DPrP: Keg Run!
Tenebrae - Saturday, March 17, 2012, 6:24 PM
======================= Plot Announcements =======================
Message: 3/35 Posted Author Keg Run! Mon Mar 12 Mikilos
With the seasons turn, the valleys show firm signs of spring, and the weather turns warm and plesant. But in the upper mountains winter still clings, it's last fingerhold slipping from the passes held this last season.
For those who dare to live in these upper elevations, or those in the hidden valleys between, spring means an end to winters isolation, the reopening of roadways, and fresh supplies.
And for those toiling under the snow at the Louis Mine, it means the yearly Race of the First Keg.
While other supplies may be sorely needed, none bring quite the joy and celebration to hard working miners as a fresh keg of quality booze, tapped for all to enjoy. Over time this has evolved into a friendly compition between suppliers, and this year the contest is opening to the public. A race shall be held, and the first to bring an Offical Keg to the Louis Mine shall be declared Supplier Of The Year, with all benifits that go along with it. (predominantly, bragging rights)
<<This will be an open scene, to start at 7 MUSH time, on Saterday March 17th. All are welcome, be it as those helping to secure the route of the race, participants in the race, mere bystanders enjoying the celebration, or those helping to bring far more serious supplies once the path has been forged. Ideas and assistance welcome.>>
==================================================================
Here near the base of the mountains a gathering has formed. Several tents are set by those who arrive the night before, and numerous wagons and horses stand around waiting. One wagon stands out in particular, piled with small kegs, and surrounded by various important looking people who talk important things before scurryin off on important tasks of some sort. Nearby, a table has been set up to record names of those wishing to partake in the Race.
The race itself, as a few crude maps being distrubuted show, winds thru a brief bit of woods before climbing up a mountain path, to the Louis Mine high above. Though a few have made the trip on foot this year, as yet no horse has gone thru the pass. That should all change today, with races participants forgeing the way (riding or on foot, little bias is given) and followed by supply wagons to finish clearing the path, repairing the route, and making good for the comming season.
Those wishing to participate need only sign up, and offer a small registration fee to discourage wandering off with a 'free' keg. The fee will be returned at the end of the race with the return of an intact keg.
The wizard Mikilos is currently taking names at the registration.
Azog signs up for this endeavor with a solemn expression, paying his coin, and giving what information is needed. His horse, with armor and such in a large back on its withers, stamps the ground behind him. "Were we to bring our own horse, or are competition horses provided?" he asks.
"How exactly does a horseback Keg Run even work? what, do we put the keg in our arms and just hold it while the horse does all the work?" Teppus has never the less signed up, of course. He's more than happy to do this and be here and seems pretty proud of himself.
Where there is competition there is Gragnar. He's moving either out of an attempt to warm up or simply out of the excitement at the potential of contest. There's a grin on the oruch's face as he waits for his turn in the queue, doing squats and swinging his arms as widely as he can without hitting anyone on accident. He listens to the rules still sounding rather pleased to be here.
Walking her way down to the area, Divada comes to merely watch. She wasn't much for competition, but she DID like to watch. PLus, she was celebrating opening of trade route as well.
Mikilos carefully records the names and information, motions towards the nearby booze-laden wagon. "These kegs are pretty small, shouldn't have too much trouble carrying one. Though suppose that's part of the challenge. Bring your own horse, or mule, or whatever. This is the first year we've really needed to worry about such things, so if you've any concerns please speak with one of the oraganizers, we'll try to get everything sorted out before the start."
Beyond the adventurers giving their hand to the event, three others stand out of those signing up. The BrewMaster Timmens, a solid man of advanced years has provided the mine with it's liquor for years. Newcommer Salus the merchant offered, and won, the right to provide last season in a susprise upset. And Burans of merchanthouse Travens makes his bid this year.
In addition to the racers, two major groups are forming. The first, a small collection of nature sorts and healers are departing now, to be along the path to offer aid to any foolhardy racers who ends up breaking his neck along the way. The second, larger group comprises of assorted sightseers, a large wagon of tools and supplies to help finish the road, and several smaller wagons of food, tools, and various supplies bound for the mine and its workers.
