Chapter 1

Play by Post Campaigns Ars Magica 5th Edition: Ragnarok
61

As the group takes up their defensive posture and Osbertus does his best to sneak around for a better vantage point, one of the soldiers tending to their injured fellow happens to glance up and catch him!

"Daha çox işğalçılar! Silahlarını buraxın və təslim ol!" they shout, brandishing their weapon in your direction - though those schooled in arms (any training in a weapon skill) can tell that this action is NOT meant to strike you.

Osbertus translates in Latin: “More intruders! Put down your arms and surrender!”

Yet.

The outcry summons the attention of the rest of the group, and you have all been seen.

How do you react?

62

Sceparnius is only carrying a wooden staff. Although he'd rather not lose it, he has no qualms about putting it down if it defuses this situation. He drops his staff and stands, warily, with his hands raised up about shoulder height.

Should the situation turn to combat he will cast Trap of the Entwining Vines at the center of the group of soldiers, but he would prefer to see this resolve peacefully.

63

Aureliana similarly raises her hands, murmuring in German, “Be calm, be calm...”

64

[center]Jadranka ex Verditius[/center]

Jadranka stands there a bit wide-eyed and slack-jawed, their presence having been discovered and the weapons of the soldiers turned in their direction. She never carried a weapon on her, having been taught that reliance upon mundane means was a sign of weakness. But that didn't mean she was going to do anything rash; she raised her hands in the air, as a sign of surrender, hoping that the soldiers wouldn't take out whatever anger they had on the group of magi. However, in the event that something was going to go wrong, she cycled through her known spells in her mind, bringing one of them to the forefront to use in case she needed it.

[hr][/hr]
Jadranka isn't resisting and she's all but surrendering. However, if stuff goes south, her first reaction will be to cast Hands of the Grasping Earth to at least keep one of the soldiers from advancing.

65

[[Osbertus tries to make sense of how to adjust his Latin to make it more understandable to them; Latin + Int roll of 11 on discord.]]

Osbertus is unarmed, he raises his hands non-threateningly, and speaks calmly in Latin.

"We are not intruders. We are visitors. May we speak to your commander?"

[[His plan in case of combat is the masterful tactic of shouting the dirtiest latin insult he knows, scuttling back into the tower and using Scent of Peaceful Slumber on anyone hostile who follows him in.]]

66

Marcella sheathes her sword, and tries her Latin: "We mean no harm. " (rolls a 7 on discord Int+Latin = 12). "Such noble warriors such as yourselves must be led by a mighty centurion. Who is it?" rolls a total of 13. (Her Aura of Ennobled Presense mitigates the Gift penalties, leaving an even roll) "We would speak to him."

67

Thierry was coming to, but slowly.

He had had no idea what to expect arriving at the fort. It had looked fascinating but dilapidated, something that seemed interesting at first sight, as Thierry looved old architecture. His interest turned to fascination when, out of a whim, he made sure to look around for magical presence and found a powerful aura, centered around the tower. So, driven by his natural curiosity and Kermario, he entered the tower. It looked just like everything else in the fort: enormous amount of architectural knowledge and physical labor went into the construction, but it fell into disrepair, understandably.
Discovering the regio was the next shock. He kind of expected something along these lines, considering how strong the aura felt, but it was a shock none the less.
Driven by curiosity, he quickly tried to compose himself and step sideways, into the realm fueled by magic.

Whatever happened afterwards was blurry.

Now, as he was coming to his senses, he was lying on the ground, face in the dust. Turning his glance sideways resulted in a flash of pain at the back of his head.
He saw a strange diorama, frozen in time: a squad of Roman soldiers, one of whom was looking over Thierry, another injured, two looking after his wounds, and a group of people that were...emanating a surprisingly similar vibe to his parens. Their posture, their focus. What were they doing here? The soldiers, speaking from their body language, were obviously threatening them, while the others...intruders, maybe, were trying to pacify the situation.

He was trying to speak, but his throat was dry, so when he breathed in, he started coughing.

68

Oktavia can’t quite put on the same show of surrender as everyone else (if she raises her hands she’ll fall over), but hopes she looks pathetic enough to be non-threatening as is; striving to let the universal language of the body convey how harmless she is, she shrinks down as much as her crutches will allow and, after some careful positioning of her body weight to offset one of her hands leaving its crutch, she holds onto Elisabeth protectively. If she can’t contribute much directly, she’ll at least do as little as possible to worry these creatures.

