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Wishing Well Winds [a Ryuutama PBF]



In this world there exists an ancient custom: All men and women are expected to leave their hometown for an extended journey at least once in their lifetime.

It is the Journey that they walk, and it is Travellers that they are called.

But they are not alone. An ancient dragon called a Ryuujin watches over and guides them unseen.

*>~++~< *

The wind stirs.

A sheen ripples across the grassy hills. Up and down their curves, teasing in and out of the shadows cast by the massive clouds that pass languidly over head.

One hill in particular stands out among this sea of green. Not grass, but a mound of flowers for the wind to play with–pools of white, clusters of yellow, speckles of violet and red–the wave breaking upon them, setting their top-heavy heads a-bobbing.

Atop the hill’s crest, several stone slabs lean upon one another, with one particularly overdramatic slab laying askance upon the others, edging as close to flat as its pride will allow. And at the hill’s foot, the tips of boulders form its toes, poking out from the tall blades of grass, surrounding the flower fort in equal measure. It is between a pair of these boulders that two objects move in sync, ruffling a path through the blades like an innocent mimicry of the wind.

They become visible as they start their ascent upon the slope: a pair of wings. Scaly green on their bony ridges, and musky yellow on their smooth flaps. They come to the ascent of the slope, and emerge–attached to a squat dragon, trudging along on its hind legs. Encountering the cacophony of flowers, it changes its gait. Tip-toeing between petals, hopping over stamens, the dragon makes its cautiously haphazard way up. Approaching the stone structure, it enters under the lackadaisical slab, disappearing into its shadow.

There isn’t much room inside, just enough for the hole the dragon squirrels into. Down it wiggles, barely stirring the well-worn dirt as it’s tiny claws pull it in this way and that. It isn’t a very direct route to the hill’s belly. The hole opens into a rotund room from the ceiling, from which the dragon pops out from. Grabbing the hole’s lip, the dragon rolls in a little somersault, pulling its legs out from the hole only to land on its tail. Shaking its head quickly to avoid any dizziness, it stands, brushes itself off, and waddles towards the center of the room.

It is here that lies the structure that dominates the room: a pedestal, of craftsmanship that stands in stark contrast to any of the structures on the surface. Grooved sides with vined leaf engravings, and a cornice that dwarfs its occupant: an egg. The dragon stretches its neck up to allow its nose to inspect the tiny tenant. Satisfied, it waddles over to a rather large desk along the curved wall. All manner of assortments and accoutrements line its surfaces and shelves: vials and jars, herbs dried and fresh, paints and inks, brushes and quills. Dirt stained claws reach up to rest on its wooden edge.

“Now then,” the dragon murrs to itself. “Where to begin…”

*>~++~< *

Anybody for Ryuutama PBF?

~Cast of Characters~

Name: Willow
Player: @PangolinPaws
Class: Farmer
Type: Magic

Name: Dot
Player: @suz
Class: Hunter
Type: Attack

Name: Shiro Akane
Player: @Abubu
Class: Healer
Type: Magic

Name: Erasmus Beigh
Player: @Pravikun
Class: Merchant
Type: Technical

Name: Ishiyonimorenya
Player: @islan
Race: Midori-Ryuu
Artefact: Encyclopedia

~Rules of Engagement~

Players are allowed to make free use of NPC’s in their posts for expedience of play and flavor purposes, provided it does not change a situation already in play. These may be NPC’s that they have created out of wholeclothe and only exist for a single post, or borrowed from one another, with continued use and final say to be dictated by the Ryuujin. Other potential players may submit their characters and be featured as a “character of the week”, with the possibility of being added as a main character (main cast to be limited to 4-6 characters, with 5 the most likely maximum).


The township of Burr started life as a simple logging village. Some would account the eventual existence of the university as indicative of the scholar’s flight from the hubbub of city life. Still others would point to Founder Eklesial Martinue’s love of rural sights. In reality, the crux of the matter came down to cost: not just in lumber shipments, but in the import tariffs enacted by the Shelfir Kingdom at the time. It was also in no short supply of spite towards the ruling Regintiel family and their fund cuts that Mister Martinue broke ground in this spot some seventeen decades ago.