<<Rolls for NPCs. Rolls are totaled, highest wins. Failures to meet a TN results in dropping one rank. Fail by 5 or more, something bad happens, such as keg breaking.>> <<Brewmaster Timmens rolls. Flat +7 to all rolls. Experienced older man, assumed to take cautious route. First roll, Iniative, off to a running start. Second roll, Survial, find path thru the trees. Third roll, Ride if on horse, Dexteriety if on foot, cross a fallen tree. Base TN of 15, -10 if going slow or on foot. Next roll, Perception, find path up shale slope, or if on foot, Climb to force way upward. Final roll, Ride or Dex, avoid twisting leg on rutted stony path. Again, -10 to TN if slow or on foot.>>
GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18 to Mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+7: (6)+7: 13 to Mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 to Mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14 to Mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+7: (12)+7: 19 to Mikilos
Achala queues up, happy enough to give his name. He's seemingly eager to beat down his body with a mountain hike. Azog takes his small keg under one arm, carrying it easily, and mounts up on his horse. It's used to heavy loads, and doesn't seem too put off by a little more, and the big oruch walks his horse up to the starting line. He takes a look at all the assembled present, a thoughtful expression on his face as he works out how best to carry the keg as he rides. He offers a nod to Gragnar, and any other racers who are already ready.
Mikilos joins the group with the repair wagon, after everyone has signed up. The wizard ready to help repair the damages cause by winter storms.
A pair of miners who've made their way down on foot set up the starting line, holding a long ribbon between them for racers to stand behind until dropped, at which point the race will begin.
<<Rolls for Merchant Salus, a risktaker. Base +5 skills, +12 ride.>>
GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+12: (8)+12: 20 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+12: (16)+12: 28 to mikilos
"Look at all the people. Gods above, this is great. The kegs better be worth it, though," Teppus is grinning now. He takes a moment to crack his knuckles. "All right, then!" He's getting into it withthe racers, yeah. Gragnar steps forward, pays his money, and, after a brief inquiry, ending in a gesture towards the other racers lining up on foot, he lets out a laugh and heads over to retrieve his keg. The large oruch turns it over a couple times, getting a feel for the weight and balance of it, and then retrieves some rope, starting to work up a sort of harness, unless some offical comes over to stop him.
Achala hefts his keg, settling it in one arm, then the other. He nods towards Azog, then studies Gragnar's harness. A grunt, and a smile, then he goes back to settling it on a shoulder.
COntent to sit off to the side and watch the event take place, Divada smiles and giggles at Mikilos with the repair wagon and sits down off the path to make sure she's not run over by the racers.
You paged Azog with 'Okay, could you please roll me your Initiative, Survival, and Ride, skills?' GAME: Azog rolls initiative: (6)+initiative: 6 to mikilos GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+2: (2)+2: 4 to mikilos GAME: Azog rolls survival: (17)+10: 27 to mikilos GAME: Azog rolls ride: (13)+10: 23 to mikilos Azog offers a nod to Achala as well, and hrms, checking out the competitors. His horse is calm, almost serene despite all the things going on, and Azog is as well. He expects no danger, clad only in a coat and pants, no armor, though he does wear a sword at his hip. Long distance to Teppus: Mikilos nods. "Then please roll me Initiative, Survival, and Ride." From afar, Teppus's init is 1, survival is wisdom, so +1, and ride is dex.. so +1. xD Gragnar slips on his harness, the keg resting close to his back. The monk rises to his feet, and moves his arms about, testing his mobility, giving a nod of acknowledgement to Achala and Azog then takes his position at the starting line, moving into a readied stance. As the other racers line up, Brewmaster Timmens and the merchant Salus eye each others a moment, glowering a bit... before breaking down into a round of laughs. The results may be serious but neither is letting the compitition get in the way of their elsewise friendship.
GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (7)+1: 8 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (7)+1: 8 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (10)+1: 11 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (10)+1: 11 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (20)+1: 21 to mikilos GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+1: (20)+1: 21 to mikilos You paged Gragnar with 'Please roll me Initiative, Survival, and a flat dexterity check, please.' GAME: Gragnar rolls initiative: (10)+initiative: 10 to Mikilos Gragnar pages: Oops. He's got a +3 to init GAME: Gragnar rolls survival: (8)+5: 13 to mikilos GAME: Gragnar rolls dexterity: (20)+3: 23 to mikilos You paged Achala with 'Please roll me Initiative, Survival, and a flat dexterity check, please.' GAME: Achala rolls initiative: (16)+initiative: 16 to mikilos From afar, Achala hehs. Init is +4. GAME: Achala rolls survival: (14)+5: 19 to mikilos GAME: Achala rolls dexterity: (14)+4: 18 to mikilos
With a shout, the ribbon is dropped, and the race begins! The merchant Salus takes an early lead, the swift footed Achala hot behind. Brewmaster Timmens leads the pack, with the orc Azog bringing up a close rear.
Entering into the woods, the main path has several branches which break away, perhaps offering a swifter, if less certain route. Newcommer Burans breaks away on an early alternative, disappearing into the trees. The orc Azog finds himself a partly overgorwn deer path with cuts around several natural hedges, cutting his time signifanctly, while Achala notices a log bridging a small gorge, and saves himself a trip around.
The various paths converge again, only to find a large tree has been blown across the path. Brewmaster Timmens takes a slow but sure route, leading his horse around, while other simply vault over top, slowing little.
The trees open into a large clearing, giving a swift view of progress before entering into the mountains proper. In a susprise upset the half-orc Achala leads the way, the larger Azog nearly on his heels, and merchant Salus a close third. Teppus, Gragnar and the otehr racers follow in a close pack, while the slow but steady Timmens brings up the rear.
Achala is surprisingly light on his feet -- must by the human-half being used to running away from his orc-half. Keg sloshing on his shoulder as he shifts it from side to side, trying to balance himself as best he can as he runs. Go go go!
Azog takes his time in viewing the terrain before making his decisions and planning his route, so he's slower to start, and takes longer at obstacles, but he is a natural rider, and skilled. Though hailing from the Tablelands far to the north, he has a good sense for the lay of the local land, it seems, and is soon challenging for the lead.
Gragnar's start wasn't as fast as the orc'd like, and he missed the deer path and bridge entirely, but his harness pays off at the fallen log, freeing his hands to help him vault easily and surprisingly gracefully over the log, nostrils flaring as his eyes lock on the back of the horse in front of him, arms and legs pumping vigorously.
You paged Azog with 'Roll of Perception, and ride, please. :)'
GAME: Azog rolls perception: (3)+0: 3 to mikilos
GAME: Azog rolls ride: (13)+10: 23 to mikilos
You paged Teppus with 'Rolls of Perception, and Ride to me, if you please. :)'
You paged Gragnar with 'If you please, a Climb roll and another Dexterity check.'
GAME: Gragnar rolls climb: (4)+4: 8 to mikilos
GAME: Gragnar rolls dexterity: (2)+3: 5 to mikilos
You paged Achala with 'If you please, a Climb roll and another Dexterity check.'
GAME: Achala rolls climb: (10)+10: 20 to mikilos GAME: Achala rolls dexterity: (1)+4: 5 to mikilos
GAME: Teppus rolls perception: (5)+4: 9 to Mikilos GAME: Teppus rolls ride: (19)+-4: 15 to Mikilos TEppus, of course, is getting ready. He's on a horse. He's on a god damn horse.
Okay, so. It isn't exactly like he's a very *good* ride. This is sort of obvious. Especially when he starts saying, "Ow, ow wo.."
Seeing Azog lag behind a bit, Divada stands up and yellls! 'Come on AZOG! YOU CAN DO IT!"
