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Prince Aladdin Quest (Disney Villains *Almost* Victorious)

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I was reminded on Discord that Sherlock Holmes exists in this setting. As those were some of my favorite books while growing up, I now know what will be the topic of my next omake. Expect something sometime this evening. =)
 
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Within the Cave of Montesinos (Canon)
  • Sidestory
    • Within the Cave of Montesinos​

    In this and other pleasant conversation the day went by, and that night they put up at a small hamlet whence it was not more than two leagues to the cave of Montesinos, so the cousin told Don Quixote, adding, that if he was bent upon entering it, it would be requisite for him to provide himself with ropes, so that he might be tied and lowered into its depths. Don Quixote said that even if it reached to the bottomless pit he meant to see where it went to; so they bought about a hundred fathoms of rope, and next day at two in the afternoon they arrived at the cave, the mouth of which is spacious and wide, but full of thorn and wild-fig bushes and brambles and briars, so thick and matted that they completely close it up and cover it over.
    [...]
    He got up, however, and as there came no more crows, or night-birds like the bats that flew out at the same time with the crows, the cousin and Sancho giving him rope, he lowered himself into the depths of the dread cavern; and as he entered it Sancho sent his blessing after him, making a thousand crosses over him and saying, "God, and the Pena de Francia, and the Trinity of Gaeta guide thee, flower and cream of knights-errant. There thou goest, thou dare-devil of the earth, heart of steel, arm of brass; once more, God guide thee and send thee back safe, sound, and unhurt to the light of this world thou art leaving to bury thyself in the darkness thou art seeking there;" and the cousin offered up almost the same prayers and supplications.
    Don Quixote kept calling to them to give him rope and more rope, and they gave it out little by little, and by the time the calls, which came out of the cave as out of a pipe, ceased to be heard they had let down the hundred fathoms of rope.
    -Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes y Saavedra, volume 2, chapter XXII.

    The man who called himself Don Quixote had descended perhaps a dozen fathoms into the depths of the pit when he had seen a space to the right. He had quickly grown disenchanted with this wearisome descent into the darkness within the earth and had considered stopping there for a quick rest.

    But then he had seen something else.

    There was a light in the depths, far below, distant and feeble.

    A more sensible man may have assumed that it was but the shaft of sunlight coming from the mouth of the cave, reflecting off the surface of some deep pool of water. A sensible man would not have taken up the oaths of chivalry and embarked on a quest for adventure and glory everlasting. The enigma of that distant light rekindled something in the old man's heart that decided him to endure the chafing and the discomfort for a little longer.

    "More rope, Sancho! More rope!"

    The descent continued. Twenty, then forty, then sixty fathoms.

    And then he found himself at the bottom of the cave, standing on unsteady legs. The light came from a tunnel to his left, the source still hidden from his sight by the walls, for the corridor took a turn right perhaps twenty yards in. He moved towards the light, slowly, cautiously, with a hand in the pommel of his sword.

    "No need for that, good sir. You are just in time for luncheon and I would be honored if you were to join me at my table," called a voice from around the corner, speaking in good but strongly accented spanish.

    Heeding the invitation, Don Quixote turned the corner and found himself in a roomy cave that seemed to have been turned into a home. Several pieces of furniture and many jumbled piles of varied items, from books to musical instruments, filled the cavern. Some logs were burning merrily in a fireplace seemingly carved out of one of the walls.

    A great owl, perched atop a stalagmite, regarded him with unblinking eyes that somehow seemed disapproving.

    And yet, among all these oddities, it was the sole human denizen of this subterranean above that immediately captured Don Quixote's attention. He was old, ancient even, with a snow-white beard that reached below his waist and strange spectacles in front of his eyes, clad in a plain gown the colour of a summer sky and with a bizarre conical hat crowning his head. This old man was sitting in front of a small table, laden with a variety of dishes from which mouth-watering smells wafted.

    "Come join me at my table, good sir," repeated the enchanter (for what else could this strange old man be?), gesturing at an empty chair across the table.

    "May I know the name of my host before I sit?"

    "Of course, I forget my manners. My name is Merlin. You may have heard about me."

    "I have read about you. You are that french enchanter whom some say was the devil's son, a powerful figure in the tales of Arthur who was king of Britain."

    The owl then made a strange sound, something almost like muffled chortling, and didn't stop until Merlin looked at the bird with fury in his eyes.

    "It is not the first time I hear about the falsehoods said about my parentage, but french is a new one. One should be careful about the things one reads, for not all of them are true. That is why I am here. You are Don Quixote of La Mancha and I have read much of what has been written about you, but now I must know the truth of the man."

    "And why do you seek that knowledge?"

    "These are dark times, sir knight, and they will grow darker still. The world needs heroes and champions of everything that is good now more than ever before. I want to know if you, Don Quixote of La Mancha, can be one of those heroes. Now, join me, please. The stew is excellent, if I may say so, and we should eat while it is still hot."

    ​

    Don Quixote

    Martial - 12: Don Quixote is well past his prime and never had the best of health, but his obstinate bravery makes him a match for men several decades his junior.

    Diplomacy - 15: Though many find him aggravating, his sheer force of personality makes him surprisingly good at convincing others to do what he wants.

    Stewardship - 5: Although he has a firm grasp of the theoretical principles of good administration, Don Quixote is hopelessly incompetent when it comes to the practicalities of the matter.

    Intrigue - 3: Don Quixote is blunter than most hammers.

    Learning - 12: Literate, but not particularly well educated, Don Quixote has a broad but shallow pool of knowledge.

    Occult - 13: His encyclopedic knowledge of chivalric romance gives Don Quixote much information about the supernatural. Unfortunately, even in a world such as this, that information tends to be less than perfectly accurate.

    Knight of La Mancha: Don Quixote is a knight, fanatical in his devotion to the code of chivalry, as presented in the storybooks that drove him mad. Convincing him to take actions that would break his code requires a DC 75 Diplomacy roll and he'll be under a -10 penalty in the face of foes willing to act in dishonorable fashion.

    The Golden Helmet of Mambrino: Don Quixote is a delusional madman who has seen windmills as giants, flocks of sheep as armies in battle and a shaving basin as a powerful enchanted helmet. Once per adventure in which Don Quixote is participating, roll 1d4. On a 4, his constant hallucionations cause him to act in detrimental fashion.

    The Impossible Dream: And the world would be better for this, that one man scorned and covered with scars still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable star. Though distorted by madness, Don Quixote is a hero. Once per adventure in which he is participating, the Knight of La Mancha is able to turn a single failed roll into a bare success through an unexpected display of bravery.

    Sancho Panza

    Martial - 9: Sancho is a grown man in good health, but has no experience, inclination or aptitude for fighting.

    Diplomacy - 8: Personable and good natured, but with decidedly low class manners.

    Stewardship - 19: A down-to-earth and fair administrator, whose short-lived rule over the "island of Barataria" would be enough for his work to be remembered as the constitutions of the great governor Sancho Panza.

    Intrigue - 11: Although he has been described as an honest man, but with very little wit in his pate, Sancho is considerably more sagacious than his deluded master and can smell a rat from time to time.

