TS - Day 04 - Arthenas.

[Kalamos]

A Good Night's Rest

Active Characters:
- Rilina
- Tanandra

Inactive Characters:
- Draco


You spend the rest of the night sleeping peacefully, in relative comfort.

From your room's orientation, you can't see daylight yet, but you can smell the aroma of cooking from the floor below, and hear the distant ding and voices of the waking town.



Imprisoned!

Inactive Characters:
- Castorp
- Luna, Phenagon and Tolpoff.


You spent your night in a dingy cell, fighting off despair, lice, and an overfriendly jail inmate.

You have been stripped of your possessions; with nothing more than rags, you've been thrown to prison, without so much as a word. Gods know when you'll see sunlight again.

Oh no, you can feel something slowly creeping toward you: slimy, grubby hands pawning you in the dark...

Somebody please make it stop! Let me out! Please!

 

[Kalamos]

Started Day 04.

 

[xtxlx]

Morning

Tandy woke early to fetch the clothes she had arranged for Rilina. A simple shirt, trousers, boots... nothing particularly noticeable, although the shirt had buttons. Tandy liked unbuttoning her guests. It amused her, and never failed to make a victim feel especially helpless.

Now being that Rilina was a young lady of virtue... (Tandy briefly smiled at the thought... from what she had seen circumstances were wiping away any stray bits of innocence left on the apothecary) it was of course necessary to protect her virtue with a protective belt. It was a leather lined with sufficient metal within to keep any unseemly sort from merely cutting it off. A lock was attached for keeping it neatly in place. Any young lady of virtue and good breeding would be expected to wear such a thing - the world was a dangerous place and some things were to be protected.

Of course Tandy had made some adjustments to this belt. A rare concoction had been applied to the inner lining so that it would begin to tease the occupant after it had been worn for an hour or two. She found having her guests wear such a device made them much more pliable. And while the tingling stimulation would never actually satisfy, it certainly made a tickling session ever so much more interesting.

She knocked on Rilina's door. "Miss Rilina? I have your clothes here, and we really should get going... the sooner we're off the sooner we'll have you back to Bisanthium."

Or to be more honest, Tandy thought, the sooner we can get started making you squirm.

 

[ticklishrilina1]

Aaah...it is amazing what a good night's sleep and a bath can do for a poor, kidnapped, ticklish girl. Rilina rises enthusiastically renergized, and ready to get back and rebuild her poor shop.

She sighs a little bit, wondering just how she is going to pay for that little rennovation. There is one thing to be envied, she muses, in the life of a slave; they don't have to pay anything.

Rilina smiles and nods as she moves out to take the clothes, and then sneak back in to privacy to change. She gives the chastity belt an unusual glance, about to discard it (only the nobility wear such things)...and then she remembers the days events.

Hostage in a bar.
Kidnapped from the streets.
Sold in to slavery in her own house.
Tortured by guards.
Bought by mortal enemy.

With those thoughts in mind she securely locks the belt on, assuming Tandy has the key, and finishes getting dressed.

 

[ticklishrilina1]

((OOC: Sorry it took me so long to post again, crazy hollidays 🙂))

 

[tukano_2]

Could his fate be more cruel than that? Just a few days ago he was singing and playing in the arms of a beautiful, wealthy, scantily dressed country matron, exquisite food and wine at his disposal, his lively little pet Tolpoff barking at his booted feet, and sniffing and licking her bare feet, making her giggle nicely, the only thing to watch out for, her jealous husband getting back home too early from his business trip... Could something closer to heaven possibly exist?

... and could something possibly be closer to hell than being in that cold, dump, grubby, dark cell, wearing only a stinking piece of leather around his modesties, with insects of some kind he could not see since it was too dark, making awful noises he never heard before, running all around the place, often on his bare skin and even up his legs under the only piece of clothes he was wearing...