<<Azog's low Perception roll implies big loss, but high total needs explination to end well. Achala also get high totals, but very low on Rutted path implies a fall, implies to be further back.>> <<Second Merchant, Burons, was invented to get lost, meet with following wagons on way up, and provided bit of entertainment. As most players were Racers, mostly abandon this NPC was would have added little.>>
The path climbs the side of the mountain, trees giving way to scrub and brush, and soon to rock. A long slope to broken shale, to be specific. Though a horse or wagon must zig zag their way up the winding path, one on foot could, with a bit of effort, climb straight up the way. A climb the swift footed Achala makes with ease, the more solid Gragnar causeing a few small rockslides as he follows with difficulity. Brewmaster Timmens makes up lost ground, his steady pace eating up the distance without a misstep, while once leading Azog rides off the path and gets himself into danger on the loose rock. The 'mistake' ends well enough, the orc forgeing up the slope to the cut of the path ahead, managing to both keep his keg from toppeling, and his horse from injury.
Further up the way, the path follows beside a small steam made by the melting snow, which still hides in the shadows of rock and crags. More accuratly, the path was once beside the steam, but recent melt has cut into the roadway, leaving numerous ruts cutting across the path. Dangerous ruts, as Teppus finds, his horse slipping and bruising it's leg. Though not broken, the rest of the way will be slow going at best. The Merchant Salus takes a daring risk, urging his mount into a fast trot up the way, and by minor miricale takes a short lead, breaking neither his own neck nor his horses leg.
The path is hardly safe to mere foot travelers, mind you, for while swift footed Achala speeds up the way, a thin layer of mud hides a layer of melting ice, and a brief slide sends the half-orc sprawling. The larger Gragnar fares little better, a loose rock beneath his foot leading to a wild stumble and a knock against the gorge wall. While the orc managers to keep his footing, the near fall knocks his keg against the rock wall, splitting the lid, though not spilling much of the contents.
The final leg is a long bit of straight canyon, leading to the miners camp at the end. A simple enough straight away, or wolud be, if not for the melting snow and ice. While the main pack enters the base of the run, newcommer Azog is already dodging around patches of ice halfway up. But, the slightly more experienced merchant Salus holds his lead, riding into the camp several lengths ahead, to a gratcheer from the gathered miners and workers. A cheer which is echoed, though perhaps less loud, which each fresh arriving keg.
Down near the nottom of the mountain, the larger wagon train moves out, a few forerunners surging ahead to clear branches and cut back brush to clear the way for the supply wagons.
Achala scrambles to grab his keg before it goes tumbling down the mountain. Scrabbling in the mud, he gets up, but ends up behind, soaked through, hair slicked, keg held gingerly -- like a newborn baby, really. He's just not going that fast now.
Azog urges his mount to more speed, possibly at the behest of his cheering section. He made a good job of catching up his initially slow start, but in his haste, he nearly goes tumbling down. After that, though, he guides the horse more surely, and with a bit of skillful navigation, he's making his way up to the camp, following after the merchant with a grim determination.
<OOC> Mikilos says, "To be clear, Merchant Salus takes first, with Azog a close second. Achala in third by a fair lead. Brewmaster Timmens leads the main pack, with no real stragglers."
Divada, seeing Azog start to surge ahead, begins jumping on and down! "Keep it up Azog! You're doing great! WOOOOOO!" Who says Elves aren't enthusiastic? XD
Gragnar powers up the wall, succeeding as much as he does almost entirely as a function of brute force. He gets reckless as he sees Achala slip, seeing it as his chance. The sound of cracking wood brings a yrch curse from his lips, progress slowed by another split second as he turns to make sure that his keg hasn't been entirely shattered. Mikilos helps clear the path for the slow and heavy wagons, keeping one eye towards the race, but his main attention on the work. Though the wizards magics offer a great deal of assistance, physical labor is the mark of the day, with no small bit of sweat, and a touch of blood from scratching branches and sharp rocks.
The healers along the way start to gather up, glad to find no serious injuries, though numerous minor ones to keep enough from getting bored.
Once favored merchant Burans reappears, his horse and keg missing, and with a sheepish smile the man admits to trying to find a new path, only to get himself lost in the trees, and knocked off his mount by a low branch.