    Learning - 7: Illiterate and uneducated, but armed with a good bit of popular wisdom, a great many proverbs and some odds and ends he has picked up thanks to his proximity to Don Quixote.

    Occult - 5: Even though folk tales and Don Quixote's ravings have given him some idea of what magic can do, he has never encountered the supernatural and would honestly prefer if things remained like that.

    Sancho Panza, Squire: Sancho has been his neighbour's steadfast companion through thick and thin. Even under the grip of madness, Don Quixote acknowledges this loyalty, so Sancho always has a +25 bonus in Diplomacy rolls in which he tries to convince Don Quixote of something.

    Simple Farmer: Sancho is a simple person, a man of the land and he is extremely mindful of his social position when interacting with others. Common ground gives him a +10 bonus in rolls in which he interacts with other low class individuals, which turns into a -10 penalty when interacting with the higher classes.

    *****​

    It is not exactly the best thing I've ever written, but it'll do as a pitch for the possibility of these guys being among the heroes recruited by Merlin. I am sure that Phil would be thrilled about this. As for the image, I honestly prefer the design from the Spanish cartoon to the surviving concept work that was made for the many times cancelled Disney movie project.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Hmm... I'm imagining don quixote tapping into Alice or Christopher robins imagination to reality thing. I don't know if that would be awesome or terrifying or both
     
    The Case of the Greek God (Canon)
  • Sidestory
    • The Case of the Greek God​

    Turn 1: Learning check, DC 80/160/240. 1d100+20+18: 120! One degree of success! They recognize that something has gone badly wrong. Geography changes, villages are repopulated by the strange and unfamiliar.

    What does Holmes want to do? 1-2=continue tracking Moriarty. 3=Travel to Paris. 4=Travel to Bern. 1d4: 3!
    What does Watson want to do? 1=Return to England. 2=Travel to Italy. 3=Travel to Greece. 4=Travel to Bern. 1d4: 3!
    Diplomacy contest:
    Holmes: 1d100+12: 13!
    Watson: 1d100+15: 61! Watson gains a +10 Diplomacy bonus vs. Holmes for the next two turns.

    Traveling to Greece from Switzerland. RER: 1d100: 12! 1d2: 2! Grimhilde's soldiers patrol the border with Frollo's territory! +20 base Martial DC!
    Martial check, DC 40/80/120: 1d100+18+15: 52! Do they evade Grimhilde's soldiers? DC 50, 1d100+18+15: 119! Critical success! +5 to evasion rolls in Grimhilde's territory!

    Investigate the strange soldiers! Does Holmes don a disguise? 1d2: 1! Yes! DC 60/120: 1d100+30+20+30+15: 186! Great success! Holmes deduces their time, their allegiance, and the name of the new ruler of the Little Germanies. Watson knocks out a soldier and steals a sword to go along with his revolver.

    They reach the edge of Hades' territory!

    Turn 2: RER, 1d100: 86! Friendly soldiers are on the move! +10 Martial bonus!
    Traveling through Greece (20-100, 20 increments): 1d100+18+15+10: 87! They reach Athens! It is utterly unrecognizable.
    Watson Learning check: 1d100+18: 110! Watson speaks fluent Greek! He serves as the interpreter.
    Learning check (no language malus), DC 40/80/120: 1d100+20+18: 135! Critical success! Explosion: 6! Total: 141! It is ancient Greece, complete with weapons and culture. Olympus has fallen. And Holmes and Watson see the (1d3: 2!) Ice Titan from a distance!

    Holmes reaction check: 1d100: 93! He cannot deny what is right in front of his eyes. The supernatural has risen, and thrown everything askew. At least now they know what happened to the world - even if some of the details seem off. Occult malus removed!

    Intrigue check, DC 20/50/75/100/200/300: 1d100+30+30+15: 134! Holmes learns of the False Pope, the Mirror Queen, the Mad Monk, the Sea Witch, the Pirate Lords, and the God of the Dead. He also learns of the kingdoms of Agrabah and Ababwa - both of which catch his attention, since he and Watson know of no historical nations by those names.

    Unfortunately, he also gains Hades' attention - he's stealthy, but not that stealthy.
    Hades' reaction: 1=Curiosity, 2=Apathy, 3=Amusement. 1d3: 1! Does he go himself, or send a representative? 1d2: 2! Zagreus is sent to meet with these odd outlanders.

    Zagreus diplomacy check: 1d100+11: 29! Initial meetings go...poorly. Holmes and Watson take badly to being ordered to accompany him back to the underworld.

    Who launches the first attack? 1d3: 2! Watson! He shoots Zagreus! Zagreus smiles.
    Zagreus counter-attack: 1d100+17+10: 29! Against (1d2: 2!) Watson!
    Watson defense roll: 1d100+15: 43! He successfully dodges, but is shocked at Zagreus shrugging off being shot and attacking him with blood-empowered blades.

    Holmes Occult check, DC 30/60: 1d100+8: 58! He recognizes Zagreus is a demigod, or at least is as powerful as one (recognized the name). Reaction: 1d3: 1! Martial! "He bleeds. We can beat him."
    Holmes vs Zagreus Martial check:
    Holmes: 1d100+18+15: 111!
    Zagreus: 1d100+17+10: 43!
    Holmes critical success! Holmes dismantles Zagreus's defense while criticizing his combat skills and over-aggressive habits.

    Zagreus response: 1=Return to the Underworld, 2=Call upon Father. 1d2: 2! He calls upon his father! Hades' response: 1d100 (low, he's pissed, high, he's impressed): 8! He's blazing.

    "GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON."

    Holmes and Watson's reaction: 1d100+12+15+10-20 (terrified): 85! They calmly, nervously, yet respectfully explain the situation to Hades, mentioning that they just thought he was a murderous cultist who was being metaphorical.

    Hades' reaction: 1d100+8+5-15: 45! He's irritated, but isn't murderous. He'll let them live - for now. But they're going to be his guests in the Underworld for a time, and he won't take no for an answer.

    I have accompanied my dear friend Sherlock Holmes on many cases, and faced down fearsome foes and confusing conundrums alike. From a Study in Scarlet to the Valley of Fear, Holmes has encountered the cleverest criminals and the most violent murderers. But none, none of that prepared us for fighting a godling and encountering the God of Death himself-

    But I am getting ahead of myself. In this, as in most things, it is best to start from the beginning.

    The beginning, in this case, was with what Holmes and I both feared would be his Final Problem. We had traveled from London, to France, and thence to Switzerland, alternately pursuing and being pursued by Professor James Moriarty, the man Holmes described as "The Napoleon of Crime." While strolling across the Swiss Alps towards the Reichenbach Falls, we experienced a most curious event, unprecedented in history and science alike. The ground shook, the skies turned black and roiled with unspent lightning. Although Holmes and I gripped the ground like drowning men, we felt as though we were trapped in an endless fall - until it ended. And when we looked up, the world, as we knew it, was gone.

    It was a most curious experience. As we were in the countryside when it occurred, we immediately strove to return to the nearest spark of civilization, a small village through which we had passed a mere handful of hours before. But it was not the Swiss village we had seen before. Instead of the sights and sounds of civilization - telegraph wires, dogcarts, newspapers - we were instead confronted by muddy streets, ox-drawn wagons, and archaic clothing.