She wishes she’d remember to cast her go-to illusion spell, but figures it’d slip her mind once anything stressful actually happened... Oktavia can’t help but think for a moment of all the times her parens had mocked her and called her stupid. So soon into her magical career, she’s already proving her right. If she even could without losing her balance and toppling over, Oktavia might kick herself.

69

After your overtures of peace and surrender, the lead soldier cocks their head; for a moment, you can hear a strange grinding sound, then it speaks again, but this time in crystal-clear academic Latin.

"Our master will be glad to see you. Be careful; the enemy is around every corner." It motions to the others, who nod and form up around your group in a defensive formation. "They can strike at any time."

Assuming the team follows...

Your guides escort you through the fort. A strange sense of deja vu strikes at the familiarity of the place, even though you've only seen it in the other world once - but the same-yet-different environs catch you off guard as you move. You see several packs of soldiers, all clad in the same bluish steel, and, once, you think you glimpse a skirmish in progress, with spears and blades flashing in the sunlight. The formation takes a hard right turn, but through the commotion you see...a snake? A large snake, with...arms and weapons? You can't be sure.

Soon you reach a fortified border, with archers lining raised walls inside the perimeter. The soldiers escorting you salute to the guards, who nod and move aside to let you pass. Doors open wide, and you are brought before...

A dragon.

An honest to God dragon.

The creature stretches no fewer than seventy-five feet, coiled to fit inside the space - though the building is tall enough to allow this without undue discomfort. As you enter, its serpentine eyes light up with internal flames, and steam hisses from between its teeth. Scales the same azure shade as the soldiers' armor twinkle, iridescent in the light. It leans forward, craning over the soldiers in front of you and approaching within a pace of your group, staring.

"More, then?" croons the dragon, its voice low, sibilant and smooth. "I wonder where all these visitors are coming from."

Before you can respond, it retreats back to its original position.

"Speak before you are eaten, sons and daughters of Adam. What do you intend to do, here in my domain?"

Players Go! I will post responses to questions and conversation as they come up, so feel free to fire them off - any actual actions will wait until 24 hours, as usual!

70

--------------THIERRY-----------

Thierry was coming to, slowly, bit by bit, the picture was clearing up gradually.
That darned cat pulled me into this, again. He looked around, as much as his posture, lying face first in the dirt with a splitting headache, allowed. Kermario was nowhere to be seen. Out of sight, but not out of mind. He saw a weird diorama as he turned his head sideways: a squadron of Roman soldiers, one of them wounded, two others tending to him, the rest turning towards another group. The other party, a group of people much closer to him in age, they look young , and look, they might as well be acquainted with Roidemar....wait, is that a baby?!

Thierry tries to speak but the dust makes him cough violently. This is when he realizes that the reason part of his vision is blocked is a a huge, scaled body and feet, equipped with long, razorsharp claws. By all that is holy..where am I?.

71

Osbertus gathers his wits for half a second before his trademark grin returns and he takes a half-step forward, speaking in Latin, “We were exploring, great sir, a friendly visit. I am Osbertus, and these are my friends. This is quite a nice place you have here, are there battles often?”

[[Charm roll 14: 11 on Discord +3 for spending a Confidence point]]

Osbertus will continue the conversation, trying to invite the dragon to talk about itself and the situation/battle as much as possible. He will be careful not to lie, but also will try not to volunteer more information than he has to, at least until it’s clear whether the dragon knows it’s in a regio, how it feels about that if so, and whether it seems friendly.

72

"Osbertus. Are you the leader of this group? The dragon smiles, its lips - such as they are - stretching back to expose even more sharp teeth. "And how did you know to come here? I am in great need of your aid, as you have, undoubtedly, seen. With its tongue, the dragon points out the door you came from. "My...brother....has fallen to the Lightbringer's side. He seeks to escape this place, and I fight to stop him, with my soldiers."

73

The sight of the teeth stretches Osbertus' grin almost to the breaking point, and his speech becomes more halting.