Teppus is definitely a straggler. "Augh! Hey! Come on, you blasted thing! Hurry up!" And then it goes too fast. "Ahhh... dammit!" Yes. He is not a fast or even skilled rider. Achala offers up his keg, sweaty and muddy and tired. He submits to attention for his scrapes from the fall, tolerant more than anything. Azog will set his keg down wherever they're collecting them, once he crosses the line, and then check to see if anyone needs assistance. But it seems everyone's more or less okay, and so he dismounts and lets his horse cool down for a bit, leading it for a few minutes before stopping and checking its ankles and legs, making sure his own almost-miscue hasn't caused any harm. The miner's camp quickly breaks into a party mode, with fresh kegs opened and a mug of brew offered to anyone standing upright. Brewmaster Timmens, the Merchant Salus, and the Louis foreman duck into a cabin to hammer out contracts for the comming season. Many toasts are offered to each of the racers, and all registration fees are returned, for even a cracked keg can still be drunk.
A few more serious individuals take to careing for the horses, and offering simple accomidations to any who care to stay the night. Fresh food will be prepared once the supply wagons finish the trip up.
Gragnar turns to those gathering the kegs, carefully removing the harness from his back, then the keg from the harness before turning it over. He nods his acknowledgement and strolls over to Achala, first amongst the foot-runners. He gives him a hearty slap on the shoulder, the sort of boisterous swing that might cause a smaller man to stumble, however briefly. The oruch then shoots him a grin and a thumbs up before turning to head off to congratulate the winner personally. As the party starts, a grin splits the monk's face again, and he lets out hearty, boisterous laughter, liking these people already. Achala whacks Gragnar back, nodding to him. Luckily, he's got enough oruch in him not to even totter, sadly. Azog will accept a beer, cheering to the racers, and the clapping people on the back, but he's not really boisterous or a quaffer. He wasn't planning on staying, though he'll participate in the festivities, and definitely the food. "Good running, yeah?" he says in accented Tradespeak. "A close race."
Divada makes her way down to the finish line and lightly whaps Azog on the shoulder. "Toldja you could do it."
Really, Teppus is helping to bring up the rear. He's not quite dead last.
Quite. But that's okay. He's still in the back and he's not looking too thrilled about this.
Gragnar's quickly in his element, helping serve the beer from his broken keg, using the mugs brought near him to scoop out sloshing flagon-fulls of the amber liquid, raising his own to give a cry of "To Victory!" in his heavily accented tradespeak. On seeing Teppus, he grabs an unattended flagon, filling it to the brim and carrying it over to the annoyed rider. "Come on. We may not 'ave won, but dat ain't no reason to deprive the victors of deir celebratin'. Nor us!" He slaps him on the shoulder and shoves the flagon into his hand, before moving back to the main group.
FA-WOOSH!
With a burst of magical fire, the last of the ice is cleared away from the gorge, and a please Mikilos helps clear away some of the alrger now warm rocks. Perhaps not the best or safest use of magic, but none can deny it is quick.
With the path now clear, the supply wagons are able to enter the camp, and foodstuffs are quickly distributed, with roasts and steaks heading to prepared grills, and breads baked this morning handed out to miners thankful for something other then hardtack and bean soup.
And the last of the supply wagons make their way up, a smaller, but perhaps more important set of wagons begin their own trip. Fresh mithril ore, stockpiled over the winter, and now headed down to the city for processing. Not a huge amount, compared to the full quanities of the city, but a fair boost of raw materials to gear the industry up for the spring.
Azog looks over to Divada, and gives her a puzzled look. "Did you? I never thought that I would fail. It was a good race, but the other merchant knew the route already, I think, and was a good rider." He shrugs. "Still, I did well, and my honor is satisfied." He looks around at the other celebrants, but it seems the merchants are all closeted away. Just as well, perhaps. He sips his beer from a provided mug and toasts all the participants. "Anyone who makes it here to drink free beer has won!" And then, the food. He'll partake of that. Definitely lots of partaking.