Castorp didn't have the chance to take a better look at what was already in the cell as he was brought in... well, thrown in the room and the door was slammed, bringing almost total darkness fall in the place, only a few pale "stains" of light coming from somewhere above, but for sure he had a cell mate, he could hear his grunts and occasional chuckles... and Castorp's hair was still platin blond... he only hoped the man there could not see in the darkness more than he could...

Oh Gods! Why that to me? Could I at least hear the dear molesting barks of my little Tolpoff... Where could he be now?

(OOC:
Merry Christmas anyone!
)

 

[xtxlx]

Placing the key to the leather belt on her keyring, Tandy escorts the tickly apothecary to her waiting carriage.

Letting Rilina take her seat, she took a moment to consider how very comfortable and normal the interior looked. Those metal hooks securely bolted to the ceiling above where Rilina was, well they were for clothes hangars no doubt. Very convenient, and certainly not for chaining the wrists of a tickly guest.

"Now Miss Rilina, I suppose we'll be together the next day or so heading back to Bisanthium so we should get all the little details settled. I'll need to write a report about your kidnapping and any details you could provide would be very helpful. Let me just get a quill and parchment..."

Tandy reached into a small drawer. Pushing aside the leather handcuffs, she took out a feather quill and paper and began to take notes.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the girl to start fidgeting from the belt. They all did. Then the poor dear would just have to be restrained for her own good. And if it was just a bit of post-trauma nerves... well Tandy had ways to tire a girl out.

The carriage worked its' way out of Arthenas and onto the long road to Bisanthium.

 

[Kalamos]

It will take about 8 hours to reach Bisanthium by carriage.
Phenagon's cart left Bisanthium before noon and arrived in Arthenas at sundown.

Assuming you left right after breakfast, and you travel as slowly as Phenagon, you'll be in Bisanthium before supper-time. By dinner, if you stop mid-way to have lunch.

As a rough estimate about Tharagyan countryside: roads are paved, but currently unkept, so they are *fairly* fast to travel on, except in bad weather.
You can easily cover more than 20 miles in 8 hours. Maybe 30 riding a fast horse.

The way is dotted with farms, gentry's villas, hamlets and of course cauponas, that is: inns.

You might pass between 5 to 10 such settlements: they are built considering the slower speed of foot-travel, so they aren't placed too far apart.

Bandits and rebels are rare, but *not* unheard of. Keep in mind the borders are undermanned, and most able-bodied maxiamoreans are fighting for the Galthari factions.

So you might run into travellers, maybe pilgrims - the populance of the easternmost regions of the empire is especially pious - and sometimes into soldier: off-duty veterans, marching troops or even fighters turned rogue.

 

[xtxlx]

(ooc... I suspect Rilina will be too busy laughing to eat. Food was brought though, so I suppose I could feed her during a break. The carriage will be going at a fairly leisurely pace, although if there was a need to outrun someone it could be possible if they were on foot. The driver is armed of course, although if bandits attack the carriage, well, that's just mean of you Kalamos. (g)

So I suppose we will arrive in the late afternoon then.)

 

[Kalamos]

Mean? Definitely. That's why we asked and got a subforum for. 😉

 

[Hue]

Draco felt rested after catching a few hours of sleep. The breakfast that was being cooked downstairs smelled wonderful. Draco climbed down from his ceiling pertch, looked around the room to make sure that he had everything and that nothing was damaged, left the room, headed downstairs, stopped by the foyer table to collect his weapons, and went into the dining room/kitchen area to eat some breakfast.

"Good morning all," Draco said as he entered the room, "How is everyone today?"

(OOC: Kalamos now takes over with his characters)

 

[ticklishrilina1]

Rilina just smiles as she lets herself settle down in to the seat in the carriage; she doesn't even note the metal hooks, and would certainly assume them for clothes.

"I was visiting a tavern after my shop closed to have glass of tea and unwind, when I was abducted and brought up to the front of the tavern to be /tickled/..." Rilina begins with a sigh.

Rilina begins weaving her sad, sordid, tickly tale (all of which can be found in the original rp thread 🙂, and then begins to notice a little tingling...down there. Born and bred to such sensitivity, it kicks in much sooner in her than it would in most. She begins squirming and adjusting her seat just about once every two minutes.

