Ylvas had only recently completed her training. As part of the Oath, it was expected that she would waste little time undertaking their work. There were always Small Folk who needed to be protected; monsters, both literal and figurative, to be confronted and overcome. Whilst prudent Oathspeople weren’t unheard of, most did not join the Oath because they were blessed with an overabundance of patience.
She had been on her way to investigate a report of a missing child in Little Waverly, a tiny village in the Golden Vale, when she had felt something change.
It was difficult to pinpoint precisely what it was. The road was long and winding as ever, the breeze moved softly through the trees which lined this country path in the middle of nowhere. But there was something in the air, something that lingered at the back of her mind; an instinct, and her instructors had always been clear – you should trust your instincts.
There was nothing but clear trail ahead and behind. There was no sign of any ambushers lurking, that she could see. Yet she still drew her weapon and steadied her shield in hand. It was an easy thing to settle into a defensive posture; light on her feet, waiting for the attack she was sure was coming.
And then it was upon her.
A brilliant golden light was suddenly upon her. It did not seem to originate from any particular point; instead it covered everything simultaneously, blinding and brilliant and utterly terrible.
And she felt it trying to change her.
It was in her skin, now. In her flesh and in her blood and in her bones. It pierced to the core of her, suffusing her with that awful radiance. The power twisted inside her, and she opened her mouth to scream, more golden light spilling from it. It sought some part of her that it could fit into this strange new golden world, but there was nowhere for her to fit – no place for her in this existence.
She ground her teeth, holding in her heart the oaths that she had made – the promises to the people of this land, that she would be there for them.
Something stirred in the gold before her, and she squinted against it. A flaw in the darkness. He stood tall, skeletal figure clad in robes of darkness. One bony hand rested on her shoulder, and he spoke.
“THIS SHALL NOT BE YOUR ENDING.”
RoC Online – Group Wraith – The Hostess
Together, the group ventured towards the sound of running water presuming – correctly – that this would be the baths which had been spoken of.
The baths were as luxurious as could be imagined. A great and beautiful space of gleaming marble surfaces and steam. Elegantly-appointed attendants served the whims of the visitors, and seemed quite surprised when the group collectively refused to part with their weapons and armour. Apparently they were unfazed by the sight of such accoutrements – indeed, others who were armed and armoured came into the bathhouse as the group obtained their bearings, and allowed the attendants to relieve them of the burdens that they carried before being taken for the rest and relaxation offered in this house of pleasure.
It did not take long for the group to be approached by a woman clad in a golden toga; her hair spun gold, her eyes hidden behind a blindfold of gold. She smiled upon them, arms spread wide to indicate no threat.
“My friends. You are the distant travellers, yes? I am told that you are seeking me? It is most unusual for any to come here seeking the approval of a humble Hostess. All is well, I trust? All is always well in the Halls of Pleasure. Please, how may I be of service to you?”
The smile does not fade for even a moment as the humble Goddess dips low, bowing her head to these, her mortal patrons.
And in the shadows of the bathhouse, another figure materialised – likely confused as to how she arrived in such a place, or even where ‘here’ was; but there was no mistaking the legendary figure of Seshmet, the stern High Judge of Ekimelahw, Serbasel, the potent sorceress Xorphia and the Son of Gray – one of the most prominent adventurers within the Oath.
Whatever was going on here, the figure who had laid his hand on Ylvas’ shoulder had deposited her far and away from Little Waverly, that’s for sure.
|Action||Type||Fate Point Cost|
|Question the Hostess||Interact||4 per question|
|Convince The Hostess to Leave||Interact||30-50 (good roleplay may lower this amount)|
|Return to the Feasting Halls||Move||2+1 per person past the first|
|Examine the Baths Mundanely||Interact||4|
|Examine the Baths Magically||Interact||4 per realm|