I had intended for Barik to stomp off to the tower after the last speech. If Bishop is calling after him, then Barik ignores him. If Barik is standing there listening, then this reply is really for the others, since I've given up on Bishop...

[Barik]

"That you find me incomprehensible is no surprise, as your resolve has overwhelmed your reason. Now that you find yourself capable of anything, you are too intoxicated with the power of your own cruelty not to use it. You will rationalize anything, I see. You are wrong, Bishop, I would have broached this subject regardless of what Barrs turned out to be or to know -- we dwarves judge a man by what he chooses to do and how he does it, not on his luck in stumbling upon a happy outcome or untoward result. A fool may guess the right answer to the cleverest riddle, but he is still a fool.

"I go now to interpret, and then to bed. I agree this conversation will go no further." Looking at the loaded crossbow, "I am curious if you think shooting me in the back will get you closer to saving your family -- surely I've done nothing but get in your way so far. Or perhaps killing me in my sleep would be more efficient." I turn and walk away toward the tower.

[Barik's TB, on top of the obvious fury at Bishop for not capitulating] Indeed, nothing is exactly what I've done. Ride around on the back of other people's horses and get myself near to killed by dumb cats and witless orcs. Find myself a decent army and then watch them all get cooked. Moradin, what are you telling me? I may be older than this lot, but I'm too young to hang up my axe! Forge of the Maker! Lately, I can't fight, I can't climb, I can't sneak up to a wax-eared orc...I can't even convince this hot-tempered boy not to let his rage consume him. `Incomprehensible?!' If I can't even offer the modest wisdom of my age to such a child, then what good am I, anyway?

[Bob's TB] Barik's very frustrated with himself (and the way the conversation has gone), and has no concern for his self-preservation. If Bishop did shoot a bolt his way, either out of anger or just to shake him up, Barik wouldn't necessarily notice unless and until it actually hit him. That said, if Bishop really does want to get in a fight, Barik might be mad enough to accommodate him (and, from Barik's perspective, it proves his point).

Barik isn't going to take any particular precautions when he goes to sleep tonight. :)

Alonzo might have other questions for the orcs -- Barik will help him with interpreting until he's done. Anyway, after the interrogation, Barik is going to ask Alonzo if he can borrow Emeralda tomorrow morning (to go down in the canyon and look for Spade.) Then he'll make the most desultory of checks to see that some sort of night watch is in place, and find some place to bed down.

After the first real sleep he's had since before he appeared in the story, he'll try to get up early to look for Spade and do his divine whatever-you-call-it to get his spell du jour -- don't have a PH with me, so my options are limited...let's say Animal Messenger again. (I'd like Nature's Ally, but another message needs to be sent to Argunn Lode, and sending it on a later day is probably more risky.) Barik won't cast it right away -- might as well wait until we figure out how to proceed, see what Kray and Grell bring back, etc.
posted by Scholeologist at 12/27/2003 03:29:00 AM

"So, Alonzo, you want me to tell them you're going to eat them?"
posted by Scholeologist at 12/26/2003 03:43:00 PM

"Indeed. And _has_ torturing Barrs shaved a day off our journey? I think we can agree that you can skin him and lick the blade all you want, and he still won't know which direction to point us in. Did something in his life story, or the philosophies of Hextor, give you valuable information about how to defeat our foe? Idiot." I spit on the ground and glare at Bishop.

"`If torturing Barrs gets us one inch closer, I'll skin him alive and lick the blade clean.' You know, if it would help, I'd jump off this cliff. I would kill you where you stand." If Bishop looks, I'm still holding my pipe, hands clear of any weapon. "But you don't see me doing either one, do you? You didn't know if torturing Barrs would get you anything, but you took control from someone who knows what he's doing" - nodding toward Sandarkar - "to feed your rage. It's all well and good to say `If this would help, I would do it,' but you're never going to know if it does any good until after you've done it. You can't temper the sword before beating the blade."

"No one questions your conviction, your determination, your righteous rage, as I've been trying to tell you. But I don't think you've got the wisdom to know how to get what you want, you intemperate fool. Remember when you counted to 100, and Barrs was ready to talk, but you burned him anyway, until Sandarkar stopped you? Right then, did you think, `How is this getting me closer to saving my family and my country?' I think you weren't thinking at all. You were just lashing out in frustration. And if you'd killed him then, would that have helped?