    Holmes and I enquired amongst the villagers as to where we were - discreetly, of course, not wishing to draw unwanted attention as a result of our foreign dress and manners. They spoke an older dialect of French, but were not unintelligible to our combined talents. They spoke of a new Pope, a Parisian priest named Frollo who had declared himself the "Immortalus" when Rome was, for lack of a better term, overwritten. The College of Cardinals was no more, and with the lack of any headship in the Church, this 'Frollo' had taken upon himself the title of the Pontifex Maximus. Holmes briefly entertained the thought of traveling to Paris to uncover the truth of the mystery; I, not trusting a man who would declare himself Pope, advocated instead approaching the British consulate in Athens, Greece.

    The reports of evil faeries in the heart of France were considered by Holmes and myself to be pure myth; only a fool would believe in the supernatural as opposed to a rational explanation of events - or so we thought at the time. Our current environment would seem to oppose that mindset.

    But I digress. Holmes accepted my solution, and with walking staves in hand and pistols on our belts, we turned southeast, towards Greece.

    The lack of trains proved to be an inconvenience; lacking any other motivating force, we opted to walk. To provide for ourselves, I would set up shop in villages and advertise my services as a physician, while Holmes proved an apt assistant and guard against any ruffians who would seek to relieve us of our hard-earned coin and food. Thus provided, we traveled through what Holmes determined was northern Italy and Serbia, where we encountered a most curious phenomenon.

    Strange soldiers, bearing a green banner upon which was the image of a mirror, guarded the border. Holmes took it as an opportunity to learn more about the world in which we found ourselves. Slipping into the camp, he procured a uniform from the wash, and entered the camp dressed as one of the soldiers. As it turned out, the soldiers spoke German - a language spoken by both Holmes and myself - and Holmes engaged them in conversation. He was able to eke from them references to a 'Queen Grimhilde', the ruler of the Mirror Kingdom, and the revelation that they believed themselves to be in the year 1317. Holmes barely managed to mask his reaction; he was tempted to write them off as insane, but the combination of their dress, language, mannerisms, and the sheer connectiveness of their tale convinced him that, at the very least, something incredibly strange had occurred.

    As for myself? I was able to steal a sword and a change of clothing; the clothes I had been wearing were becoming rather rank by this point, something that no amount of washing by village maids had sufficed to remove.

    Bypassing the blockade, we entered the outer regions of Greece; and oh, the wonders Holmes and I saw! The roads were patrolled by men in bronze armor, and marvelous beasts roamed the lands. The vegetation was blooming beyond anything we had ever seen; and as we approached Athens, we even saw an ice golem the size of a mountain striding across the land in the distance. We thankfully avoided drawing the monster's attention, but the sight was sufficient to convince both Holmes and myself that, whatever had happened, it was unlikely to find its source in the rigors of science and rational investigation. The world had gone mad, and we had to ensure that we did not go mad with it.

    Athens was yet another shock; for starters, there was no British consulate. For that matter, there was none of the marks of civilization that we had so yearned for. Instead, it was as though the city of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle had replaced it in totality from the misty past. Inquiring at Mars Hill, I was able to learn that the world as we knew it was gone. Such a revelation should had been obvious, but nevertheless Holmes and I were in shock as we heard of a Mad Monk who ruled what had been Russia; the Mirror Queen who controlled Germany; the False Pope of France and Italy; a Witch who ruled the waves; Pirate Lords who vied for control of the ocean; and even the kingdoms of Agrabah and Ababwa, bastions of stability in a world gone mad.

    It was here that we made our fatal mistake; between our questions and our manners, we drew the attention of powerful beings. Our first indication that this was the case was when, during a luncheon on a hill on the northern side of the city, we were confronted by a lad wielding a sword and with chest half-bared in an armored robe. "Hail, and well met travelers!" he cried. "I am commanded to deliver you to my father in the Underworld!"

    It seemed a sensible conclusion to us to determine that here was a madman out for our blood. "Who are you, and who is your father?" Holmes asked the man in Greek - for he had been learning the language rapidly during our travels across the land.

    "I am Zagreus," said the lad, "son of Hades. He has heard of your questions, and burns with curiosity as to your nature and purpose. I shall bring you to him."

    Convinced of his insanity, I drew my revolver and leveled it at him. "You shall never take us!" I cried, firing a round into his breast. But, to my shock, the lad merely smiled, as though he had taken a love-tap and not a bullet from a revolver. "It's all right," he said, "this is more fun anyway." Tracing his blade through the blood, it glowed a deep red and he slashed at me. I moved to the side and avoided it, but was still amazed at the sight.

    Holmes took a long stride towards this 'Zagreus'. "I know your name," said Holmes warily. "Legends vary, but one does mention him as a son of Hades. Took the name in honor of your god, did you?"

    "I did not!" cried the lad with indignation. "I-"

    But Holmes interrupted him with a swift jab to the throat. "Amateur mistake," he said almost laconically, "letting a foe distract you." Choking, the boy swung at Holmes, who slapped it away with ease and moved in, his fists a blur. In a half-dozen blows, Zagreus was disarmed, bruised, and bloody, his eyes wide with shock at how Holmes had so easily dismantled him.

    "Talented," said Holmes, "but sloppy. You let your anger and strength lead, instead of your mind and insight. Go home, boy, and consider yourself fortunate that my companion and myself are merciful men."

    "This...this is impossible!" Zagreus exclaimed. "Mortals, forcing the son of a god to his knees?"

    I couldn't resist. "There's nothing 'mere' about this mortal," I said, indicating Holmes with a smile.

    "You're too kind, Watson," Holmes replied, his eyes fixed upon the lad. "Once again, go home, and trouble us no more."

    "You leave me no choice," Zagreus spat. "FATHER!"

    He's calling for his father?     I thought. How silly-

    And then the world exploded.

    "TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY SON." The voice was rather more nasal than I expected to come from the towering blue man with flaming hair, but the message was unmistakable. Fading from red to blue, he turned towards Zagreus. "Buddy-bo, how ya doing? They didn't hurt ya too bad, did they?"

    "Only my pride, Father," said Zagreus. "The tall one is far deadlier than he at first appears. He's quite the pugilist."

    The being - Hades, I now understood - rounded upon Holmes. Holmes, for his part, had gone pale as a sheet, but stood unbowed. "You did this to my baby, my boy? You, a mortal?" His flaming hair started to turn red again, and we understood that if we didn't say something very convincing very quickly, we would be doomed to a quick and painful death.

    Holmes quickly took charge of the situation. "My deepest apologies, my lord Hades," he said with a bow. "We misunderstood the situation - when he approached us, he spoke of delivering us to the Underworld. My companion and I took that to be a metaphor for killing us, and we acted accordingly. Had we known he was being literal, we would of course have accepted the generous invitation."

    Hades nodded, his hair flickering between red and blue. I took it as my cue to speak. "I'm very sorry, lord Hades," I said with my most contrite expression. "As my colleague said, we thought it was a threat, not a genuine invitation. I apologize for injuring you, lord Zagreus."