"Not leader... but spokesman, for now..." He chuckles nervously, "What is this place, exactly? We came across its entrance exploring in the Mortal realm... We would certainly prefer that there wasn't any... ah... invasion? What can we do to help maintain the... status quo?"

74

"My brother and I remain evenly matched; for every soldier that falls, another is created, in a seemingly eternal conflict." The creature sighs, ostentatiously moving its coils, producing the sound of scales rubbing against scales, sibilant. "And his creatures do, occasionally, break through, though only in small numbers before we find them and crush the life out of them. Like all demons, however, he cannot understand things like self-sacrifice or valor, so he does not take the field himself." A smirk, and the dragon's nostrils light up for a moment. "But I do hear how concerned you are, little man. I don't know what talents you might have, but perhaps you know someone? Or have one among you? A dragonslayer, of course," he continues, seeing the confused look on faces. "Like George. Or a particularly holy man or woman? Regardless, it would not take much - a single telling blow would change the balance and allow me to wipe him out for the remainder of eternity."

75

Marcella speaks: "Are you asking us to assist you in this undertaking, so that this long stalemate is resolved?" (Marcella rolls a 5 on Per+Folk Ken, to determine if the dragon has a hidden agenda) "And you would carry the fight to your brother?" Marcella looks around the room looking for any more clues, or things of interest ( Marcella rolls Per+Awarness, with a 10).

"To consider such a task, we would need information, such as where your brother makes his home, and the fortifications there. I am not saying that we will do this thing, but I am saying that we cannot consider it without understanding how we must prepare. I will say that we do possess talents, that we more than mere interlopers."

76

Looking around the room, Marcella notices the stricken Thierry, lying in a heap and struggling to his feet. She cannot detect any sense of a lie or evasion from the dragon - he certainly seems as if he wants his brother defeated. The arms and armor are both used and impeccably maintained, possibly by magic or the simple power of this Magical Aura.

The dragon swings his head around to survey Marcella with one of his incandescent eyes.

"Even from individuals such as yourselves, with the 'talents' you claim, I ask nothing. To ask would be to admit a weakness I do not have. As long as he struggles to escape this plane, I will combat him and his creatures. If that is satisfactory to you, then you need do nothing. If it is not, then I could certainly provide the information you need when you are prepared to use it. But until then," he adds, almost as an afterthought, "I will make it known that you are allies to my people and you will be conducted to me whenever you descend into this land. Should you need instruction or have questions, you understand."

77

Stepping so he may be seen more clearly, Dair inclines his head respectfully to the group, and to the coiled wyrm. “My name is Dair, and I ask indulgence of two questions before I take leave; so we can better plan and protect our people.”
“Why is leaving so important to your brother, that he would use the infernal? And how best do the people in our care avoid him and his, until we might strike him down?”

78

"Guards? Barricades?" A deep, rolling laugh emerges from the dragon's throat - a sound that sets the hairs on your neck to standing up. "As to why he seeks escape...what does the Infernal always seek? To corrupt. To tear down. To destroy." Another chuckling laugh. "They can't help it."

79

Thierry Usceux

Through the coughing fits, Thierry recognizes that the group of people and, judging from their voice, someone huge are having a surprisingly civil conversation in Latin. His mind wanted to race, but could just focus on the person who mentioned something about being the group's "spokesman". They have gotten in here, so they must be knowing something about regiones, so probably they have something to do with magic. Worth a try.
"Hail, friends. Would you help a fellow out from distress?"

80

Thierry Usceux

Through the coughing fits, Thierry recognizes that the group of people and, judging from their voice, someone huge are having a surprisingly civil conversation in Latin. His mind wanted to race, but could just focus on the person who mentioned something about being the group's "spokesman". They have gotten in here, so they must be knowing something about regiones, so probably they have something to do with magic. Worth a try.
"Hail, sodales. Would you help a fellow out from distress?" He kneels up and tries to stand up slowly, not angering his guardian. That's when he measures up the creature next to him and, resisting the urge to put distance between them, continues, in a much shakier voice: "My name is Thierry Usceux ex Verditius and I got here by...accident, really."

He considers how he ended up here. It was only due to a nasty storm that he ended up near Dunwich, and only because of Kermario's insistence did he end up visiting the fort.Where IS that damned cat, anyway