"You seem to be pretty good at focusing on that knot of wood. Focus on the target inside, and ask yourself -- `Am I really helping us get any closer to saving my family?' When you can focus on your real target -- getting them out of the hands of the enemy -- then maybe you can actually do some good. Until then, you're just as likely to ruin our chances as help."

"Like you said, time is running short, so I'm going to help Alonzo try and get some information out of these orcs, before you convince them that theirs is the side of right and justice after all. Sandarkar, if you decide to try to get something more out of Barrs, one might ask how far away his ma's farm is from the city, to get an idea of how far Taur'egk can teleport. How often has Barrs seen him teleport in a day? Does he recharge that lightning wand? Why didn't arrows seem to affect him, or those bats? Drusilla might be able to confirm some of those answers, or guess other things about his magic from them. What sort of chats has Barrs had with that Thorax -- did Thorax mention any particular places in tales of his youth, or adventures with Taur'egk? We've probably got no better course than following the trail of the retreating orcs in the morning, which we knew of without any interrogating" - eying Bishop - "but it might be worth a try. Did Barrs catch any hint of what became of the dwarven corpses from the first ambush?"

Turning back toward Bishop, "I'm interested in seeing Alonzo's interrogation style. I'd appreciate it if you didn't interfere. But rest assured, if I find out that it _will_ help if you go to hell, I'll be sure to let you know."

posted by Scholeologist at 12/26/2003 03:36:00 PM

"Hm? Oh, yes, it turned out that she was brought to the front of the Army, the command center, and was rescued not long after by the Army of Clangeddin's Peak, no doubt frightened out of her wits, but afterwards none the worse. Turns out the information that captain knew would've just made clear there was nothing the lieutenant could do right then for her anyway.

"But the point, you see, is that there in the wagon, he could decide between following the battle plan, hoping for the best, and seeing how things turned out, which roiled his insides to be sure, or getting active, doing something about it, and dishing out some of the same kind of fear and pain as the orcs that were terrorizing his lady-love. That probably felt better than stewing, but he saw that if he did that, he'd lose her no matter what happened, because he'd become that which he was hoping to protect her from. The only person that could take her love away from him was himself -- that's what he meant by `He can't take away what I have'.

"Course, that's just an old war story...got nothing to do with these goings on around here. Bishop, I have no interest in getting involved in your affairs, and if it were to save your sister for you to treat your enemies like you fear they're treating her, no man would question your choice. But if the only way you see to save her is to condemn yourself, that's the path of hopelessness, and I wish you could still imagine that not only might she be rescued, but you might be able to still be the brother to her she'll need you to be. I hope that at the end of this, you won't ever worry that if she knew everything you did to find her, she might find you as frightening as her captors.

"Now, you humans might have a different sense than I do, but I need to tell you, someone who says they're willing to `forfeit their place in the Light,' `lick the blade clean', and then says their honor will be intact sounds a bit confused to these dwarvish ears. Your honor, my friend, is exactly what you'll be sacrificing. Honor isn't how you see yourself; it isn't even how other people see you. It's how they would see you if they knew the darkness of your secret heart.

"You're willing to do whatever evil thing will get you any closer to your sister? I can understand that. But make that decision knowing that you're trading your soul not for her, but for _maybe_ saving her, when maybe we can save her without walking that path. Make that decision understanding that she might need someone she can unconditionally trust afterward, and you are not going to be that someone anymore. Make that decision aware that we are all on this quest together; if next time you put a poker up someone's ass when they're begging to talk, it turns out they aren't as complicit in all this as Barrs was, you're condemning all of us along with you -- Moradin doesn't take `he told us to stay out of it' as an excuse.

"If some torture or murder would guarantee your family would be safe and your country secure, that would be a decision I'm sure you'd make without hesitation. But your willingness to pursue the road to ruin only guarantees that you'll no longer be worthy of them. So I ask you to hesitate. Of course, their safety is the most important thing. But surely you love them enough to dare hope for more -- not only that they will be safe, but that you can see them, be with them, that things can be a semblance of what they were?