    "Enough with the lord, lord! Lord, but I get enough schmoozing from Dionysus and the others! Call me Hades, call me Death, just don't call me late for dinner, amirite!" He looked between Holmes and I. "Eh? Eh?" He frowned. "Tough crowd. Anyway, Holmesey - can I call you Holmesey? - Holmesey, Watson, I heard some funny things from my boys in Athens. Something about you coming from ol' Frollo's lands? But British? Can't blame you there, I'm pretty pissed at Horny boy for horning in on my territory. Anywho, I sent my bouncin' bubba boy to invite you to a nice spread down in the Underworld. My wife's making it, it's great! Persephone's a great cook. And if you come-" his face darkened, and his teeth turned sharp - "then maybe I'll overlook what you did to my poor boy here. Capish?"

    Holmes and I swallowed. "Uh...we capish?"

    Hades sighed. "You're supposed to say-ugh, fine, works for me. Come on, you'll love it. Spot loves seeing guests!"

    I blinked. "Spot?"

    "Yeah, Cerberus! He has this spot right on his left head, and it's the most adorable thing you ever saw."

    Learning that the Lord of the Underworld, the God of the Dead, had named his ferocious three-headed guardian "Spot" was merely the cap upon a very odd day. One that was about to become even stranger, not that Holmes and I knew it at the time.

    But that is for another time. I believe I hear Persephone calling for Holmes and I to join her and Hades for dinner again.

    Sherlock Holmes​

    Martial: 18 - Between his deceptively immense strength and his keen observation skills, Holmes is a frighteningly effective fighter.

    Stewardship: 10 - Holmes is incredibly intelligent, but is also notoriously disorganized and is prone to forgetting to do things like eating except when prompted.

    Diplomacy: 12 - Holmes has a deep understanding of the human condition, but is also known for being very blunt and callous at times.

    Intrigue: 30 - the world's only consulting detective is a master of stealth, disguise, and other forms of skulduggery.

    Learning: 20 - Holmes possesses an incredibly deep, if somewhat specialized, knowledge of the wider world.

    Occult: 8 - Holmes' love of the macabre and extraordinary has given him a broad knowledge of things like spirits and magic, but he does not believe in them one iota.
    Note: His experiences in the amalgamated world have opened his mind to what is possible, giving Holmes full access to his Occult stat!

    Traits:

    "Master of Disguise" - "The stage lost a fine actor when he became a specialist in crime." Holmes gains +20 Intrigue when going undercover, and opponents suffer a -10 malus when trying to trick Holmes with an act or a disguise. One actor recognizes another, after all.

    "Consulting Detective" - Holmes is the first, and currently only, consulting detective in the world, and his knowledge of crime is unparalleled. He gains +30 Intrigue when performing an investigation, can substitute Intrigue for Martial when scouting, and gains +20 Learning on any issues related to crime and other threats to the realm. Such is the degree of his specialization, however, that he suffers -5 Learning on unrelated matters as he bores easily.

    "Chemical Dabbler" - Holmes has made an in-depth study of chemistry to aid in his investigations, and gains +15 Learning when operating in that capacity.

    "A 7% Solution" - Holmes bores easily, and in his boredom he has been known to use drugs in an attempt to enjoy some stimulation. Cocaine, opium, and alcohol are his vices of choice. After a turn where Holmes has done something he considers boring, roll a 1d3. On a 3, he takes matters into his own hands and is unavailable for that turn. Also, if assigned to something Holmes finds boring or distasteful, roll a 1d2; on a 2, he will outright refuse to perform the action and will instead perform a random personal.

    "This Must Not Register On An Emotional Level" - Holmes has a knack for integrating his observation skills to augment his fighting ability. On a successful analysis check, Holmes can add half of his base Intrigue stat to his Martial.

    John Watson​

    Martial: 15 - A former British soldier, Watson is unafraid to employ violence when the occasion necessitates such activity.

    Stewardship: 16 - Good organizational skills are mandatory for a successful medical practice, to say nothing of how he has had to care for Holmes at times.

    Diplomacy: 15 - Watson has a very reassuring bedside manner, and is far more approachable than his prickly friend.

    Intrigue: 15 - Watson has picked up a few things from his friend, but will never fully operate on his level. Nonetheless, Watson is far from stupid, and more observant than he is credited.

    Learning: 18 - Watson is an accomplished physician who is also quite well-traveled.

    Occult: 8 - Watson is far more willing to believe in the supernatural than Holmes - a hindrance in the past, but definitely an aid in this new amalgamated world.

    Traits:

    "A British Physician" - Watson is an accredited and accomplished doctor, and gains +20 Learning on medical matters. He also gains +10 Diplomacy when reassuring patients or meeting other doctors, and +10 Stewardship when organizing a medical practice.

    "Purple Heart" - Watson was wounded in action during the Afghan war, and his wounds occasionally pain him. Roll 1d4; on a 4, he loses 10 Martial for that turn as his injuries act up.

    "The Chronicles Of..." - Watson has made a practice of writing down his various adventures with Holmes, and is an accomplished author. He gains +15 to actions that focus on either copying information or writing out books and documents wholesale.

    "I'm His Friend" - Watson is the unshakably loyal companion of Sherlock Holmes. They grant each other a +10 Morale bonus, and on passing a flat DC of 75, Watson can add half of his stats to those of Holmes as he assists him with a case. They also gain +10 to all rolls when working together on an adventure.

    A/N: I did not foresee Holmes and Watson's adventure turning out like this. But it was hilarious. Writing Hades is a gas.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Minor point of order. Zagreus is a full god, not a demigod.

    But other than that, take 8 XP for an awesome interaction!
     
    Hope Zagreus puts in some extra training due to this because getting beaten by a mortal with no boons or supernatural heritage (even if Zag was probably just intending to restrain them)? That has to sting.
     
    Huh, I wonder if we could get them to say hello?

    Abawa already interest them due to not existing and being a bastion of sanity but as an extra handy solution, Abawa has a medical university iirc and Watson is a medical professional.

    Am I making connections that might not matter in the hopes we see them? Yes. Yes I am :p
     
    jwolfe_beta said:
    Hope Zagreus puts in some extra training due to this because getting beaten by a mortal with no boons or supernatural heritage (even if Zag was probably just intending to restrain them)? That has to sting.
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    I expect he did. These happened back in Turn 2, so he's had time to improve since then. I'll roll more for them later.

    Lifeandlice said:
    Abawa already interest them due to not existing and being a bastion of sanity but as an extra handy solution, Abawa has a medical university iirc and Watson is a medical professional.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    It's as if you read my mind. =)
     
    Hey, the Three Musketeers are also Disney property. Anybody wanna guess if they're still around?

    If they are, they'll be like this:
    Athos: High stewardship and martial, poor diplomacy, trait related to his falling out with Sabine de Winter
    Porthos: High martial and diplomacy, okay learning, trait that increases martial due to his Batman-esque arsenal
    Aramis: High martial and learning, good diplomacy, trait related to his clergy studies
    D'Artagnan: Good martial, stewardship, and diplomacy, poor learning, trait that causes his temper to create a diplomacy malus
    All share a trait that increases their stats while working together
     
    So here's a question while we wait for the next update.

    What do you think is happening across the sea over in America?
     
    Ohmaigah said:
    So here's a question while we wait for the next update.

    What do you think is happening across the sea over in America?
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    Yodelling king vs....uh....actually what Disney movies set pre or during ww1 even were in NA?

    So far all I've got is yodelling mind control fellow and as I type this I get less confident that was a Disney movie.
     
    The Kings in North America are Tzekel-Kan (Central America), Santa Anna (Mexico), Alameda Slim (West), Facilier (Deep South/Mississippi River), Governor Ratcliffe (East Coast) Guild Lodge (Northeast), Firebird (Northwest), Aurora Borleias (North)
     
    Lifeandlice said:
    actually what Disney movies set pre or during ww1 even were in NA?
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    Well if you don't mind including 'lower octane' movies, Lady and the Tramp is apparently set during 1909 in a town based on Marceline, Missouri.
    TirelessTraveler said:
    Facilier (Deep South/Mississippi River),
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    And that king is either going to be working from the shadows, get his magical hooks into a massive chunk of the populace or preside over a little rebellion/civil war of some sort. Because despite Disney-fying the setting, it's still the Deep South in 1926. Ergo the Jim Crow laws, 'Convict leasing' (AKA Slavery by another name), and casual racism were still very much mainstream things. And Facilier (a man of color) assuming/claiming that level of leadership? It would go over like a lead balloon for a lot of people.
    Ohmaigah said:
    What do you think is happening across the sea over in America?
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    Depending on how patchwork the various ISOTs are, it's complete madness. You'll have chunks of the USA being from anytime from the time of European colonization to the inter-war period.
     
    Last edited:
    Who's DVV table looks like..well, let me show you

    Paul Bunyan
    Role: Strong Guy
    Country of Origin: Aurora/Wild West
    Size: Huge
    Species: Human?
    Tier: Folk Hero

    ---Attributes---
    Robustness: 30
    Agility: 16
    Intelligence: 8
    Sensibility: 16
    Charm: 14
    Will: 4
    Strikes: 7+5X where X is the number of members in the party

    ---Skills---
    Athletics: 15
    Brawl: 8
    Melee: 8
    Endure: 10
    Prevent Harm: 15
    Intimidate: 14
    Travel: 8

    ---Traits---
    Wind of the North: This character is one of the Winds of the West, living legends of the frontier. He gains +5 Persuasion to convince any cowpoke, lumberjack, barfly or other inhabitants of the Old West to heed his words.
    Man of the Wilderness: If there ever was a man of the wilderness, it would be Paul Bunyan. Wild creatures dare not fight Paul, and any player character that is a animal suffers a -5 Endure penalty against him.
    Mountain Topper: Paul is more a force of nature than a man. He is beyond a giant of man, larger than some mountains. He is capable of using the entire environment as a weapon, crashing mountains down and diverting entire RIVERS any time he would deal a single physical Strike, he deals 2 instead.
    Something in Between: If a Power or Trait would affect an animal, it may also affect Paul at a -2 penalty.
    A Good Heart: Although he seems a bit bitter, Paul really does have a soft spot in him for his ox, Babe. If players can appeal to his good side, they may add +2 to their Persuasion rolls.

    --Powers--
    Son of the Aurora: Spends a Will Point. Paul Bunyan splits open the earth, letting loose a torrent of the elements upon a single target. TN35 Acrobatics or Prevent Harm to avoid or take a Strike.
    Impossible Power: Roll 5d6k4 on Robustness instead of 5d6k3.

    --Equipment--
    Giant Double Bladed Axe: +5 Melee. Requires at least 25 Robustness to wield.
    Hobnail Boots: Paul Bunyan may pass over any terrain he couldn't already without boots on.

    --Rundown--
    A literal mountain of a man whose life lives up to the legend, Paul Bunyan is a giant who has long wandered the northern wilderness, plying his trade as the greatest lumberjack in the world and communing with the Aurora, the spirits of nature with which he has always had a close connection. Unfortunately, the rage of the Aurora weighs on his mind, and to make matters worse, the self-centered rustler Alameda Slim has got his hooks into him. Bunyan is as much a beast as he is a man, and he and his big ox Blue can sometimes be found sweet-sung right into doing Slim's dirty work. Even so, his good heart shines through, and a determined party could find in him a very strong- and very big- ally.

    As Wind of the North, Bunyan is part of the four Winds, larger than life heroes of the American continent. Along with John Henry, Pecos Bill, and the deceased Davey Crockett, he is the subject of countless songs and story, and earns instant respect from pioneers and prospectors across the land.
     
    Ohmaigah said:
    Something in Between: If a Power or Trait would affect an animal, it may also affect Paul at a -2 penalty.
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    Oh, well there's probably how slim got a hold of him.

    But man. Can you imagine having to deal with him? I can only imagine this man's martial score and I'd doubt his occult is bad either given his connection to the Aurora and nature as a folk hero.

    All that at the cost of what? Negative 30 intrigue? :p
     
    Crisis: Storm Running (Canon)
  • Sidestory
    • Miniturn 1: Return to the Valley of King

    Learning Challenge: Figure out the Plans of Mozenrath
    DC: 40/60/100/ 120
    Rolled,D100 + 20 => 120 | natural 100: 1 (Critical Success!!)

    Traveling From Syria to Egypt (on foot), D100 => 48

    The Weather!!, D100 => 7 (It's a Massive Sandstorm, made of Black Sand)

    Martial Check: Outrun/Soldier Through the Sandstorm
    DC 30/70/100
    Rolled, D100 + 10 => 102 (You've Outran a MAGIC sandstorm on FOOT!!)

    -----------

    Minturn 2:Arrival

    Intrigue Check: Is anything out of the ordinary?
    DC, 30/60/???
    Rolled, D100 + 7 => 43

    Diplomacy Check: WARN THEM OF THE SORCERER!
    DC,???
    Rolled: d100 + 15-5 => 27 (Failure, they don't believe you and tell you to calm down)

    Learning Check, Submit Thesis for review
    DC, 40/80/100
    Rolled (First Review), D100 + 20 => 58
    Rolled: (Second Review), D100 + 20 => 89
    Rolled (Third Review), D100 + 20 => 42

    Thesis Approval?
    DC:100/150/200/300
    Review Roll:189
    Grading Roll: D100 + 20 => 97
    Final Score: 286/3=95.3

    Grade on the Assignment: 95.3

    PASS!!

    ----------------------------

    Miniturn 3: Preparations!!

