A very quiet healer, who didn't put himself forwards, trying to understand how the game works. Seeking the real motivations of the players, the meaning of the rules...to the point where the GM was worried I was too quiet. And possibly not enjoying the game.
In the other corner we have Xmond, the pirate. Though out the time we've played, there has been constant pilfering, thieving and downright grief caused by these wilful depredations. Powerful artefacts taken from important people - people who we need, like the person who gave us our boat. (Well, ship. First age artefact capable of levelling a large village. Boat.)
This constant though mostly good natured) plundering aggravates sometimes, as it draws much attention, hinders other goals and burns time on a non-essential point, that leaves the rest if the group twiddling their thumbs. So I decided to do something about it.
But how do you separate a pirate from his treasure?
Do you attack? Well, he's a pirate. With a pirate crew. Which would just take Forever to chew my way though. And besides, he's got a semi-immortal parrot that can drag a man into the air and drop him from a height.
Yes, semi-immortal. Don't ask.
We could...call the city watch onto him. But then they'd find out he's exalted. AKA Anathema - about as popular as an arsonist at a fire-fighters convention. Hunted to the death for the last thousand years or so.
And if he's exalted, what about his friends? The Wild Hunt is distracted as of late, but its still not to make big waves...
I could steal it back, and return it to its rightful owners. But while I am of the night caste (a thing which raises no few eyebrows. A healer who can disappear at a whim...) I couldn't steal a candy from a baby. Certainly not from a skilled pirate.
Perhaps we could ask him for them? The spoils collected over weeks of effort, from a dozen places? Acquired against the will of the party, assorted owners and the DMs best efforts.
Unlike the weapons of a grammerton cleric - or his pants - asking for them is not the way to go.
Or...or...I'm a healer. And he's a pirate. Hmmm.
So I wait, till we run into another circle (aka party) of Exalted. Meet "Crow the Boy", another thief after Xmond heart. A little ten year old girl, who would steal your heart, wallet and socks before you even noticed she wasn't a boy, as her name proclaimed.
And alas, suffering from a plague we had encountered before. Not only her, but most of the children of the gutter inhabiting the city of Nexus.
So imagine the scene, after Xmond spent the day with her, robbing hard the richest merchants they could fined. Retiring after a hard days looting to the inn belonging to Opulent Dragon, Crow's guardian and barmaid.
Think, if you can, of the bewilderment and puzzlement of Xmond's player, as the conversation begins.
Me: Its so wasteful, and tragic.
Xmond: Huh?
Me:
Xmond: What??
Me: And you've shown her such remarkable kindness. Such a waste.
Xmond: How? When?
Me: Why, Crow of course. You know she's dying...
As the room goes silent, both the other players and our imaginary bar room. Crow the boy breaks into tears, hiding in Opulent Dragon's petticoat, bawling her eyes out. Opulent Dragon glaring at all, me most of all.
Onwards, the snowball that starts an avalanche falls.
...of course its treatable, but pointless to try. Pointless? Why, yes of course - she'd be re-infected by the gutter children, for whom she steals for to buy food and clothing.
I suppose I could cure them all, but I couldn't possibly. Why...the cost of course. My herbs and supplies would barely heal one, yet alone the dozens and hundreds of the city.
If only my little funds hadn't been stolen days ago...what, Xmond, you have funds suitable to the task? To save hundreds of children from a slow, lingering death wracked with pain and terror?
So the best way to separate a pirate from his treasure is...to let him give it to you.
2 comments:
Tell me Martin - have you ever thought about a career in politics?
Martin,
As you know, Gordon Brown's "Tax Cutting" budget introduced 40 new taxes. Can you think of a way to seperate his grubby mits from my cash?
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