Yet below the gaze of the tall arched walls of academia, the slow life of toil and simple comforts continue much as it always had, just in greater number. Woodcutters, block cutters, carpenters, bakers, farmers, papermakers–and one house of piano manufacturers–go about their daily lives, while berobed students patron the town square.

But on this day there was a slight alteration to the routine, at least for one corner of the township. As the sun sets, the lights of household windows are finding themselves outmatched on one particular neighborhood by those filling the road. It is out here that a few dozen people have gathered, a few dragging tables to set up in the road, while others bring a bevy of homecooked dishes. It is the tradition of Burr to send one’s neighbors off with a little party, when one leaves on their Journey. And it is for this occasion that we meet tonight.

Burr Town Creation Sheet

~Starting Map~


Dot thinks she is ready. She still lives with her mother, aunt and uncle and her two youngest sisters, so she will be leaving the family business of harvesting and selling wild honey in capable hands. Her family are all excited for her and have been very interested in her trip preparations; Dot is still busy trying to explain to them what on earth induced her to help buy a pet pangolin for the journey. Her mother rolls her eyes, “Why didn’t you buy some nicer clothes instead?”

But the reality of Dot’s departure finally sinks in this evening, when she sees all her neighbours smiling and wishing her well. There is an uncomfortable lump forming in her throat… Her uncle comes up and gives her a bear hug. “Your father would be proud, Dot.”


“Dad hurry up, everyone’s already there!”

Shiro struggles to keep up with his son Tommand and his family. His granddaughter runs up to him, arms raised with joy as he scoops her up into a quick toss.

“Again, again Grandpa!”

He laughs, but that twinge in his back was no joke as he delicately places her back down.

“If we do it too much, you won’t think it’s fun anymore my little flower.”

“But we won’t get to do it once you leave!”

“Alright, once more, but don’t tell your Nanna.”

The man is dressed in drab clothes that are clearly past their prime. A red vest over his best white shirt and plain brown pants. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, showing his surprisingly muscular build. Behind him trots a Liofel. The brown furred beast lays its head on his shoulder and purrs, well, he considers it purring anyways. Liofels are large insectivores with long conical faces upon which grows a pair of curved horns. The beast’s thick black, white, and brown calico coloring follow its long legs down to cloved feet. They look like a combination of a goat and an ant eater. He strokes the beast along the center of its face as she coos in delight. On her back are strapped several containers filled with various supplies for his trip, Shiro isn’t taking any chances. He is fully prepared for the days to come

Tommand circles back around and huffs in exasperation.

“Go on Talia, grandpa is slow enough without you distracting him.”

She runs to her mother giggling and waving. Shiro smiles proudly at the sight, almost forgiving his son for being such a busybody… almost.

“Are you sure you’re okay with taking care of your mother while I’m gone?”

“Yes Dad, of course, we’ve been through this–”

“You know when to give her the medications I made for you, and you can’t forget the salve at–”

“Dad, Dad,” his son places both hands reassuringly on his father’s shoulders, “Faline has everything written down, I couldn’t forget anything if I wanted to.”

“You don’t deserve that woman,” Shiro mumbles.

“Mom’s been saying those exact words to you for years,” he fires back laughing.

And I’m going to make sure she lives to say them for more years to come he vows again. He crosses the top of the hill resolute in his purpose and ready for adventure.


Dorian Yelten checks his pocket watch. An expensive little thing, especially in these parts, but all school board members are presented with one from the previous seat–and are naturally expected to take good care of it for the next. As the city council magistrate, he likes to make it his civic duty to attend such events (there’s always one every few months) while running fashionably late. No, it is certainly not just an excuse to show off his blueberry cobbler, a hand-me-down from his grandmama’s recipe book.

He turns a corner. Ah, it looks like the festivities were just getting started. Not as fashionably late as he was hoping for, but at least the towel-tucked cobbler under his arm was still warm.


Dot smiles when she sees Shiro and his family coming up the road. She has only met him once before at the market when they were buying provisions, but she instantly recognises his gait. Then her eyes widen at the beast of burden walking next to him. Is that a Liofel? For real? If it’s coming on the trip then that is just the best news.

But at that moment she spots Dorian and runs over. She especially wants the University’s seal of approval for this journey. “Magistrate Yeltin! Let me set out your dish on the table. It looks delicious.” She racks her brains for something more intelligent to say. “Has there been any more trouble with the Slimes out east lately?”


“Bramble! What are you doing? You don’t even eat bread.”

There’s a crash followed by that awkward ripple of silence through the crowd that always follows when someone drops something in public.

“Dot, would you hold this for a moment?”

Before even finishing the question, let alone waiting for an answer Willow plops the balled-up pangolin in Dot’s arms. It bristles and emits an odd, but definitely angry gurgle as Willow turns back to the baker’s stall.

“Sorry”. She picks a couple of loaves off the floor and dusts them off with the hem of her work dress before putting them back on the table. “Here, they’re fine.”

“Evening, Yelten. Shall we, Dot?” She scoops Bramble under her arm where he unfurls and hangs, folded double about the middle like a bizarre and rather despondent cat.


Dearest Erith,

I trust this letter will find you in good health and that all things are well at home. I do miss the smell of the sea, though this trip has been profitable and engaging. I find myself full of a boundless energy and it has gripped me within it’s feverish hands. How can I shake this bubbling desire that wells up within me? The answer is, sadly, that I can not.

Thus it is that I write this letter, knowing full well the force of your ire shall fall upon me upon my return to Artenga. I have accepted this as only my due. Know that I do not, nor shall I, shirk my responsibilities upon my return but this is not a state of being that I can ignore. I must answer this call, I must cast caution to the wind and set out, for there are stories to be found. I am sending the vast majority of the profits I have made with the rest of the caravan, they shall be delivered to you. I have kept a modest amount to outfit myself for my journey ahead.

Please do not worry that I will travel alone and fall prey to mischief and dark tidings. Earlier this day while I was within the marketplace I chanced to run into a few people who were also preparing for a journey and they were rather short of funds. I was akin to a knight in shining armor to their plight and they have invited me along with them. One of them is in fact a man of healing. So put your mind at ease, sister mine, I shall be within the best of hands.

May your gold always shine true
Your Dearest Brother, Erasmus Beigh

He sat back for a few moments, taking the time to read through what he had written before nodding and letting it set for a time to dry. His sister would not be happy to receive this letter instead of her brother upon the caravan’s return, but with hope her normal towering rage will have burned itself out by the time he returned home. He took the time to gather up his things, pack them away into his backpack and adjust his travelling clothes. He smiled as he caught his reflection in a small mirror.

Such an amazing bargain finding such good serviceable and above all stylish travelling clothes. The way the vibrant colors all intermingle just took his breath away. Such wonderful shades of red and blue and green and yellow. He laughed at his own foolishness, he was not some nobleman besotted with his own looks. He finished packing his things, shouldered his backpack and grabbed his walking stick. While it was true they weren’t setting out until tomorrow, he was taking the opportunity to start fresh this very night. He exited the wagon, letter in hand and stepped over to the Head Trader of the caravan, handing it over to him. It would be safely stored and brought home to his sister so that she would know.

"By all rights I should charge you for delivering this, Erasmus. Erith has a tendency to shoot the messenger of bad news." The Head Trader rumbled a bit gruffly. Erasmus only smiled and patted the man on his shoulder.