    Occult Roll 1: Do you Feel something Different about the Storm?
    DC.10/50/100
    Rolled,D100 + 10 => 83 (Yes you do)

    Occult Roll 2: Do you know what is causing it?
    DC,50/70/100
    Rolled,D100 + 10 => 91

    Diplomacy Roll: Recruit Help AKA MAKE SOMEONE BELIEVE YOU!!
    DC,30/60/90/120
    Rolled: D100 + 15 => 83

    Intrigue: "Barrow" Needed Equipment
    DC, 40/60/80
    Rolled: D100 + 7 => 89 (Success)

    What do you get!: D100 => 96

    What does your Partner get?: D100 => 32

    Learning and Martial Check: Advantage of Terrain
    DC, 40/80/120
    Rolled: d100 + 10 + 20 => 95

    Intrigue: Setting the Trap
    DC:???
    Rolled: D100 + 7 => 97

    --------------------------------

    Miniturn 4 Arrival

    Diplomacy Roll: Try to control yourself, and be a gentleman.
    DC, 60/80
    Rolled: d100 + 15 => 91

    Diplomacy Roll 2: Offer false courtesy to Mozenrath
    DC:70/100
    Rolled: D100 + 15 => 100

    Mozenrath Intrigue: Awareness of the Trap?
    DC???
    Rolled: D100 => 75+???(Mozenrath Intrigue)

    (He's aware of a Trap, but not its nature)

    Martial: Prepare the Trap
    DC, 10/20/70
    Rolled: d100 => 67+10 =>77

    Mozenrath Intrigue: Spring the Trap
    DC,???
    Rolled: D100 => 98

    Lawrence's Counter: D100 => 3

    (Disconnected Wire, please reset)

    Martial: Plan B, Asset Denial, Attempt 1
    DC, 50/60/90
    Rolled: D100 + 10 => 49

    (Bare Failure)

    Mozenrath's Counter Attack!!
    Rolled: D100 => 73+??? (Mozenrath Martial)

    Martial: Plan B, Asset Denial, Attempt 2
    DC, 50/60/90
    Rolled: D100 + 10 => 105

    Intrigue: Take what you Can!! Give Nothing Back!!
    DC: 60/80/100
    Rolled: D100 + 7 => 10

    Occult: Mozenrath is DONE with you!!
    Rolled: D100 => 74+10(Occult)=84

    VS

    Mozenrath's Attack Roll: D100 => 92+??=

    Lawrence's heart has stopped beating.

    -------------------------------------------

    Mozenrath Diplomacy: Explain the Madness! And Embrace an Opportunity
    DC:10/40/80
    Rolled: D100 => 95+???

    --------------------------

    TE LAWRENCE! Occult:Live Again!! LIVE AGAIN !!
    DC:???
    Rolled: d100 + 10 => 109

    (Congratulations, Lawrence, you've pissed off all your friends, were left for dead and made an enemy of a powerful sorcerer, but at least this you'll live long enough to regret it)

    Intrigue Roll: Loot what's left?
    DC, 70/80/90
    Rolled: D100 + 7 => 89

    Crisis: Storm Running

    (T.E Lawrence POV)

    You had made it to Damascus where you had collected your thoughts on the Madness of the situation that seemed to hound you at this moment.

    For one thing, a Sorcerer seemed to be looking for educated men of means, primarily of science, literature and history. You assumed that he had taken power somewhere and had resolved to either start a school, or realistically, need them to help build a government.

    It had been simple to figure out that Mozerath was acting out of a sense of insecurity in rule, that had been why he'd been so insistent for you to get you on his side and why he acted the way he did.

    He had gained power and was afraid of losing it.

    Classic self-interest that one…

    But his regard for magic meant another thing entirely. Artifacts of power existed and were buried across the world.

    Shit...well that meant that was now the second thing you now have to deal with, the magic you don't understand fully, and the danger of now finding something that could end the entire world. Oh for the love of all good things!

    It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

    Great...well, best get on with it all, you had to get back to them now and warn them.

    It was going to be a long trip. Or a short one if things just stop trying to get in your way for once.

    You weren't afraid of a little sand, just its sheer volume.

    -------------------------------------------------------------

    (Mozenrath POV)

    Your first attempt at recruiting did not go well, but that didn't deter you at all in the first place. First, the situation was far from ideal and your shows of power were not exactly an impressive display.

    What you needed now was to be bold, daring and with a touch of grace and force. Simple feelings of superiority without it looking like superiority. Men like them will understand.

    All cowards do...and despite their knowledge and skills, you assumed they were incapable of any true defense against you and your powers.

    It's time to force a sandstorm upon this world to make a statement.

    After all, what's a little show of power? It helps the statement.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    (T.E Lawrence POV)

    "That sandstorm will be here within the day son, are you sure you want to be traveling?" The Caravan boss said as you prepared your things as they paid for more adequate shelter.

    "I'll be a step ahead of it, I'm fast." You said.

    "Your arrogant enough to think you can outrun a sandstorm?" He said.

    "I don't think I can outrun a sandstorm, I can outrun a sandstorm." You said with a feeling of both smug pride and a hint of arrogance.

    "If you want to die to nature, that's your problem. Leave me out of this." He said.

    You looked to the brewing storm "I didn't ask for your opinion...only the money you promised for a job well done."

    He paid you, and you started running towards Egypt.

    Surprisingly it wasn't on your heel the whole time, and you were as you judged by the weather, three days ahead of it by the time you got close to your destination.

    Three days ahead of a sand storm on foot.

    This was probably the peak of your athleticism. But by god was it a tiring event.

    ---------------------------------------------------------

    When you saw your camp, you surveyed it for any true sign of trouble, a suitably paranoid thing to do, ungentlemanly in conduct.

    But it needed to be done to ensure your safety, with all the madness running through your mind, and the world, a little caution went a long way in soothing your mind.

    You then walked into camp to Lord Carnavon and Howard Carter seeing your arrival in full.

    "Lawrence..you've returned, now come on, have a drink and tell us what you have seen?" He said.

    You calmly took a deep breath and a deeper drink and calmly told them of everything you saw, the medieval power struggles, the power of magic and sorcery that seemed to blight this land and its people.

    And of Mozenrath and his mad ambitions to use men like him to conquer and control a corner of the world.

    It sounded fantastical, insane, and utterly mad...but it was truth.

    A truth they failed to believe.

    "Lawrence...what you're saying is utter madness, Magic, gods, talking animals, the occasional mad weather storm, all of this is insane." He said.

    "It's what I saw...look me in the eye and see the truth in my words." You said.

    The two men looked at each other and looked at you. "You've spent too much time in the sun Lawrence, your seeing shit where none exist...I'd have the doctor prescribe something but he's busy trying to boil enough water for all of us…so please, no more stories of magic and swords and sorcery, you aren't a pulp writer."

    "Are you going to believe me on anything?" You said.

    "The change of society and the regression of the Middle East is all we believe you on, not the fantastical nonsense," Carter said.

    You stood there for a moment as they looked.

    "Unless you have something important left to say, you may take your leave, Lawrence." He said.

    You closed your eyes and took a deep breath and held it for a long moment.

    "I would like to submit my thesis for review. Sir," you said handing the massive document to the two men as they looked at it.

    "We are not a committee that can fully approve of such a matter." Lord Carnavon said.

    "Then give yourself the authority, you are the highest-ranking man here and both of you are educated, men! Find a third sir and review it...I've spent years working on it, and I'd hate for all the time to go to waste on a technicality and lack of commitment from Oxford." You said that you should get something out of this madness.

    If they weren't going to believe you, then they would at least acknowledge your efforts.

    "Give us a day or two and it will be done." He said.

    --------------------------------------------

    The Day passed quickly as you were handed it by a messenger.

