairless faces and large horns protruding horizontally from above their eyes.

Tylendel walks over to what looks like a café. A pair of old men with gray beards are sitting at a table outside the building, drinking tea. Their shoes are curiously long.
“Pardon me, gentlemen. I am looking for a certain ship. Is there a harbormaster nearby?”
They look at him for a while, then at each other.
“Hello there, beautiful young man,” one finally says. “The harbormaster would reside right behind us.” He points at a massive building nearby, a building that seems to defy gravity in its size and splendor. “He might not have the time for you, just so you know, he is a very busy man. If you should be unlucky, come and have a cup of tea with us. Good luck.”
Tylendel thanks them for the offer, then walks toward the harbormaster’s office, then changes his mind, and walks toward the docks to look for the Ghostweave again.
There’s something wrong here, Tylendel thinks. Everybody is so… relaxed.

To his surprise, he actually sees Ipeshtir’s small ship, partially hidden by larger nearby vessels. But the people aboard are unfamiliar. A burly man wearing a sash and a saber is standing on the deck giving orders to what looks like two sailors. Tylendel does notice that the ship’s name has been recently painted over.
“Excuse me, I had a knock on the head earlier and I can’t read. What’s the name of that ship?” he asks a passerby, a fellow in a cloak of a hundred rodents.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve heard. But it says Maggot Betty.
“But what does it say underneath that name?”
The stranger squints and also notices the paint hiding letters. “Looks like.. Ghost-something?”
“You’re not from Ilk, are ya. From some of the other places. I’m a furrier, you can usually find me on the islands of Vykalka Zazam, or thereabout. Would you buy a new pretty cloak for a pretty lord?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welco—”
Tylendel walks over and onto the pier where the Ghostweave is docked.

Tylendel decides to find his way up to the massive palace looming over the harbor district. He eventually finds his way up the stairs leading to the two entrance doors. Halfway up the stairs he sees two men discussing with each other. Stone sentinels flank the two doors that are closed.
One of the two men wears a strange hat looking like a conch. He passes them and reaches the doors, not knowing how to proceed; he sees no bell to ring. The doors are absolutely massive - five meters tall. Strange stone-carved creatures occupy the wall above the doors.
“Excuse me,” someone says behind him - it is the man with the conch hat - “Can I assist you?”
“I’d like to see Muqed Fevre. How do I go about doing that?”
“Ah, I’m Ibrim Sark, one of the attendants of this palace. I can tell you that the honorable Muqed Fevre is very busy this year. What kind of business do you have with him, stranger, and may I have your name?”
“My name is Tylendel Greyoak. I seek knowledge. I am a visitor from Eras.”
“I’m afraid I have not heard before your name, nor heard of your home. I find your goal somewhat vague. Knowledge can be so many things.”
“I’m trying to kill Parafor.”
The man frowns at that. “Well, I am sure you, ah, will find a way to deal with that. But you can petition for an audience, of course. I cannot disallow you that.”
“Are there so many visitors from the Empire of the God-kings that no one would see me?”
“Everyone demands Muqed Fevre’s time. He is, after all, the master of the guild.”
“The guild of what?”
“Why, the Guild of Merchants of Yungul Goz. I can take you to my office and sign a petition. But I warn you, the waiting list is quite long.”
Tylendel ponders what to do.
“Does the name Ipeshtir Aqisdirmaq tell you anything?”
The man smiles coldly. “What of him?”
“He was the one that said he would bring my papers to master Muqed Fevre.”
“Yes, for translation.”
“Ah. Well, Ipeshtir Aqisdirmaq no longer works for Muqed Fevre.”
“Is that because of those papers?”
“I would not assume so.”
“I really dislike liars, my friend.”
“And I dislike people who come with vague threats.”
“I haven’t threatened anyone.”
“You implied that I was lying and that you didn’t like that. What would be the next step?”
“No, I told you you are lying. And I do not like liars—”
“How uncouth.”
“I believe I could cut out your eyes before those stone things could catch me.” He places his hand on Howler’s hilt.
The man’s face reddens. “I think we are done here.” He turns and walks down the stairs, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

(Siste del ikke ført enda: Fra 00:49:22.)

The Eras Wiki:
Back to top Go down
Online Session Recap - 09.11.2018
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1
 Similar topics
» Gamma Session
» Beforus Session (Closed)
» Doug's Adventures Online Alternate Ending
» Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' Other Books

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Empyre's Edge :: Online Session Logs-
Jump to: