Deep down in the dark places beneath the world ancient horrors stir in their slumber. Long years have they waited as their plans brew to fruition at the hands of their insignificant servants. Now the time to act is at hand and they must waken from their deep sleep to take an active part in the grand scheme of things....
Meanwhile, many miles above, far far away on the surface of the world, there is a city. It's name is not important to these deep ones. In fact they are probably just as unaware of it's location as the cities inhabitants are of their own. In this city storm clouds lurk overhead pouring down a mild drizzle and constantly threatenning more. An inn signs sways in the wind, it's hinges creaking. Upon it's face is a vaguely recogniseable image of a ragon's head and neck emerging upwards from a stylised wavy ocean. The dragon does not seem perturbed by it's plight and infact looks a little intoxicated. Local rumour has it that a dragon once came to the pub and got so drunk the innkeeper named it after him. If truth be told a rather ambitious brigand who insisted on calling himself the Black Dragon (claiming it to be some family heraldry) who referred to the mercenaries at his command as the dragons claws, or dragons talons, got so drunk at the pub that he passed out and the innkeeper named the pub in his honour.
But that event is long gone, ancient history. Within the building the rain outside has done little to dampen the party spirit. The ale flows freely and some young man is celebrating his last night of freedom before entering into the institution of wedlock on the morn (an event that is unlikely to follow plan if the bride to be hears of his behaviour with two of the barmaids although at least one of his friends seems to be attempting to restrain his enthusiasm). It's probably not a marriage of love, chances are he got the poor girl pregnant and her family are rich enough to require (and enforce) her honour be upheld by the presence of a husband at the alter even if it is this young stablehand.
Whilst the atmosphere at one end of the inn is certainly raucous with stamping feet and bawdy songs it has not reached one corner where, whilst the firelight still flickers, it barely touches a group of disparate strangers down on their luck and short of coin.
Thorgrin, Godric, Hasta and Kharsis are present but others may join them soon.
Hi
Near the (soon to be) wedding party, an Elf, wearing worn, but quality clothes, offers his services to the groom & his friends.
Garrick, for that is indeed his name, points out the current cut of fashion for 'city folk', listing 'a cut here, a snip there', plus the advantages of different materials.
"...ah! But lambs wool can be soft, and so loved by the ladies, sir. And a fleece collar would keep you so warm on a windy evening"!
A casual observer might miss an 'extra' pouch readily available on his wide belt. Is that just an extra set of chalk and pins, or something else entirely......?
Cheers
Paul H
PS Green is in character or narrative.
A young female dwarf sits quietly in the corner, a look of concentration on her face as she tries to ignore the noise around her and strum quietly at a mandolin. Her fingers dance easily into the positions required, but it is obvious that she is inexperienced with the instrument.
She's dressed in a warm-looking outfit of brown and grey with pockets everywhere. A thick, deep green cloak slung around her shoulders has the hood thrown back to reveal a face of average looks framed by dark brown hair pulled into a pony-tail at the back and held by a small silver clasp in the shape of a shield split into two halves.
The only thing which marks her out as being in any way unusual is the rat upon her shoulder. It nibbles her ear gently causing her to lose her concentration for a moment and she frowns at the rat briefly before breaking into a pretty smile and stroking it tenderly.
She turns to the others in the dark corner. "I don't know about you," she begins. "But I'm down to might last few coins. Don't suppose any of the three of you know of any work around here?"
Near the corner sits a man, he is clad in a clerical tunic with a hood covering much of his face and head save for what can be seen by the flickering candle at his table. Upon closer inspection, you would find him to be well built, a likable fellow. Not much of his face can bee seen underneath the hood, but you would find him to be cleanly shaven and square of jaw. He sits quitely moving only to sip his beer, making no sour face at the quality of that piddle for he is a clergyman and a polite one at that. Beneath the table in the shadows is a bulging rucksack with a religious symbol on it, declaring him a cleric of Pelor.
Squig
Between the party that is going on and the travellers in the corner is a table where a young and handsome man is sitting. He must be the same age as the partygoers just in front of him, but nobody would mistake him for a stablehand. The way he simply holds his head, or the quality of the clothes wrapping his athletic shoulders, are sufficient to betray his social origin.
The barmaids didn't miss this detail, and there is some giggle among the girls everytime one of them brings something to the young man. And an interested eye could see that there are already two jugs of water on his table...
Ignoring the little game of the maids, the young man is watching the party going on. His mid-long chesnut hair look like curly brass in the firelight, and his grey eyes radiate with a sad feeling, like a winter sea.
Earlier, a girl tried to make him stand up to dance. He politely refused, pretexting one can't dance with an armor (he's wearing scale mail). The girl seemed to be disappointed, and tried to hold him back catching the wooden pendant that was hanging around his neck. But she realized it was a holy symbol of Allitur (two hands clapping), and let him go with a resigned pout...
Is it any better with this kind of green?
I wish everyone would stop writing in dark green on a dark grey background. It makes my eyes hurt :(.
One of the wedding party takes the elf aside and begins discussing the possibility of getting some respectable clothes ready for the groom by dawn. He wants nothing flashy nor too expensive but is willing to pay for quality work to be done discretely (discrete as in, other high society families won't find out if they come asking).
After a few minutes the door opens and in walks a man out of the rain. He is in his fourties with shortish hair and a dark goatee beard. By his robes he is clearly a member of the arcane order (a prestigious guild of magicians and also a prestige class if anyone's interested later on) and a small cap rests on his head. Despite having just walked in out of the rain he is surprisingly dry.
He walks with an air of elegence to the bar and speaks quietly with the innkeeper. As they converse he can clearly be seen glancing over towards the poor corner.
One of the wedding party takes the elf aside and begins discussing the possibility of getting some respectable clothes ready for the groom by dawn. He wants nothing flashy nor too expensive but is willing to pay for quality work to be done discretely (discrete as in, other high society families won't find out if they come asking).
After a few minutes the door opens and in walks a man out of the rain. He is in his fourties with shortish hair and a dark goatee beard. By his robes he is clearly a member of the arcane order (a prestigious guild of magicians and also a prestige class if anyone's interested later on) and a small cap rests on his head. Despite having just walked in out of the rain he is surprisingly dry.
He walks with an air of elegence to the bar and speaks quietly with the innkeeper. As they converse he can clearly be seen glancing over towards the poor corner.
Noticing the wizard out of the corner of her eye, Hasta tries not to look over to him. Taking Jane from her shoulder, she wiggles her fingers and speaks a few quiet arcane words, and small lights begin dancing around the rat's head and weaving between her fingers to amuse it.
Casts Prestidigitation. Probably a childishly simple ploy that the wizard will see through immediately, but it might still get his attention. Incidentaly, does she recognise the guild?
Could you pop a list of memorised spells in your character sheet thread please? Cheers. And yes, she recognises the guild. They've got a reputation for knowing almost every spell their is and always seeming to have the right ones memorised at the right time.
With a slight protest of its hinges that is lost amid the sounds of revelry, the door opens just enough to let in the inn's latest patron. His cloak is sodden, his bow strung, clear signs that he has been beyond the city gates this day. Feeling the welcome warmth of the common room, he lets his hood fall back, revealing elven features. Glancing about the room, his eyes light up as they fall upon the bearded magician. He steps lightly across the intervening distance to the bar. "May I buy you a drink, sir?"
Turning to the elf the wizard asks "do I know you?" Shen thinks he's seen him a few times at the city's prestigious School of Magick, possibly delivering the odd lecture to those rare few who can afford the school's services.
"Bring it to me over there," says the mage pointing towards the group in the corner, "and bring yourself too. I'll have a brandy, thanks." And with that he heads off somewhat determinedly towards the corner.
Dropping a small handful of silver coins on the bar, Shen turns to the barkeep. "You heard the man: one brandy." He glances at the small group toward which the wizard is moving. "And throw in a round of ale for the others."
Hasta fidgets in delight as the wizard walks over and looks up at him with a sunny smile.
"Good evening master mage," she begins. "What can we do for such a fine member of the Arcane Order as yourself?"
The barman gives the coins a quick glance and wonders what kind of ale the elf thinks he serves up. Meanwhile the middle aged magician has reached the corner and stands behind a chair, both hands resting upon it. Cautiously he inquires if anyone would "mind if he sits here?"
My intention was for Shen to be generous, here. I don't know how much you think the brandy should be, but the PHB puts the average price of a gallon of ale at 2 sp. My thinking was that 5 pints would cost significantly less.
Shen waits for his order to be filled, a slight fidget revealing his impatience to anyone who pays close attention.
Slowly the barman starts pulling pints. Eventualy he will call for a barmaid to carry a tray over but by then the magician has already taken his seat.
"Ah, hello there," he begins, addressing the young dwarf, " please allow me to introduce myself. I am Gordrenn, purveyor of magical paraphenalia, material neccessities and related items to magicians of note. Now unfortunately I am in need of a bunch of able bodied fellows such as your good selves," by this point he is speaking to the whole group, wether they think of themselves as one or not, "to assist me in a most delicate matter. Hopefuly the proespect of suitable remuneration should induce you to to assist me."
Leaning back in his seat he awaits some form of responce.
Kharsis stands up, faces the mage and bows slightly:
"Forget about the remuneration, Sir. I am Kharsis of Sheldomar, my heart as well as my arm serve Allitur. You can already consider you have found an ear to explain what this delicate matter is about, and shall justice be dealt, you'll find me by your side."
Kharsis takes his chair and brings it at the same table as the magician.
"If you allow me, of course..."
Hasta nods too.
"Of course, sir," she says. "I would be glad to help in any way I can."
The elf from the bar arrives in the corner just ahead of a barmaid with a full tray of drinks. While the drinks are being served, he seats himself as close to Gordrenn as he can manage. He opens his mouth to speak but pauses, noticing the serious looks worn by all present.
"Ah well now," says Gordrenn, "I'm in a spot of bother. You see, my usual servants have found employment elsewhere. That upstart Rilenya's trying to muscle in on my particular corner of the market and, whilst she might not have the foggiest clue about what constitutes actual spell components she does come from a wealthy family and can afford to offer more generous terms of payment than my good self."
Reaching out for his brandy he takes a sip before continuing. "Now unfortunately, deserted by my servants as I am, I have a client waiting for a package to be delivered and he'll be needing it fairly urgently if it takes much longer. I need a group of able bodied folk willing to escort a small chest full of various material neccessities to the small town of Thurmaster. It's about a week's travel east of here, just past the town of Milborne in Harranshire."
Yeah, Milborne where they all speak with funny accents :(. I've "fixed" a lot of npc names to make them less crud* but didn't bother changing the town's name as it sort of makes sense (there is a watermill afterall). I don't think I'll make them all silly comedy aussies 'though.
Kharsis rubs his chin:
"From what you say, it looks like this Rilenya worked some unfair trick, Sir Gordrenn... This kind of behaviour doesn't fit very well to a lady. Well, the hoof of my horse is light: I'll help you with those necessity items. And I would gladly enjoy some company on the way to Thurmaster!"
Kharsis nods at Hasta and Shen, and drinks some of his ale.
Indeed, as a cleric my aim is to help my fellow man I say, having picked up on the conversation. When do we depart?
Squig
As the mage speaks to the group the door opens slowly and a figure lumbers into the room under a drenched cloak. When he draws back the hood you see the delicate features of a young (by their standards) male grey elf. He sets down his pack by the bar and asks the barkeep for "something warm." He reaches into his pack and seems relieved that the book he takes out is still dry. He looks around the room and takes note of the mage sitting with a group of what seem to be adventurers. Once he gets his drink he takes his belongings and sits at the table closest to the group.
Thorgrin, leaning against the wall just behind the table Gordrenn is telling his tale at, takes a sip of his ale and is listening intently. He notices the new comer but doesn't say anything of it. Thorgrin sets down his ale and reaches for his shield and war hammer at his side. Raising his hammer he steps forward and proclaims "Be it the will of Moradin I will lend my shield, weapons and honor to the cause if my assistance is wanted." He then moves over to the table with the wet elf. "Well met friend elf, I am Sir Thorgrin Deepslayer. May we share this table?"
The shivering elf looks up from his steaming cup of tea and nods yes. "I am Amras Tasartir." The elf stands and removes his waterlogged cloak, "I should set this by the fire but I am tired." He drapes the soggy garment over another empty chair and turns his attention back to his tea.
Garrick agrees to 'alter' the groom's spare tunic and cloak by the morning. A few nips & tucks, and some simple embroidery around the cuffs will only take a couple of hours. Besides, a little coin here & there never goes amiss.
After using some marked string to take some measurements he writes them down on a scroll.
Looking around, Garrick's interest is piqued as he notices another Elf, presumably some spellcaster. Bidding a polite goodbye to the groom's party he makes his way to the other group and addresses the Elf.
"Ah. Good-day my lady. Are You and your associates looking for some profitable employment? My name is Garrick - may I join you"?
Garrick gestures to an empty stool by the table.
"Ooops - where are my manners? May I buy you a glass of wine"?
If allowed Garrick joins the group & orders a new bottle of wine and some clean glasses.
Paul H
The young groom to be, by now far from sober, doesn't seem to understand why he's being measured (or even that he's being measured) but eventualy settles down and makes some fairly unintelligible comments.
Not quite following the conversation yet, Shen attempts to hide his confusion behind an upended mug of ale. Unfortunately, as the mug is still full, this has the unforseen side effect of leaving a trail of foam across the bridge of his nose. His face goes scarlet, and he makes as if to brush the foam aside with his tunic sleeve, forgetting for a moment about his armor. He manages to get rid of most of the foam but very nearly puts his eye out in the process.
"Master Gordrenn, I too would be happy to help you," Hasta says. "Perhaps you could let me know how best to join the Arcane Order in return?" she continues with a wink.
Once he has had a few sips of his tea and no longer feels chilled to the bone, Amras recalls the declaration made by Sir Thorgrin prior to sitting down. With that he turns toward the senior mage at the next table and politely interjects, "Pardon my impetuousness sir, if you are looking to employ a group I would also like to listen in and be considered."
Regaining his composure slightly, Shen looks back and forth between Gordrenn and Hasta before declaring, "I, too, have an interest in the arcane, though m'lady appears to be far more versed in such things than I. Might there be a member of the Order in need of an apprentice? I will be more than happy to guard your goods on their journey out of gratitude for the name of such a one."
With a slight sigh at having to repeat himself Gordren tells the elf that "I am indeed needing a group to undertake a small task for me. I'm certain the gathered assembly can inform you of all the dreary details but basicaly I require a package to be delivered safely and swiftly if possible. I am willing to pay one hundred and fifty gold coins of the realm to those of you that accept the task. How you split the reward is your own affair." With a merry twinkle in his eye he raises his brandy and sips once more.
"If you would all be so kind as to give me your names now, and to meet me on the morrow at the temple of Saint Cuthbert, there I shall draw up a contract for this undertaking and it shall be witnessed by the priests. I shall then entrust to you the chest that must be delivered and a letter for my customer to countersign proving delivery. He shall then pay you the ammount aggreed on and specified in the letter."
And with that he leans back to nejoy his drink.
Kharsis lifts his ale, as a conclusion to the deal:
"Well, this is enough said Sir. You'll find me tomorrow at Saint Cuthbert's holy place. As for you all my friends, let's try to enjoy this last evening by the fireplace before our journey, and get to know each other!"
"Ah. Good day and well met, Lady and Gentlemen.
My name is Garrick, and I also wish to join this splendid group and deliver the chest to the mage. Does anyone have any idea what's inside? I too have an interest in the arcane. You never know quite when you'll need a sleep spell to quieten an unruly customer"!
Cheers
Paul H
Before taking everyone's names (and giving the young Garrick a disapproving glance), Gordrenn offers to pay for rooms for the group at the Drowned Dragon and arranges to meet you all 'pon the morn at the chapel of Saint Cuthbert.
The morning's meeting is a fairly dull and somber affair with Gordrenn presenting a letter of employment that all undertaking in the business are to sign (witnessed by the clerics of the lawful saint). The member's names are also mentioned in a list in the letter making it difficult to alter by the addition of yet more names later on. He then presents the group with a small chest full of something heavy, and advises them not to open it, declaring that he has placed a magical spell of alarming upon it that shall last the trip's duration. He shall instantly become aware if anyone other than himself or his client, Theothrastus, in Thurmaster. Upon delivery, Theothrastus shall sign the document and then pay the group the full ammount of one hundred and fifty gold pieces.
Gordrenn then presents a map of Harranshire and advises the group to stock up for a week or so's journey as they shall be travelling for a good five or six days before they even reach the edge of his map.
If anyone wants to go shopping for supplies and stuff then feel free now. Food is advised and most objects in the PHB are available (with the exeption of all those "alchemical" magic-for-people-who-can't-do-magic items). When everbody's ready to move then we shall do so. The getting to know each other roleplaying can take place on the journey ('cause it seemed simpler to post the meeting and departure here now than to split it over two posts).
Hasta re-prepares Prestidigitation as well as the other spells she is accustomed to using early in the morning before the meeting. After a hearty breakfast, she walks to the chapel of Saint Cuthbert where she reads the contract quickly and signs her name in a neat hand. Checking her pack, she decides to head to the market to buy some food before she leaves. She looks for fresh food to cover the first couple of days, then about a week's worth of trail rations to cover delays, haggling good naturedly with the sellers but not pushing too much. She also tries to find a good dagger before returning to the shrine to meet up with the rest of the group.
Upon hearing the length of the journey before them, Shen's face falls slightly. He rifles through his coin purse, looking ever more pensive. Finally, he shrugs and says, smiling ruefully, "I suppose I'll have to eat lightly, then."
If possible, I'll buy a week's worth of sub-standard (i.e. discounted) rations. Otherwise, I'll buy as many days' rations as I can afford.
Amras reviews the contract next and signs his name to it. He then passes it to his left "here you go Sir Thorgrin."
Shifting his weight off of his axe the knight glances at the contract and then over to the priests, with a smile he signs the contract and passes it to the next person in line. Having heard Shen's comments about food Thorgrin walks over to him. "I may be of some help if you will allow me. I have all of the provisions I will need for the journey and still have some extra coin. I will gladly purchase the rations you will need." He glances back over his shoulder to the Grey Elf. "Have you met Amras the Wizard?"
Amras nods at Shen when he is mentioned. He then counts the few coins he has left in his pouch. "I have just enough to purchase the additional rations I will need for the journey. My problem though is that although I can afford to purchase them, I am already over burdened with the supplies I already have. As some of you may have already noticed my blessings are more of the mind and not in strength of arms or body. Would one of you be so kind as to carry the few days rations for me?"
Amras has prepared his spells as they are highlighted in his character thread. He goes to purchase 5 more days of rations (since he had 5 already) for himself.
"You have my gratitude, friend. Rest assured that your generosity will be repaid." Shen signs the contract with a bit of a flourish before turning back toward Thorgrin. "The wizard and I have not yet been officially introduced. Well met, Amras; I believe we will have much to talk of during the journey."
After he signed the contract Godric offers to carry Amras' extra baggage, he then proceeds to buy the rations he needs for the journey (loaves of bread, wedges of cheese etc.)
Edit: Fixed the name to Amras (the frail elf needed the help)
Godric rises early and goes to the temple, leaving the moajority of his gear (armour and such) at the inn. After having signed the contract I (he) become aware of Amras's bequest and offet to help him with his load. After this I venture into the market district and purchase:
A tent
two weeks rations
a small keg of ale
a small knife for the preparation of food
A small cup/tankrdesque thing
I then make my way back to the inn to pack.
Squig
Garrick also appends his name to the contract, and thanks our new host for the generous offer of a night's free bed & board.
"Ah! Good Day, my Lady and Gentlemen. It seems we are to be travelling companions. My name is Garrick, and I for one find this new opportunity for adventure both intriguing and exciting"
Garrick smiles and lifts his ale -
"Let's begin our new adventure with a toast... "Adventure"!""
Garrick 'clinks' his tankard with the others in the toast.
Cheers
Paul H
...And so does Godric, to adventure!
Squig
And so they set out (http://www.customhobby.com/forum/index.php?topic=1651.msg25382#msg25382for%20Milborne.%5B/url)