    Grade on the Assignment: 95.3

    PASS!!

    You gave a small sad smile, that you've successfully passed one milestone in your life.

    Now you need to live long enough to enjoy it.

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    The Sandstorm was a cloud of black sand and dirt.

    Mozenrath had arrived on a similar storm in Syria, before your confrontation in the cathedral.

    He was coming and making a show of it using his magical powers.

    You once thought that he was nothing but a liar, and a con man, but he was real, his powers were real.

    His Magic was real...and by god, the sheer unknown power of it frightened you greatly.

    He would kill you all to make a point.

    A point...something so banal and petty, you'd fully believe that if he didn't have a kingdom to run he'd actually do it.

    Alas, too late to run now...all you can do now is fight this with all your might.

    Not very considerable, considering you were short.

    Bah, you'll get help.

    "Artos, want to steal from our bosses?" You said sitting on a hill outside of camp.

    "Why...you've never acted like this?" He said.

    "I think the storm is controlled by an evil sorcerer that is a crime on God's green earth, and I need help killing him?" You said. "Can you at least assist me?"

    He looked for a moment and then saw the brewing storm.

    "I was planning on stealing from Carter anyway." He said.

    "Goodman...now get what you can and meet me back here in three hours," you said with a smile.

    "You're placing an awful amount of trust in me?" He said.

    "I wouldn't be surprised if you did betray me for your own self-interest." You said. "I'm just glad you're listening to me and helping me steal what I need."

    ---------------------------------------------------

    What you stole was a good amount of considerable equipment.

    And by considerable, it was...well, you knew where all the important stuff was.

    You have 50 more bullets for your C-96, making it less a liability in a fight.

    You had taken a Martini-Henry Rifle with about 45 bullets, it wasn't an Enfield but it was something you were indeed comfortable with.

    And finally, it was the entire supply of Dynamite and Nitroglycerin.

    Why they left all of it laying around you'll never know.

    Artos was a bit more humble with his work, kerosine oil, not a lot, but enough to set fire to something.

    The Terrain was a valley with many different steep inclines for sniping and the sand was easy to move and easy for something to get buried shallow enough to be a problem.

    Add in the fact the wood around it could be shrapnel, it will be good enough.

    It took hours to set all the traps without anyone being wise to it...but it was enough.

    ------------------------------------------------

    He had arrived around midday after the storm had come and went.

    It took everything you had to not simply shoot him and be done with it. To just end this threat before it even began to worm his way into their trust.

    Hold yourself together, it will come soon and you will soon be rid of him.

    "I am Prince Mozenrath of the Black Sands Kingdom, I have come to you all with an offer of friendship and security in these troubling times of confusion and strife." He said with a flamboyant sense of style of an experienced showman.

    For your part, you played the part well, "Prince Mozenrath, welcome, I didn't think I'd see you again after our debate in Syria, please, do make yourself comfortable, Mr. Carter and Lord Carnavon will be seated with you shortly."

    It was a civil introduction, with full courtesy and dignity, the kind you didn't give him during your last encounter with him.

    He took it, and for the moment, allowed himself not to see you as an enemy. It was all a show of course, but he wanted the trust of those around you, not you yourself.

    It was a game now, one of charm and work.

    ----------------------------------------------------

    (Mozenrath POV)

    Did this Man think you a Fool? Did he not think that you would come expecting him to prepare a sort of ambush to try to kill you?

    No...you only are unaware of the method of which he will use to kill you?

    Poison, likely but you'd know the taste of any poison by your alchemical training.

    Would he try to overpower you and stab you to death? Theatric fits his character and his myth that he himself is invincible.

    So many options, so little time for him to strike it out.

    He had prepared it so well, you'd almost consider it art of the highest form of flattery.

    He'd put so MUCH effort into killing you, that it almost bordered on obsession.

    You're touched by it all, alas, you have plans, plans that require you alive to ferment them.

    "Xerxes, if you may sniff out the trap." You said cooly as you waited.

    "Yes, master." He said as he began to sniff about.

    "And let us play this game of yours's I've already won." You said as you sat ready to cultivate your harvest.

    Now Xerxes will, as a wise man once said, spring the trap.

    --------------------------------------------------------

    (T.E. Lawrence POV)

    Artos didn't set the wire properly to the dynamite under the tent...shit.

    Well, Plan A for Assassination didn't pan out, time for plan B then.

    Because if there was one thing that College's Military training taught you, it was that Asset denial was always on the table.

    You ran to one of the other plungers and pushed it down.

    It was a tense silence...nothing.

    Well shit...that group was a dud! HOW THE-.

    Oh, these must have been stored improperly, explains a lot actually.

    Now you have to deal with this.

    ---------------------------------------------

    (Mozenrath POV)

    Well, he was being insistent this time on being a problem…

    A Sand Strider (A Magic Sand statue immune to swords and which can only be destroyed by the strongest of winds or water.) should be enough to quiet that nettlesome bug of a man.

    "Yes, my library's are considerable Mr. Carter. And In several different languages." You said.

    You knew this T.E Lawrence, who was not magically gifted and not especially gifted at war, based on your discussion on his life, was an adaptive bastard in the literal sense.

    You just had to sit back and watch it all end in your favor.

    The Sand Strider will check by the Storage first, he's probably planning on running away like the coward he is.

    ------------------------------------

    (T.E Lawrence POV)

    Did that sand statue just walk into the storage tent? Yes...Yes, it did.

    Well then? Let's actually hope the Wire is connected to that one and it blows up.

    You pushed the plunger down and waited.

    Where was the explosion, there was supposed to be a big-.

    *KABOOM!!*

    Ah there it was...and that was all the modern digging equipment.

    And the Gasoline, and the...trucks and cars...and it's still exploding….stop exploding, now it's going to explode OH GOD THE HUMANITY!!

    That was one of the artifact tents too...and it was now burning the...shit is that the...wealth tent where Howerd hid the life savings worth of gold.

    And now things are still exploding...maybe you should have laid off the dynamite a little?

    And the Kerosine is on fire….shit, you denied the…

    Oh, you blew up the armory too, nice.

    God, what didn't you blow up? You even got the library or part of it at least.

    It was a damned shame.

    Now you had the hell out of here and take what little is left.

    "LAWRENCE OF ARABIA!! FALSE WARRIOR OF THE DESERT!!" Mozenrath shouted, imbued with magic and hate.

    Oh, Fu-.

    --------------------------------------------

    (Mozenrath POV)

    He had denied you.

    HE HAD DENIED YOU!

    HE HAD DENIED YOU FOR THE LAST TIME!!

    This man, this INSIGNIFICANT little BASTARD spawn of some forgotten man in the middle of some forgotten island had denied you, the tools, the weapons, and the knowledge of these lost ingrates!! He had delayed you…

    HE HAS GIVEN A SETBACK you can ILL afford at this critical juncture!!

    And now...Now, he must die...for this grave injustice!!

    You began the incantation.

    The World Shook as you said the words of death and strife.

    The Lightning came down and hit true…

    You were certain of it.

    ------------------------------------------------------------

    Death had been an old friend, a bitter one.

    Lawrence's heart stopped beating.