"Perhaps there will come a day when there is no more room for this hope: when it is a simple question of committing a heinous crime or your family will be lost. On that day, I will gainsay anyone who says this crime does not _need_ to be committed. But surely, there is room for hope yet."

[Bob's TB: It was hard for me not to use the sentence "But that is not this day!" in the previous paragraph.]
posted by Scholeologist at 12/26/2003 01:58:00 AM

I decide to leave the torturers to work out their post-gruesome jitters, and take a few puffs on my pipe while they shoot.

"Well, first of all, Hextor's Flail is indeed as Kray describes, a big ball of light with a trail, looking rather like a ball and chain, visible for 13 days. But by itself, it's not an earth-shattering event, just another strange sign in the heavens. There aren't usually many followers of Hextor to cause trouble when their symbol appears.

"But when the orcs are already many and strong, the Flail can be an ill portent indeed. My grandfather, Kronos son of Duneddin, told me in my youth of the ferocious War Against Omen, three hundred years ago. My grandfather was a sergeant in the Army of Argunn Lode then. The orcs of these mountains rose together under a cabal of cleric warriors known as Hextor's Fist. They seemed to grow in power as the ball of light rose in the sky -- hence the name of the War.

"It seemed that there were orcs everywhere -- blocking every road, assaulting every town. Never had the orcs been so regimented, so organized. They seemed to move in lockstep, and for every ten that were killed, another ten stepped in to take their place, so it seemed that our forces could make no headway.

"And when a village was overrun, the slavering glee they took in the slaughter...my grandfather tells of one village his division passed through after it had been devastated. All the rooves were burned through and collapsed, but many walls were still half-standing. Draped over one of these my grandfather saw a survivor -- or at least it seemed so, until he realized the corpse's arms were swaying in the wind, separated from the body but still hanging in their sleeves. Several of the bodies they found -- including that one -- clearly had been cruelly hacked and then left to bleed to death, as the Army of the Fist marched on. Most of the children were lucky -- they were cleaved straight through, and must have died instantly.

"Many dwarves died in that War -- some defending their villages, some in pitched battle."

I stop for a moment and puff thoughtfully on my pipe.

"You know, my grandfather told of the lieutenant commanding his - um, I guess you'd call it his brigade. This lieutenant, I forget his name, but this village they went through was his home. He was engaged to be married, and he nearly went berserk going through the smoking ruins, calling her name, trying to find her. She wasn't there - no body, nothing. These things happen in war, and he collected himself after a short time and moved the brigade on...they were coming up behind the main body of the Army of the Fist, and although the brigade couldn't catch up, their job was to make sure that the Army of the Fist couldn't turn back and retreat without a hard fight."

Puff.

"A few nights later, the lieutenant called on my grandfather and another fellow for a scouting mission. The lieutenant himself and the two of them crept forward in the night to the tail end of the orc army. They got past the rear guard without any trouble, and came upon the supply train. And along with the foodstuffs and cooking tools and tents, the wagons carried the usual hangers-on to an army like that -- the captain's woman, less extravagant whores for the randy officers, slaves or nearly so for the grunts...you know.

"So the lieutenant led them up closer and closer to the wagon train, and then suddenly sprinted up to the back of one of the wagons and jumped in. The two guys -- my grandfather and Kinvol -- looked at each other, and, figuring they don't have much choice, ran after him and jumped in the wagon.

"Turned out it was the captain's woman's wagon -- big bed of pelts, lotsa silk hanging around, perfume on a table, that kind of thing. The lieutenant was gagging the girl with a silk shawl or something he had grabbed. She was a human girl -- there weren't that many humans around here, in those days, but there were some settlements around Lake Weng, so my grandfather had seen a few. Anyway, the two subordinates didn't want to make any noise and have the whole army come in after them, but they also wanted to know what the heck's going on. Eventually one of them -- not my grandfather, the other guy -- whispered `Uh, orders, sir?'

Puff.

