Quatro Dysfunctional, the prelude, the meeting, the clash.
A kitty gets glassed.
It's been a while since I've written anything and my brain is balancing quality control with dealing with the frustration being recalled as I think about what happened in the sessions. So please ba patient and forgive, fellow players.
It was midday. My skin was gently simmering under the rays of the early Autumn sun.
Landmouth was just ahead of me. I'd travelled far to the eastern side of Dunmanster, the island. For somebody born and raised in the west, that brought quite a few risks.
Avoid major cities, circumvent checkpoints, hide holy symbols and masquerade as a simple wandering mercenary. In truth, I'm a cultist of the old world and that can make things difficult.
The town was spread out over a countryside close to the shore. It had a rustic appearance to it and it wasn't the first time I'd visited. I understood that at the very centre stood a very urbanised and bustling market.
It was inside the border of Hao Kittydom. It's residents were predominantly lizards, and the community in general was loving and friendly.
They would let bad-tempered humans like me stick to themselves. It was these model little towns with their friendly and welcoming communities that cultists like myself could use to move around.
And that's what I was looking for in the new world. Of course there were cultists in the old world, I was one of them. However they make their plays in plain sight in the old world, here cultists are savy and cunning. There are cults here who have untapped storages of ancient knowledge that even my own god, Malal, has not heard of.
I would be starting from Landmouth and snake my way from major city to city on my way back to the old world. Hopefully by then my backpack and my diary upon my return will be ladden with knowledge and more candy trails to yet more treasures my god could use to reverse our fortunes.
But geez, I could start with a few clouds in the sky for a break from that sun, I think to myself as I lift my snow white hand to shield my glassy opal eyes.
Shifting my backpack over my shoulder and adjusting my scratched shield on my arm, I press forward, tucking my chin beneath by scarf.
A few minutes after walking into town, to my left the door to the small local police station opens up and out steps a shaken and soaked tiefling.
Another victim to the lizard police duo, eh?
Red skinned and dressed very dapper, he takes out a dripping wet clipboard and sighs with despair. He makes a futile attempt to light up a damp cigar but it won't go.
One look was all it took to see he had it rough. Probably not from these parts, he looked as though he'd been dragged out from a maelstrom at sea.
And he certainly smelt like it to. But as much as he smelt of the sea he smelt of a good story.
Casually approaching, I cast light on the end of his cigar.
Shock, surprise, those emotions register on his face and he looks in my direction.
Betraying my usual lack of empathy, I put on a casual smile. Sure I was helping him out of boredom, but I could at least feign sympathy to keep my guise of humanity.
I had burnt people alive at the stake without flinching after all. I could try and cling to humanity but my hands wouldn't find anything to gain purchase on.
In greeting I stretch out my hand. "The name's Cai, I'm just humble passer-by."
ShadyDeflectionShieldsAreAGo!
His needle like eyes bore into me. "T-thanks..." His tone a little shaky, he clearly needs a break. "I've had a reeeaaaaally bad day."
No doubt about it. His clothes are soaked and his wrists have bruising as though he's been chained to a wall.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. How about we get you somewhere dry and something warm in your belly?" By something warm I mean some nice burning alcohol to get those lips lose enough for some amusing stories.
Meek and a little awkward, he seems a bit too shaken to say much so I practically have to manhandle him in the direction of the local and only traveller's lodge.
"My name is Behelsatheth'lindradel." He introduces himself stiffly.
Buhall... Balsamic... B...
I scratch my chin rolling the name around soundlessly in my mouth.
Ah hell, I'll do what I usually do. I'll avoid addressing his name and wait until somebody else can pronounce it then mimic them.
The local traveller's lodge belongs to a very threatening lizardperson called Xena. She certainly, unless you are the epitome of 0 IQ, is not somebody you want to piss off. I've visited before and narrowly avoided it.
A small walk later and he's sat down in front of a warm homely fire. Since it's harvest season, all hands are busy working to bring in the crop. There aren't many wondering labourers walking about this time of day.
At a first glance the bar appears to be quite empty.
The place is cosy, nice, warm, safe, and uh... What's this feeling of a death glare on my back?
It can't be Xena, she's polishing the glass and I haven't done anything yet I think so...
Of course, at the corner of the bar sat on a stool, the corner where all bad things come from in a bar, a chestnut tail swaying back and forth leads the eyes to the form a tabaxi wearing a face mask. At either side of their hip, two pistols are stashed in holsters.
I'm getting some bad vibes here, but I can't leave B by himself. I haven't caused any trouble so I'm just gonna-
Oh god she's standing up and walking this way.
ThinkFast!
"Stay there, I'll get you something to drink." I pat B's shoulder. He doesn't react, just staring ominously into the fire.
I make for the bar, crossing lines with the Tabaxi but I'll be damned if she gets the first word in.
In height, the tips of her ears come to about my chest.
"-" She opens her mouth but confidently I cut across her.