“Erith is far more bark than bite, old friend. And any bite she has will be reserved for me upon my return. I doubt I shall survive, and thus your delivery of this letter for me in a way constitutes the fulfillment of a last request. My overflowing gratitude to you for this. I do wish I could stay longer, but there is a party going on and I am certain to be late to it. Farewell to you old friend, I shall see you again should fortune favor me. May you always have coin!” He said even as he moved away from the caravan, waving to him and the others who were around. He turned and headed down the streets, his walking stick tapping the ground every few steps with a small rustle and clatter of the various bits and bobs attached to the head. The sun was setting and it would be dark soon, but he should be able to make it to the party before things truly got started.


Yelten smiles broadly at Dot as she takes the dish, a little hesitant to give it up. “Ah, yes, uhh … Miss Madoka, was it? Slimes, ohh, surely you’re not in that big of a hurry to find danger in your Journey, ah–”

He cuts off at Willow’s exclamation of shrubbery and bakery produce.

He fixes his spectacles at the sight of the tough farmer lady bearing an odd creature similar in appearance to an armadillo. Suddenly sensing where it is going, he snaps his cobbler dish back out of Dot’s fingers just in time for it to get replaced by a scaly pangolin.

As Willow marches away, he can only stare stiffly in bewilderment, before offering Dot a nervous smile and standing aside to let her lead the way.


Dot takes the pangolin/pie bait-and-switch in her stride, then carries on the conversation.“Oh I’m in a hurry to find everything, Magistrate Yeltin. Don’t you think it would be great if we discovered something new? The University would be famous again.” Dot realises what she has just said, “Not that it isn’t famous now… Oh look there’s Mr Beigh!” Dot takes Dorian over to meet the others and introduces them. She has half an eye on the Liofel and is wondering what is the polite amount of time that needs to lapse before she can ask to stroke it’s nose.

In a break in the conversation Dot will ask what the plans are for the morning. She instinctively looks to Willow and Shiro, being the senior members of the party, for guidance. But she also notes that Erasmus has an unusually purposeful air about him.


Though the party was about his departure, his family wasted no time disseminating into the crowd to their friends and neighbors and Shiro finds himself with a plate of food sitting next to Daisy alone. He keeps a wary eye on the liofel as her tongue snakes dangerously close to his plate. Setting the food down, he leans back on the bench and looks up at the stars twinkling among the blanket of night. He’s never been much fun at a party, he prefers staying on the outskirts and soaking in the atmosphere. Normally, his wife would be here with him, and part of him wants to return to her side. If she hadn’t made him promise to attend he would be there right now.

When he spies the Magistrate, he walks over, “Thank you for coming Dorian, we all appreciate your presence.”


"Ah, yes … " Dorian’s eyes wander distractedly, searching for a good spot to set down his dish.

Dorian fumbles along, still being mindful of his burden.

Dorian Yelten nods to each in turn,

"Ah, ahem, yes, Mister … Shiro, Miss Willow, and … Mister Beigh, was it? Good to see you all on your departure party, heh heh … " He turns around, spying a clear surface, only for a jug to get plopped down in it as soon as he goes to make his move.

“Erm … yes. What direction were all of you planning to set off tomorrow? The southeastern road is certainly the easiest choice.” His eyes continue to wander erratically as he talks. “Of course, cutting through the eastern plains might the fastest way to find yourselves alone, and the quickest route to a haven in Ersol village, but you’ll need to keep an eye out for slimes. Then there’s the western woods, but–” finally catching a clear spot, Dorian hastily places down his cobbler with a relieved sigh “…but-ah, but that can get pretty rough once you get beyond the logging area, heh heh.” He turns back with a nervous chuckle from his toothy grin.

(Starting Map added near the top of the thread)


Shiro considers the options. The truth is, he doesn’t even know where to begin his search for the cure to his wife’s mysterious illness, but there may be someone out there who does. While it may seem unlikely that a village so close as Ersol may hold a key to finding it, they might as well start there.

“I think heading east would be the best option. Ersol is as good of a goal as any, and with so many in our group, we should have little to fear from slimes.”

He looks around at the others to gauge their reactions. Leadership is not something that comes easily to Shiro and if someone else would prefer to do so he will gladly step aside to a supporting role.