    The Fear of Death was a cold lingering embrace.

    The Kind you feel like you felt, once before.

    All of it...so comforting, so terrifying.

    "I don't want to die…" You said quietly with a sort of childish request to it.

    The ringing was the last thing you felt as you began to fade away.

    ------------------------------------------------------

    (Mozenrath POV)

    The Glow faded as you smiled. "It is done."

    Carter and Carnarvon looked at each other before looking at you with fear in their eyes, at the awesome power you unleashed.

    "I'm sorry had to deal with the source of all of my problems," you said.

    "I'm sorry Prince Mozenrath and forgive all of my aloof manners, but WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!!" Carter screamed.

    "Legendary sorcerer, Magic is real, and all things that you don't understand I have the answers for, and more." You said in a slightly bored tone.

    They stood agape, unsure of what to say next.

    "My offer of protection was genuine, as is my offer to help you in exchange for knowledge of, well, a lot of things...most we can sort out the details later." You said. "I just needed was that annoying fool dead. But now that he's dead I can keep you all safe from the terrors of the world." You said.

    "How do we know you aren't lying?" Carter said.

    "If I was lying to get your guard down, you'd already be dead, you and everyone in this valley." You said sternly.

    The crowd that gathered was quiet and in shock. "You will all know...I am MOZENRATH, and you are now under my protection!! Stand with me, and I will give you a world worth dying for, power beyond imagination!! And well, I don't know the rest...we can talk about it the details later."

    It seemed that somehow in the ruins of their camp, with no supplies and no long-term survival chances insight, it seems a silent agreement was made in the camp.

    They had no other choice, and you were rather generous in your offer.

    "We accept...but will we make arrangements when we get to the Black Sand Kingdom?" Carter said.

    "Yes, Yes of course...when we get there I might actually have something for you all...just let it be done when we get there." You said. "It's much safer there."

    No one noticed the smile you made.

    And the crowd talked and gathered supplies for the long journey ahead.

    But you savored this victory...for despite its great material loss and the loss of knowledge, you had received the learned men and their compatriots, and with it...leverage.

    Shame Lawrence had to be your enemy...but he was insistent on fighting you, and he had to die.

    Shame...Oh well, you won't lose sleep over it.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------

    (Lawrence POV)

    You can't feel anything as you cross the desert, the sun scorching down upon you and the sand assaulting your body.

    It was so hot...so dry, so empty.

    How could this have happened?

    What could you have done more of, What could you have done at all?

    Everything was lost! You were dead, you didn't want to die….you wanted to cry, scream and crawl out of the sand and live!

    You wanted to make your own mistakes, your own legacy!!

    You didn't want to be known as some man's Bastard son, some fool's footnote.

    YOU CAN'T DIE!! YOU HAVE A LEGACY!!

    You can't die as nothing.

    But you're lost? You don't know where to go...don't know what to do?

    You're dead.

    Or as close to dead as alive can get.

    There's no way out of here? Is there.

    You miss Mother…

    What can I do?

    "You can start by stopping being sorry for yourself." A voice said as you turned.

    White Robes, a gleaming sheathed dagger, and a smile that made the sun seem more bearable.

    "I can't exactly do that...I don't know how." You said.

    "Yes you do, you outran a sandstorm on foot and tricked a sorcerer, keeping him from his prize." He said. "You stood when no one else would. That makes you more of a man than any one of them."

    "And what do I have to show for it? I'm dead?" You said pointing at your heart. "I'm dead because he was better, stronger, and could use magic! I can't do any of that!! He's a prince, I'm a Bastard of a Lord and a Governess." You said.

    "Who are YOU?" He said his smile never wavering.

    "What kind of question is that?" You said. "I'm dead it doesn't matter who I am?"

    "It does matter Because you want to live. Deep down you want to live, you won't lay down and die so easily." He said. "Now I ask again. Who are you?"

    "Thomas Edward Lawrence, Doctor of Archaeology and Anthropology, I was born in Wales 1888. I want to be my own man...I want to be remembered as a hero like the stories of old." You said.

    You looked at the Robed man and smiled as you felt your heart lift. "Who are you?"

    "I am Lawrence of Arabia, I was born in the sands of the deserts of Palestine and Damascus, I helped forge nations and create problems to be solved by people, I did my duty and died in a Motorcycle Crash in 1935." He smiled as the blood on the top of his head became apparent.

    "Am I really you?" You said. "Or am I myself?"

    "You're both." He said.

    The Sun then hid behind a cloud revealing a Jackal sitting where the man once stood.

    "Hello, Lawrence...quite the Pickle you're in." It said in a calming voice.

    "I am not dying today." You said.

    "I didn't doubt it for a second, But I'm also doing this partly for selfish reasons my boy, my Jackal Headpiece is still in your camp and I'd rather it not stay in Egypt with all the Chaos running around in it, and I'd rather it fall into the right hands then be abused," Anubis noted.

    "I accept...no strings attached...I'll protect it." You said.

    The Jackal nodded in happiness. "Good, Thanatos will be pissed, but I can use the fact your Clinically dead, not brain dead to get him off my ass. So take it and run."

    You nodded. "Thank you, Lord Anubis."

    The Desert Sands blew quietly as a storm brewed.

    "You know Lawrence...You are a good man, I'm certain that your God would have let you into paradise." He said.

    "Is it going to hurt?" You said.

    The Storm prepared to strike.

    "All Things hurt for a time, the question is...how do you bear such pain, that is the mark of a true man," Anubis said. "Open your Eyes, Lawrence, it's time to wake up."

    The Lightning struck and your heart started beating.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    You crawled out of the sand and felt like sandpaper, you were thirsty.

    The water had collected in the ruins, a storm had gathered and came and went while you were unconscious, you drank and calmly looked around.

    It was a hell of a storm...if they left so much equipment behind.

    You found the equipment you stole but noted the dynamite was useless and wet. Then you moved to see what remained of the canned food to eat, but the real treasure was the Jackal Headpiece.

    Still here, its importance was ignored, and as such relegated to the curiosities tent, which had survived the madness that had proceeded, and in doing so survived your wrath.

    Curiosities were not that valuable...but now you know some at least we're worth it.

    Now that you organized yourself...how do you make a Sand Sail?

    Reward: T.E Lawrence is now known as "Lawrence of Arabia"

    Lawrence Gains +1 to Learning due to becoming a Doctor in Archeology and 1 Martial due to his extensive field use of his college offered military training.

    T.E Lawrence gains the Trait Artifact "Jackal Headpiece": A decorative symbol of Anubis, It may or may not have powers related to the God of the Dead.

    Gain Equipment: Martini-Henry Rifle and 45 bullets.

    Extra Ammunition for his C-96 handgun.

    Mozenrath gains the Employ of the Valley of Kings Archaeology team and the Hero Unit Howard Carver and Lord George Carnarvon

    However, due to extensive Sabotage by Lawrence of Arabia, almost all of their Finances, heavy machinery, and weapons have been lost to the desert.

    AN: Well, I'm assuming it's ready along with everything else I've done to get it ready.

    Also Storm Running, I think Mozenrath and Lawrence are enemies now.
     
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