Aelar makes his way into the Immoral Wench and looks around for Rheim.
Rheim is not that hard to spot among the crowd of patrons to the Immoral Wench, several being sailors and merchant shipmen from the seas who normally frequented The Rusty Anchor. Rheim herself stands at a tall six feet, overseeing a brawling ring with a closed off expression. She's dressed in a modest pants and tunic, arms crossed. Occasionally her gaze will drift around, eye the patrons, search for any potential rowdy clients. She is obviously a coastal woman, going by her stocky nature and deeply tanned skin, but there is something about her that instantly draws attention. Something that screams 'danger!'
Angelus gives them his most charming smile, send a hand gliding through his golden locks pushing his luxurious hair behind one, long pointed ear. His eyes dazzle like cerulean pools as he speaks in his usual cheerful, musical tone, "Absolutely not having a go at you. As I came upon the city I assured the guard that it had slipped my mind to gather the proper papers, but being as that I am a great hero, it was my intention to help investigate and solve this incident I hear of. I believe someone mentioned a place called Angos'lale? Either which way", he continued waving his hand as if all of this were trivial, "the helpful guard at the gate suggested I come over here to these Barracks and speak to the captain, both about securing the proper papers and for information regarding the case. Also, if you know of any victims who require aid or assistance, please point me in their direction. I'm definitely here to help."
Angelus stood there grinning widely, as though this were a perfectly normal thing to say, and apparently hadn't taken in the general tense and moody atmosphere of mild oppression and fear that ran through the citizens. He showed absolutely no fear of the guards, treating them as complete equals, recognizing neither rank nor station. He had been a Noble once, and was used to getting his way, and was absolutely confident in his own abilities. To say that he was arrogant was an understatement, but he wasn't particularly condescending in tone either. More like he just expected everything to go his way and that, as a great hero, no one would ever think to challenge or question him.
"You? A great hero?" the human snorts. "You're a friggen bean pole."
"Oi," his elf companion snaps out. "I'm a friggen bean pole, you ass. We're all friggen bean poles. For Pelor's sake that got old years ago." The human barks a laugh.
"Get's a rise out of you, doesn't it?" He grins, all teeth. "Now you...you we can get papers, yeah? Lost 'em I bet. That's why you've got this whole...pretty thing going, right? Try to weasel into good graces?"
"Oh for ****s sake," the elf mutters. "Go inside. The Captain will get you some damned papers. The mess at Angos'lale isn't anything for you to worry about. No victims, no damsels to rescue, Mr. Hero. So put it out of mind and just be on your friggen away."
The sarcasm is thick. They really don't believe you.
"After you get your papers, of course," the human says, and his grin is practically wicked.
"You? A great hero?" the human snorts. "You're a friggen bean pole."
"Oi," his elf companion snaps out. "I'm a friggen bean pole, you ass. We're all friggen bean poles. For Pelor's sake that got old years ago." The human barks a laugh.
"Get's a rise out of you, doesn't it?" He grins, all teeth. "Now you...you we can get papers, yeah? Lost 'em I bet. That's why you've got this whole...pretty thing going, right? Try to weasel into good graces?"
"Oh for ****s sake," the elf mutters. "Go inside. The Captain will get you some damned papers. The mess at Angos'lale isn't anything for you to worry about. No victims, no damsels to rescue, Mr. Hero. So put it out of mind and just be on your friggen away."
The sarcasm is thick. They really don't believe you.
"After you get your papers, of course," the human says, and his grin is practically wicked.
"You people and your papers..." Angelus shrugs and moves toward the door to enter the barracks. Despite their somewhat rude demeanor Angelus was not in the least discouraged. So far everything was working out, and nobody was particularly stopping him. He felt sure he could take down these villains, single-handedly, and safely make the world, and this city, a better place.
He grinned upon entering and asked politely, "Excuse me. I'm new here. Can anyone point me in the direction of the Captain? All fingers point to him to sort out this paperwork business and I'm here to help with the incident. I assure you I can be of great assistance. I'm a hero you know."
So far being completely direct and honest had worked out. He contemplated the sort of power hungry person he used to be, a dark expression of brooding ghosting his features for the briefest of seconds, before his charming grin was set back in place across his handsome features.
"You people and your papers..." Angelus shrugs and moves toward the door to enter the barracks. Despite their somewhat rude demeanor Angelus was not in the least discouraged. So far everything was working out, and nobody was particularly stopping him. He felt sure he could take down these villains, single-handedly, and safely make the world, and this city, a better place.
He grinned upon entering and asked politely, "Excuse me. I'm new here. Can anyone point me in the direction of the Captain? All fingers point to him to sort out this paperwork business and I'm here to help with the incident. I assure you I can be of great assistance. I'm a hero you know."
So far being completely direct and honest had worked out. He contemplated the sort of power hungry person he used to be, a dark expression of brooding ghosting his features for the briefest of seconds, before his charming grin was set back in place across his handsome features.
The Captain, it turns out, is a stern faced gnome. She glares up at you, lips pressed thin, prominent scar across her face and her white-blond hair tied up into a sharp bun. She's dressed in leathers, bright fey-like green eyes carved from chips of ice. Entirely unforgiving.
"Those two louts send you in, I see," she huffed. "Very well. Papers it is." She completely ignores your second comment. "Name, date of birth, age, location of residence and if not that city or township we can mark as point of origin, next of kin..." She eyed him up and down. "Income source. Length of stay."
Wilkas returns to the cafe he had taken a break at before looking for Kella. Where was she? He looks at the sky to gauge how much longer before he has to go to his parents' estate as he contemplates asking someone about Kella.
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"You people and your papers..." Angelus shrugs and moves toward the door to enter the barracks. Despite their somewhat rude demeanor Angelus was not in the least discouraged. So far everything was working out, and nobody was particularly stopping him. He felt sure he could take down these villains, single-handedly, and safely make the world, and this city, a better place.
He grinned upon entering and asked politely, "Excuse me. I'm new here. Can anyone point me in the direction of the Captain? All fingers point to him to sort out this paperwork business and I'm here to help with the incident. I assure you I can be of great assistance. I'm a hero you know."
So far being completely direct and honest had worked out. He contemplated the sort of power hungry person he used to be, a dark expression of brooding ghosting his features for the briefest of seconds, before his charming grin was set back in place across his handsome features.
The Captain, it turns out, is a stern faced gnome. She glares up at you, lips pressed thin, prominent scar across her face and her white-blond hair tied up into a sharp bun. She's dressed in leathers, bright fey-like green eyes carved from chips of ice. Entirely unforgiving.
"Those two louts send you in, I see," she huffed. "Very well. Papers it is." She completely ignores your second comment. "Name, date of birth, age, location of residence and if not that city or township we can mark as point of origin, next of kin..." She eyed him up and down. "Income source. Length of stay."
"Ah yes, hmmm let me see...." Angelus clicks his chin with his finger tip, eyes rolled up and peering into the far distant past, scouring his mind for foggy memories of times long forgotten to most, but seeming as if it were yesterday to himself.
He scribbles "Angelus il-Vec" down for his name, and "Aedaira the 8th of 703 Saila" for his date of birth. "Iralia, il-Vec Estate" for the residence or township, despite it's current status being completely overrun and forgotten more than likely. He wrote "Deceased" for the next of kin segment and "Hero" for income source. "As long as it takes to deliver this city from villainy and danger" in the length of stay bracket. He then grinned and slid the papers back to the Captain. "Mission complete! Now then, let's get to saving this city shall we?" He smiled at her with a brilliant grin, not at all phased by her icy gaze or stone cold demeanor.
Wilkas returns to the cafe he had taken a break at before looking for Kella. Where was she? He looks at the sky to gauge how much longer before he has to go to his parents' estate as he contemplates asking someone about Kella.
The sun is high in the sky, and marks it as about midday. Your travels weren't too far or long today and so you have plenty of time of daylight hours to pass. You find the cafe to be even busier than earlier, and much, much louder. It's hard to make out what any single person is even saying.
"Ah yes, hmmm let me see...." Angelus clicks his chin with his finger tip, eyes rolled up and peering into the far distant past, scouring his mind for foggy memories of times long forgotten to most, but seeming as if it were yesterday to himself.