Not fond of the limelight herself and recognising Shiro’s reluctance, Willow pats his shoulder.
“Ersol is a good place to start. We can get an idea of how we travel together with a certain destination in sight and if we find we’ve forgotten any essentials the village will give us a chance to stock up.”


It seemed luck was with him as he arrived before the party was in full swing, as if prepared to leave right afterwards. He smiled and said hello to several people as he made his way through the crowd. He knew none of them, but a familiar voice calling out his name, did make him turn and see one of the three he’d met earlier. “Aaah greetings and salutations once again Miss Dot. And Mr. Shiro, it will be such an honor travelling with you. Might I say that your Liofel is truly a magnificent animal. So majestic! My great uncle has a farm of them. Many a night I spent curled up in their midst. And Miss Willow, of course, I wouldn’t dream of forgetting you, my dear lady.”

He smiled at all of them and bowed low before Dorian, one arm folded across his front and one across his back.

“And it is a great pleasure to meet a man of such high esteem as yourself Magistrate Yelten. You do not only your office but your people proud. And you have reminded me, as such is the way of all teachers to impart knowledge, I have forgotten to present my own meager offering to this sumptuous buffet.” He paused to remove his backpack and dig around in it pulling out a small tin that he placed on the table nearby, flipping open the lid.

“Jellied molluscs! A delicacy from my home town. Sweet and delicious!”


Shiro blanches at the sight of the mollusks.

“Well, I think I’d better get back to my family, thank you for the company everyone,” he says and escapes before anyone can reply in an almost non-offensive manner. He spends the rest of the night greeting old friends and neighbors, dancing with his granddaughter, and eating all manner of food (not seafood, never seafood). He’ll go to sleep that night with the warm feelings he stored up during the feast and dream of a green dragon running through a field of flowers.


Dot has been following the discussion with great interest and doesn’t disguise her delight as the talk turns to heading east. Right now her mouth is full of spinach salad that her little sister has just handed to her in a wooden bowl, but she adds some of Erasmus’s jellied (hmmm what are they exactly?) to the mix… Having finally swallowed, she manages “These are wonderful!”

At the end of the evening, as her uncle had promised, a few fireworks are let off. Flashes of green, white and yellow illuminate Burr for merely a moment, but they stay on in her mind’s eye as she walks home.


Dorian seems intrigued as he takes one. “Aah! I think I tried something like this once when I was last in Zanfoosk, oh … six years ago, now? Hm, yes, but Mr. Beigh, you simply must try my renowned blueberry cobbler, it’s … oh, now where did it go?”

The celebration is short and sweet, with the attendees knowing the women and men of the hour had an early morning ahead of them. As dawn breaks the next day, the eastern rolling plains greet them with pockets of mist filling all of its depressions.

All Players: roll for your Condition for the day. It is [STR+SPI] with a bonus of +2 for the other night’s delicious food and good bedding. Based on the result, provide a brief description of how your character is doing today. If you get a 10+, you are in Tip-Top Shape and can choose one stat to improve by one die type for the day.

All Players: roll for your Travel check. The Terrain is Grassland+Cloudy Weather, so it has a TN of 6. Roll [STR+DEX], with a bonus from any gear for Grasslands or Cloudy (walking sticks would provide +1). Provide a brief description of how the day’s journey goes for you based on this result (feel free to bounce off one another’s ideas).

@PangolinPaws: make a Direction check [INT+INT] against the TN of 6, with a bonus from any gear for Grasslands or Cloudy. @Abubu: you may support by rolling [INT+INT] against a TN of 5; if you succeed, @PangolinPaws gets a +1 bonus.

@suz: Something you ate last night doesn’t quite agree with you. You have Food Poisoning (Poison:3). So long as your Condition is 4+, you don’t suffer any ill effects, and you will recover if tomorrow’s Condition Check is also 4+.


Condition check STR d6: 5 + SPI d6: 3 + 2
Travel check STR d6: 4 + DEX d4: 3 vs TN 6
Direction check support INT d8: 1 + INT d8: 8 vs TN 5