"The lieutenant said `Just keep a lookout- no, wait. I planned to wait for the captain to visit his mistress, and threaten her until he told me where Lingren' - that was his fiancee - `is, but you're probably just a f__k to him, aren't you?' The woman flashed a glare at him, but couldn't say anything with the gag on, and then kinda just looked away. `So, we'll have to get a little more direct. You two get behind the doors there, and get him as soon as he comes in. I'll get what I want to know from him.' He smiled a little, looking at the girl, and rolling his knife in his fingers. `After all, he can see right here why he'd want to keep certain pieces intact. Or mostly intact.'

"So, my grandfather and his buddy, they weren't really comfortable with this...they didn't know if the captain would even be coming by that night, and how long were they supposed to wait? But you can't disobey a commanding officer, and it's not like they couldn't see it from his position. But it seemed very haphazard, and they weren't sure where it was going. So, kinda wryly, my grandfather's buddy drawled, `And after that, I suppose we kill 'em both -- the captain and his muffin here -- and then be on our merry way?'"

"And the lieutenant said, `Well, I hadn't planned on that, but it is the quickest and cleanest solution. After all, they would do the same to us if they had the chance.'"

Puff.

"And my grandfather said, `Lieutenant, if everything goes right here, we'll find your Lingren, unscathed, and after we beat down these Yankers' -- that's what they called the Hextor's Fist cult -- `we can all go home.'

"The lieutenant smiled at that image. `Yup', he said.

"And my grandfather looked at him real close and said 'When you're that guy, come back from the war, no man is gonna question what you did and why you did it. But is she still going to want to marry you, when you're that guy?' The lieutenant opened his mouth to answer, but thought about it for a second, and then thought about it for a while longer."

Puff.

"And then the lieutenant turned to the girl, and said `You tell your boy that what I have, he can't take away, and that what I could have taken away, he never had.' He turned to leave, and at the door, he turned back to her and said one more thing: `And tell him that his Flail is waning, and before it sets, he's going to run to me on the field of battle, and I will freely give him the only thing that was ever truly his.' And he and my grandfather and the other guy crept back to their camp.

"Not a week later, the Army of the Fist broke upon the anvil of the Army of Clangeddin's Peak. The High Priest there had stronger magic than the cult of the Fist -- Clangeddin is a far sight mightier than Hextor, after all. And as the remains of the army ran back in disarray, the lieutenant's prophecy came true -- that orc captain, trying to retreat with his troops, came upon the Army of Argunn Lode, following up behind them to keep them from getting away. And the lieutenant gutted him top to bottom, and no one can deny that, like anyone's, his death was his and his alone.

"The cult of Hextor's Fist didn't survive for much longer. The High Priest of Clangeddin's Peak led his people through the gullies and caves, rooting out the last remains of them. They've been nothing but a memory for the last three centuries, until now. I guess someone's decided to rekindle this old ugly flame. The stories of Hextor's Fist that I know about concern these warrior priests, not levitating wizards, or whatever it was that Taur'egk did. Maybe we should ask Barrs if he knows how that darting through the air trick worked?"

"Alonzo, you'd like to have a chat with some orcs, I know. I'd be happy to translate. You look pretty fearsome in your armor -- how do you want to play it? I can tell them you're a ferocious warlord, or something."

posted by Scholeologist at 12/25/2003 07:22:00 PM

Merry Christmas everybody!

Barik's reply to Bishop coming real soon now...

posted by Scholeologist at 12/25/2003 09:58:00 AM

[Bob's TBs] Sorry guys, I've been incommunicado first while my wife
took her laptop, and then I've been in a truly harrowing moving adventure.
I _strongly_ urge you not to get U-Haul one-way truck rental --
their understanding of words like "reservation" and "guarantee"
are not what the dictionary definition would indicate. We got
a 26' truck a day after we had reserved a 10' truck. The story
just goes downhill from there.

So, turn your way-back machines to Wednesday, December 17, 4:40 PM, and these comments will make some sense...

[Barik's TB] I had thought that Barrs had taken the place of the
_real_ wagon driver. I didn't realize it was his _job_, or that
Sandarkar was overruled (?!) in firing him. These humans have
very weird employment practices. And this notion of "coarse speech"
not being a hanging offense -- have they no treasonous sedition laws
at all? Next thing, I'll find out they have certain "freedoms"
guaranteed to all citizens!