He scribbles "Angelus il-Vec" down for his name, and "Aedaira the 8th of 703 Saila" for his date of birth. "Iralia, il-Vec Estate" for the residence or township, despite it's current status being completely overrun and forgotten more than likely. He wrote "Deceased" for the next of kin segment and "Hero" for income source. "As long as it takes to deliver this city from villainy and danger" in the length of stay bracket. He then grinned and slid the papers back to the Captain. "Mission complete! Now then, let's get to saving this city shall we?" He smiled at her with a brilliant grin, not at all phased by her icy gaze or stone cold demeanor.
The Captain stares at the paper, and scowls.
"Is this a joke?" She demands with a pinch of her nose. It takes one look at you to realize that no, you are in fact quite sincere. She sighs, mutters something about the insane and it is just her luck, obviously, and pulls out a new set of forms. "Age," she demands crisply. "How many days travel have you been, what direction from?" She marks Adventurer down instead of Hero but leaves the second portion blank while she waits for him to speak.
"Ah yes, hmmm let me see...." Angelus clicks his chin with his finger tip, eyes rolled up and peering into the far distant past, scouring his mind for foggy memories of times long forgotten to most, but seeming as if it were yesterday to himself.
He scribbles "Angelus il-Vec" down for his name, and "Aedaira the 8th of 703 Saila" for his date of birth. "Iralia, il-Vec Estate" for the residence or township, despite it's current status being completely overrun and forgotten more than likely. He wrote "Deceased" for the next of kin segment and "Hero" for income source. "As long as it takes to deliver this city from villainy and danger" in the length of stay bracket. He then grinned and slid the papers back to the Captain. "Mission complete! Now then, let's get to saving this city shall we?" He smiled at her with a brilliant grin, not at all phased by her icy gaze or stone cold demeanor.
The Captain stares at the paper, and scowls.
"Is this a joke?" She demands with a pinch of her nose. It takes one look at you to realize that no, you are in fact quite sincere. She sighs, mutters something about the insane and it is just her luck, obviously, and pulls out a new set of forms. "Age," she demands crisply. "How many days travel have you been, what direction from?" She marks Adventurer down instead of Hero but leaves the second portion blank while she waits for him to speak.
"Oh, pardon me, did I forget to mark my age? Hah! I can be so absent minded you know? Really, just this whole thing with the papers...I was told to go out and be a hero, make the world a better place right? Well I totally forgot to prepare for my journey! I haven't eaten in a week it feels like...or maybe it's true. I can't remember honestly. Anyway I'm 103," he rambled as he scribbled his age on the paper. He noticed the edit to his "income" source but decided not to press the issue.
"I suppose it's been about 9 days since I left the swamps of Iralia...I passed through a town, briefly, can't be too careful with roaming bands of dangerous humans about right? Anyway it was called Oakenhold I believe. I wasn't particularly familiar with it and I tried to keep my head low as I traveled. Can't be too careful as an Elf these days. I'll bet the incident in this city was done by human raiders, attacking the city for plunder and gain, right? The human guards here are probably slaves, made to serve the Elvish Nobles...but I saw a fair amount of Half-Elves coming in....kind of inappropriate to breed with ones slaves but that's none of my business now is it?" He waggles his eyebrows as if he were sharing a bit of extremely juicy gossip.
"So! Now that my papers are in order, shall we set about saving this city from the hives of villainy and scum that pervade it? It's time to make the world a better place, and what better time to start than right now?" He grinned at the Gnome, and flipped his hair back, it cascaded his shoulders in glittering gold as it neatly swept from his face. He was ready for action and heroic deeds. "My magic is extremely powerful, you know. We shouldn't have any problems clearing up a few dozen raiders. However this is your city, so I'll let you take the lead on this. Just tell me what to do! Where you need me most. I'm here to help."
Still another 3 hours or so until he had anywhere special to be. Wilkas decides that he may as well ask a waitress or waiter who comes by, "Could you tell me the state of affairs of the Tholins family? More specifically of their daughter, Kella?"
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Brash approaches the half-elf then stands in a somewhat attention remembering his military background.