She gives a little bit of a flushed smile to tandy as she fidgets. "Just can't seem to get comfy.." she giggles girlishly. Uh oh.

 

[Kalamos]

Leaving Arthenas.

Tanandra and Rilina left Arthenas.
Actions continue on Day 04 - Tharagyan Peninsula.

-> http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=14546

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - A Dingy Cell.

A Fateful Encounter.

Active Character:
- Castorp.


You quickly lose the perception of time. Hours pass by, and you can't help wondering how long they'll leave you here.

You try and dismiss the horrible notion they might forget about you: they've thrown you here, and left you to rot.

You've heard and retold countless piteous tales about poor, forgotten prisoners.
Who'd have expected you would end up an "oubliette" yourself...


It must be dawn... or dusk: your stomach is grumbling and you see a faint, reddish glow, somewhere behind you.

You turn, leaning against the cold, damp wall, hoping to see the welcome silhouette of a jailkeeper.

In sheer horror, you realize the glow comes from your inmate's eyes. His sockets are pulsating in the dark, alight with eldricht energies.

"You... have... it..." it croaks, raising a clawy, gnarled hand.

"N-no..." you stutter, flailing your arms "Leave me alone!"

His bent shape grows closer.

"No! Don't touch me! NO!!!"


Will Castorp fight the inmate off?
Or will Castorp let the inmate touch him?

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - Goradus's Villa.

Tharagyan Delicacies.

Active Character:
- Draco.


An Ankyra silently bows to Draco. She bears a resemblance to the servant Draco spied the last night, but her complexion is darker and her hair jet black.

She welcomes Draco to a well lit, large dining room, with frescoed walls.
The room has two exits: the frameless entry doorway, and a smaller passage on the side, leading to a terrace, or a porch.

Luckily, furniture is placed in Bisanthi fashion; no Morean uncomfortable reclining chairs in sight.

The warrior checks the buffet suspiciously: fowl, eggs, olives, an assorted array of gravies and sauces, and pitas as sliced bread.

Experience taught Draco to never completely trust strangers - especially overly generous ones.

He turns to the ankyra only to discover she is nowhere to be found.
She reappers a moment after, bringing in a clay jug.

The dark haired servant avoids Draco's gaze, and she leaves without a word.
The jug bears a colourful decoration, portraying a scene of combat between men and a wyrm-like creature.

It contains a white, fragrant liquid. Goat milk, probably.
While it tastes salty to people accostumed to cow milk, it doesn't seem spoiled or - worse - poisoned.

Draco grabs a decorated plate, and carefully takes a couple choice bits.
Outside, he can hear grunts and the ding of clashing arms.


What next?
Have breakfast, or check the commotion and peer outside?

 

[Hue]

Peering Outside!

Since Draco didn't trust humans at all, and not knowing if there was poison mixed in with breakfast, Draco decided to peer outside to see what was the commotion. Draco's curiosity got the better of him, but will his curiosity seal his doom or will it benefit Draco? Draco faced the outside, stared at the commotion with no expression cause he was not sure how to react to what he saw.

 

[tukano_2]

...
"You... have... it..." it croaks, raising a clawy, gnarled hand.

"N-no..." you stutter, flailing your arms "Leave me alone!"

His bent shape grows closer.

"No! Don't touch me! NO!!!"
...

Castorp was too shocked to wonder why the unrecognizable being in the dark said "you have it"... He was just too busy trying to get far from it! Too bad there was not much room...

Even if he was in panic, his instinct of self preservation suggested him to use everything he could to get out of the disquieting situation.
He simply used the only thing he still possessed that could fascinate people and, much to his experience, had been quite effective in the past: his voice.

Castorp started to sing in a very trembling voice, an old popular song, used to calm ill people's pains. Gradually he became more self confident and sang louder and with a clearer voice, still keeping that calming, soft tone... it was certainly better to keep his "mate" relaxed, what/whoever it was...

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - Goradus's Villa.