Sorry mum, you said don't cut across women. Ah well, she's dead anyway, what's she gonna do?
"Hey, you mind looking after that guy by the fire, he's had a REALLY bad day I'm gonna get him drink k bye."
Strutting right past her I don't even look behind me. Shovelling this on her may distract her for precious seconds.
A few seconds do roll by and and I don't feel the hand of danger reach out and grab my shoulder forcefully nor a gunshot wound in my back. Thankfully manners and politeness are a weakness in my enemies I can exploit.
Enemies? That might be a bit strong. It's just a feeling of foreboding. Given time it'll pass, I just have to act benign and helpful.
"Hi, could I have uh... three drinks please? Ale I mean." I trip on my words as Xena shoots me a powerfully indifferent look. Her stronk scaly hands reach for tankards and pour the ale before setting them down on the bar counter for me.
I pick the three up and make my way back.
The sight of B and the Tabaxi talking is slightly welcoming. In a sense, the friendly tone of their conversation acts as music to my ears but also as damming evidence I'm the target of the Tabaxi's glare.
However, B could be used as a shield for the time being. By placing him between me and the Tabaxi, even if just socially means that just maybe the risk of causing trouble to B would outweigh the reward of causing trouble to me.
Devious. That's my style. There can't be any flaws in this plan.
Besides, who'd start a fight in infamous Xena's traveller's lodge but those who can only be described as a deficit through and through?
She stands up, her eyes show a razor sharpness. However...
"Here." I push a tankard of ale to her, stopping her hands reaching for any weapons.
I take a seat next to B and hand the sullen faced Tiefling his drink.
The feeling of the death glare doesn't go away, however, I try to join the conversation with a pleasant smile, trying too hard not to meet eyes with the Tabaxi.
She's searching me over top to bottom. It's like she's searching every square inch of my face for something.
All is going arguably well in the conversation that I can take my eyes of ther until...
"All'right yo-" CRASH. The sound of a heavy impact and shattering glass cuts off the cowboy-like voice behind me.
Duck. A feeling, no, more like a compulsion or instinct grips me.
The same goes for the sullen Tiefling as we duck our head and the sound of glass shattering against the wall explodes like a barrel of gunpowder over the room.
An air of malice, enough to make one shoot the chute, to evacuate their bowels, to piss their pants, thickens the air and makes it hard to breath.
A thunderous voice booms from the bar counter. "If you're going to cause trouble, you're barred!"
Behind me, a bloody headed, concussed or unconscious-I can't tell- Tabaxi had been glassed in the head by a bottle travelling at a very high velocity mid motion of drawing her pistol behind my back.
Um... what?
I look to Xena, I get the idea she's addressing all of us. In a state of fear and confusion I try to raise my meek voice "but-"
"GET OUT!"
More deadly projectiles are soon to follow.
Great, I'm bared from the only traveller's lodge in town because a deficit of a Tabaxi tried to pull a gun on me.
Not even the tiefling has a moment to look sullen as we both grab the Tabaxi who's life is in mortal peril and make a hasty exit towards the door.
Standing outside in a daze, we set about tending to the gaping head wounds on the Tabaxi's, well, head.
An unappealing mess of blood and fur I COULD use a cure wounds on, but just as the thought crosses my mind a vindictive anger stays my hand.
Suffer you Moron. Suffer the consequences of your actions enough for all of us.
As this goes on, another lizardperson enters the fray.
"Um... Your kitty friend looks a little hurt there..." The concerned and and motherly like voice belongs to a lizardperson who later introduced herself as Vesta.
Indignation rears it's ugly head at the mere though of being lumped in with the Tabaxi.
From out of her shadow steps a petite halfling with a... ridiculously huge blue wizard's hat and a scholarly outfit to match. "W-w-w-w-we sh-sh-should h-help her."
I take a step back as the conversation begins to steer itself. The tiefling of course is in even more shock and looks to be shaking. The bleeding has at least stopped on the Tabaxi. The small peculiar timid halfling introduced himself as Bovril at some point I don't remember.
Just as I was pondering at what point did my day begin spiralling into mess, Vesta with a look of concern picks up the shaken Tabaxi.
"We should get all of you inside. You all look like you need a big rest. My lovely and kind partner runs a lodge near here."
Shivers run down my spine. L-lovely and kind? A lodge? Could it be...
Before any of us have any chance to complain or make a proper protest we are whisked away by the motherly Vesta... back into the death den come lodge.
This was the start to my first session with a group of 5. All but 1 was a complete stranger and I had no idea how this would turn out. That took about the sum of 2 hours to act out due to distractions. Traces of fatigue and cynicism will hence forth leak into my character and make him through and through a colossal dick. I do like my group, it's just there's an engine in everybody's head that's fuelled by boilers named after emotions. Hatred, cynicism, and spite are the only boilers working in my head. Overwork eventually makes these boilers break and all I can run on then is the steam of apathy.