[Barik]
In response to Sandarkar, "I am well satisfied, Mysterious Sandarkar."
([Bob's TB] Which, incidentally, is what Barik can come up with as a
formal title for an alias, as well as a bit of a pun.)

After Kray says that he accepts this understanding, I invoke the
traditional response to his formal request for aid --

"Forged by the fires of my heart, tempered by the breath of Moradin
given to me, I shall work this steel, in His name, as one of His
people."

[Bob's TB in response to Jacob]
>I assume he'll reach a budget cap before we reach an encumbrance cap.

I should point out that, as a fairly strong dwarf in light armor, Barik
can carry a heck of a lot without slowing down. Another 65 lbs. or so
and I'd still be under a medium load.

>As far as healing, if the immediate need arises during the night, High
>Priest Kevlor gave a vial of Pelor's Holy Oil to Master Barik in
>return for his services as a guide.
Oops...forgot about that...well, I guess it was good of me to save it.
:)

Ah, a good torture story...reminds me of evenings in high school with
Dave Pedini...only now Jacob's doling out the squeamish twitching. And
I should point out that, despite the way it might sound, no Jacobs were
(permanently) injured in high school. By me, anyway.

This is getting a bit extreme, though...what alignment are these guys
again? Maybe Bishop was switched when he was up ahead of the ambush...
I've been very suspicious ever since the strange appearance of Skully
that only _he_ saw...

>And Sandarkar never claimed to be a hero. He's just got a job to do.
>"But what I do isn't very nice." [Quick, anyone but Aaron-- what's that
>from?]
I'm deeply insulted I wasn't excepted along with Aaron.

> I can't offhand think of other fantasy where such actions are beyond
> the pale for the heroes.
Dude. I don't recall torture scenes of anywhere near this intensity in
any of the stuff I've read by Steven Brust, Fritz Leiber, Fred
Saberhagen (haven't read much of his fantasy though), Joel Rosenberg,
Jack Vance (only one Cugel the Clever story), Robert E. Howard, or Edgar
Rice Burroughs, and I can't imagine any of their protagonists inflicting
such torture. Even classic tales of torture (Sisyphus, Tantalus, Loki)
are more of the "eternal suffering" type rather than the "most pain in
most delicate areas" type.

And now, we're nearing the answer to the question that everyone (well,
at least the DM) has asked: where's Barik? I'm guessing that since I
was keen to see Barrs questioned, and I didn't help Alonzo out right
away, I was quietly observing the torture. I'll go with Barik's
dwarven attitude toward treason and incomplete understanding of human
culture as to why he didn't intercede at any point -- besides,
Sandarkar cooled things down when they were getting too hot. But
Barik's eying Bishop warily...and you know, in addition to Sandarkar's
being up a wall when the lightning bolt hit, someone else was out of
harm's way at the time...

Unfortunately, my Sense Motive rolls have been out of commission while
I've been out of touch -- maybe Scott can email me my impressions of
the whole affair? Barik's originally focussed on whether Barrs is lying, but
as he gets nastier, he wants to know if Bishop's turning to the dark side.

>"You want the truth? You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!"
Please tell me the dialogue in this story isn't going to become a string
of movie quotes. That said, if it gives me a bonus on all die rolls,
I'll make every third line Barik says a quote from Gimli.

Obviously, the story has progressed to the point that I can't gently
insert what I know about Hextor's Flail as something Barik said on
the way to the tower, before the whole Barrs thing, so after Barrs lets
loose the Fist of Hextor stuff, I indicate to the others that I have
something to say, ideally not in the earshot of the prisoner. If
people generally agree that they've squeezed everything out of him,
I'd be happy to have a little chat elsewhere.

I'm sorry that Alonzo's kinder and gentler (in retrospect) intimidation
has been put on the back burner -- once Bishop and Sandarkar agree
they're done with this guy, and we have that little conversation,
Barik'll gladly go up and have a talk with the fellows upstairs in
Orcish.
posted by Scholeologist at 12/23/2003 01:38:00 AM