The Clang of Arms.

Active Character:
- Draco.


"Pugna!"

The ding of metal; grunts, cursing, sweaty bodies, flashing weapons.

Two large, fat men are duelling, just below the terrace, inside what looks like a private combat-ground.

"No, not there! Your guard!"
A balding, battle-scarred man keeps encouraging the fighters.

"Hold your shield like this! It is no parasol, mentula!"
The trainer pokes the taller man with his stick.
"Pah! You wouldn't survive a day in the Arena!"

"So, how are my latest purchases faring like?"
Goradus leans from a nearby doorway.

The man looks up, gesturing to the slaves.
"They are undisciplined, but I'll break their spirit."
He grins evilly.

"They'll grow to be fine warriors."
Goradus nods, smiling to himself.
"They just need a suitable prod."

The fighting men stop; their ornamental trappings shine in the morning sun.
Their high crested helms wave in the brisk air.

Goradus turns to you, pointing to the armed men.
"Would you like to show them?"


Will Draco join the Gladiators in Goradus's Arena?
See Background History - Tharagyan Peninsula - Characters, for details.

->http://www.tickletheater.com/showpost.php?p=95943&postcount=3
->http://www.tickletheater.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=29353

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - A Dingy Cell.

Sweet Lullaby.

Active Character:
- Castorp.


You try and concentrate on singing: just remember the words... don't let your voice falter... just sing on.

The inmate stops his hands an inch from your face, his unsettling glowing eyes blink twice, in disbelief.

You can smell his fetid breath from here; you cringe from it, hoping your song will calm him somehow.

Music could calm wild beasts, you reason... oh gods, just keep this... thing at bay!

He... it... backs away, as you keep singing, hissing.

Yes... you made it... oh, thanks gods!

"Stop it!" he growls, lunging at you. "No time for this!"

Help!

He grabs your wrists; for a brief moment his eyes flash brighter, like embers.

"You must listen!" his claws are painfully carving their way into your flesh.
"Before they come back!"


Will Castorp stop and listen to the inmate?

 

[Hue]

An evil smile appears on Draco's face.

"But of course," Draco replied as he walks to the arena, "My pleasure."

Walking past the trainer, and the slaves, Draco steps into the center of the arena.

"Allow me to demostrate my art of warfare," Draco stated with a huge grin on his face.


Action Interrupted.

I checked: I can't find this power in your character sheet.

-> http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?p=80411&highlight=hue's#post80411

Please, post a revised character sheet, detailing your powers, for review.


Action Resumed.

"Please note my clone, same size, same skills, same height, and same weapons at his disposal."

Draco cloned himself as he did (or tried to do in his room), and chuckled at the startled look on the humans faces.

"I will do this slowly for you to get the general idea," Draco said pointing at the two gladiators who were trying to duel, "Just watch and enjoy the show."

With that said, Draco and Clone Draco took their fighter's stance. Battle Axes glistened in the sunlight, the courtyard was fillled with the clashs and clangs of steel on steel as Draco and his clone battled. The reason Draco cloned himself was that he knew none of the humans could withstand the force of Draco's blows, even at 1% use of his full abilities/power. After a few minutes, Draco and his clone stopped. Draco turned to the trainer and asked, "Is that what you had in mind?"

(OOC: all you now Kalamos. Hope it wasn't too much to swallow.)

 

[tukano_2]

...
"Stop it!" he growls, lunging at you. "No time for this!"

Help!

He grabs your wrists; for a brief moment his eyes flash brighter, like embers.

"You must listen!" his claws are painfully carving their way into your flesh.
"Before they come back!"
...

(OOC: is it annoying if I quote the last lines of the previous action? I just think it helps keeping actions correlated. If it annoying, I will just stop doing that.)

Castorp almost collapsed when his wrists were firmly grabbed by those "claws"... but, even if confused by fear, some part of his brain caught the sense of what that mysterious man (? ...) in the dark was telling him: before they come back?!? Who? The guards?