Aaand Teppus there in the rar! He makes his way up and then pants. "Damn right," he tells the fellow with the flagon, grinning. "Thanks." And with that, he'll imbibe. Greatly. After all, that was the point. Mikilos makes his way around the gathered, offering congratulations to the racers and warm greeting to the miners. The wizard take particular intrest in the outbound wagons, making sure the drivers have everything they could need for the trip. The elf takes none of the food, but accepts a mug of ale, though he does a great deal more carrying then drinking it. Achala grabs a flagon himself, mud-be-damned, and heads over to join in in the fun. "To victory! Well-earned it was!"
Grabbing her own ale, Divada chugs it as well....letting some dribble down her cheeks.
Gragnar laughs, and sits amongst the merry-makers, shoving flagons into empty hands along the way. At the chugging elf, he laughs loudly, sharing another of his over-enthusiastic back pats, though perhaps her gender, perhaps her race, or perhaps just her small frame earns her a slightly lightened version. "Now dat's da spirit!" he bellows good-naturedly, and smiles over to his fellow oruch. "A fine woman you've found, friend," he says in Yrch-speak, flavored only by the pleasant buzz in his head, brought on by the merry-making.
Divada stumbles forward a couple of steps before refilling her tankard. She turns her ear towards Gragnar's comment, and the one after it. "It's a time for celebration, is it not?" She then switches to Yrch-speak, 'Especially among friends and comrades', which she seems to speak fluently.
Azog peers sidelong at Divada's drinking style. "Are you drunk already?" he wonders in Tradespeak. That would explain the cheering, at least. He laughs at Gragnar's assumption, but shakes his head, replying in Yrch, "I do not understand the ways of elves. Perhaps she recognizes power?" He eats a fair amount, but drinks moderately, not attempting to get drunk, though he doesn't shy away from it. Achala gets food. A lot of it. After all, he just ran up a damned mountain. Tearing into it, he grins at Azog. "Or just likes 'em big." He shrugs. "People'll take all types."
Mikilos hehs softly, leaving the miners and such to their own ways, and choosing to join his fellow adventurers. "Well, there's power, and there's power. Not all of it comes from strength of the arm." At the reply from the elf, Gragnar laughs, a deep belly laugh, the oruch well suited to it. "Even the puny ones," he teases Divada at Achala's comment, staying in his native tongue since most of the immediate group appears to speak it.
Looking to Azog, Divada smiles a bit more. "Partly, I think." She says with a giggle. "And mikilos is right. There are different sorts of power. Though I cheer for friends anyways!" She says before gulping down another tankard. This is not the Divada Azog has seen before.
Azog snorts at Achala's comment, but who can say? Divada is definitely acting strange, but who is he to say? He won't tell her how to live her life. He nods to Mikilos, "This is true. There are all kinds of power. But I don't have any other kind, but strength of arm and purity of purpose. Arcane arts, channeling the power of deities? My power is my own, and I like it that way." Divada has disconnected. Achala grins at Azog, saluting him with his flagon. He goes back to his food. Mikilos nods to Azog. "There's the raw power of the arm, and the skill to use it well. As well as the wisdom of what to use it upon. Each is it's own sort of power." Gragnar nods with approval to Azog, and then pushes to his feet. "Who wants ta arm wrastle," he challenges in tradespeak as he walks to the general group, arms raised to show their strength as he tries to drag more into his merry-making. At some point, he's likely to break something. Hopefully it'll be inanimate.
Gragnar has left. Azog will take Gragnar's challenge, and anyone else who wants to arm wrestle. Raw power of arm, indeed! He chats with Mikilos about the kinds of power, and agrees, "There are different degrees and such to everything. It's a wonder anyone can keep things straight." Mikilos chuckles. "In truth, many don't." The elf has little intest in such bouts of physical power, knowing well his talents lie elsewhere. And there was much eating of free food and drinking of free drink. And Azog did a lot of this. He doesn't try to keep things straight, either. Azog has left. Achala eventually eats and drinks himself into oblivion, hopefully wakes up in Alexandria. Achala has left.