At least the guy was more interested in speaking to him (you must listen!...), instead of doing things to him... So he relaxed a bit, and after a while found the courage to ask: "W..wwhat do you want from me?... Listen, I've no money with me... this medallion is practically worthless... It's just a thing of my family...". In the meantime, Castorp was trying to have a better view of the guy who was squeezing his wrists...

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - Goradus's Villa.

The Touch of Magic.

Draco could feel his outer Simulacra sundering and coalescing beside him.

While Raptor was capable of binding the human mind to do his biddings, Draco had learnt to shape his own Simulacra, and create a copy of himself, or merge with the background.

It was more than just an illusion, but it wasn't really a complete copy. People only perceived it to be. And, as a part of the trick, Draco never revealed the nature of his power.


"Impressive."
Goradus applauds softly.
"That was most impressive."

The trainmaster pokes the felled gladiators mercilessly.
"Stand up, you dolts! No time for a nap!"

One of them, manages to rise up, barely.
"That no fair, Dominus!" he croaks "He be magus!"

"Hoc!" coughs the other, removing his badly battered helm.
"He used a... spell."

"Nonsense!" spits the trainer, wrathfully.
"No such thing as Magia! Tall tale. Fable!"

"You got beaten by a man in a gown!"
The man starts kicking the gladiators in the ribs, prompting them to resume fighting.
"Stand up, you maggots!"

Goradus invites Draco out of the Arena.



A Well Furnished Office.

"It was an outstanding performance."
Muses Acathos leading Draco back to his office.

"I must presume your brother is capable of the same feat."
Dracos nods, grudgingly.
No need to reveal mere humans any sensible details.
No more than really necessary, at least.

"Where are you from, Dominus... Draco?"
Goradus pours himself a cup of watered-down wine.

"I can't quite place your attire and accent".
The Magister takes a sip.
How odd, the large skullbone on the dais... it did... twitch? Nah...

"I heard those savages from Aygyros can sometimes turn themselves into wild beasts."
Acathos stares down at his drink, letting it rest a bit in the cup.

"Lovable wine."

Goradus raises his eyes, meeting Draco's gaze.
"I am forgetting my manners!"

He stands, clapping his hands loudly.

"Would like some wine? Oh, my bad... it must be against your religious tenets."

The dark haired ankyra steps by, silently.

"My pet, bring our guest some..."

Goradus stares back at Draco, quizzically.
"Mmm... would you like anything to drink?"

 

[Kalamos]

Arthenas - A Dingy Cell.

A Worthless Heirloom.

The figure releases his grasp, gnawing in the near darkness, with its clawlike hands.

"That... not... worthless... heirloom." he... it... hisses.

Its fishy hands rake Castorp's chest, sending shivers down his spine.

"Where... it?"

Castorp tries to keep himself from gagging: the thing's fetid breath is making him sick.

The misshapen figure keeps grazing the bard's neck.
Castorp manages to shove the thing off, feeling his chest for cuts.

Goodness, he realizes, touching his own neck, the medallion is gone!
The vigiles probably got it, when they were stripping him!

"Where...?" the figure's glowing eyes flicker.

"WHERE?"

 

[tukano_2]

Now that the "man" was so unpleasantly, malodorously close to him, Castorp could get a better view of his face... Not that he was longing to... But it was better to know who's putting his clawed, beastly strong hands on you in a dark, dirty, stinky cell...

But the thought of his beloved medallion disappeared, let him regain his rational capabilities. Could it have been stolen? Well, some street cheap frippery sellers offered some coins for it, but he doubted the medallion could tempt someone at the point of stealing. Was it lost somewhere along their journey or during the arrest? It would be lost forever then! Who could find it out there?

First Tolpoff, now that... He felt so bad, he almost wanted to cry 🙁

(OOC: has Castorp still his Klawdia?)

 

[Kalamos]

Castorp has been stripped by guards. His stuff is locked somewhere.
The only very faint light comes from the eery glowing eyes of the long-time prisoner.
Good luck discerning his features in near darkness. 😉

I'll post a following action soon.