"Excuse me sir" he says in a low calm voice. "I am Brash of the Hillmen clan and formerly of the Draak army. Is there some way that I and my axe can be of assistance?" He tries to hold his form and posture to look like a good and loyal soldier boy. "I would like to gain access to this fair city and if papers need to be earned then I only need to be shown a direction."
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Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
"Oh, pardon me, did I forget to mark my age? Hah! I can be so absent minded you know? Really, just this whole thing with the papers...I was told to go out and be a hero, make the world a better place right? Well I totally forgot to prepare for my journey! I haven't eaten in a week it feels like...or maybe it's true. I can't remember honestly. Anyway I'm 103," he rambled as he scribbled his age on the paper. He noticed the edit to his "income" source but decided not to press the issue.
"I suppose it's been about 9 days since I left the swamps of Iralia...I passed through a town, briefly, can't be too careful with roaming bands of dangerous humans about right? Anyway it was called Oakenhold I believe. I wasn't particularly familiar with it and I tried to keep my head low as I traveled. Can't be too careful as an Elf these days. I'll bet the incident in this city was done by human raiders, attacking the city for plunder and gain, right? The human guards here are probably slaves, made to serve the Elvish Nobles...but I saw a fair amount of Half-Elves coming in....kind of inappropriate to breed with ones slaves but that's none of my business now is it?" He waggles his eyebrows as if he were sharing a bit of extremely juicy gossip.
"So! Now that my papers are in order, shall we set about saving this city from the hives of villainy and scum that pervade it? It's time to make the world a better place, and what better time to start than right now?" He grinned at the Gnome, and flipped his hair back, it cascaded his shoulders in glittering gold as it neatly swept from his face. He was ready for action and heroic deeds. "My magic is extremely powerful, you know. We shouldn't have any problems clearing up a few dozen raiders. However this is your city, so I'll let you take the lead on this. Just tell me what to do! Where you need me most. I'm here to help."
It took a minute but the Captain quickly began to realize that perhaps no, you weren't joking, but merely insane. She grumbles to herself and quickly adjust the date of birth. Aedaira the 8th, 97 Vaes she notes down, and then taps her lip to think. "Oakenhold? Ah, so Rwendia then." She quickly scribbles the new locations down, and then frowns at the visitation section. After careful study of you she marks temporary, and then hands them over.
"These are travel papers," she explains carefully, but with a bit of a sneer. "Keep them on you, Mr. il-Vec. Any major city or port of hub will require them." She hands the papers over, and then provides a grimace of a smile. "Now as to the incident...why don't you go and. Ah. Visit one of the Colleges." Not her problem, she figured. Let one of the damned mages deal with you. "Center of the city. Big Crystal Spire area."
Still another 3 hours or so until he had anywhere special to be. Wilkas decides that he may as well ask a waitress or waiter who comes by, "Could you tell me the state of affairs of the Tholins family? More specifically of their daughter, Kella?"
The woman who stops beside you is a tall, lithe creature. Not elven, not human, but something else that you haven't had the chance to see before. She ducks her head in thought to your question.
"The Tholins, sire?" She offers you a drink as she thinks. "They've been rather quiet of late. Ever since that mess a fortnight ago."
Brash approaches the half-elf then stands in a somewhat attention remembering his military background.
"Excuse me sir" he says in a low calm voice. "I am Brash of the Hillmen clan and formerly of the Draak army. Is there some way that I and my axe can be of assistance?" He tries to hold his form and posture to look like a good and loyal soldier boy. "I would like to gain access to this fair city and if papers need to be earned then I only need to be shown a direction."
The half-elf cocks his head in your direction as you approach, and his eyebrows raise pointed as you speak. His expression is mild, seemingly a bit surprised but otherwise genial. He gestures to the guards in a clear sign of dismissal and they scuttle off quickly to do whatever task they've been assigned.
"Hillmen? Draak army you say?" the half-elf murmurs mildly and tucks a couple of strands of his long blond hair behind his ear. "My you have come a long way then, friend. From the North, right?" He eyes you up and down, hums a bit, then nods in fair understanding. "Well then, you wish access and papers I can certainly assist you with that. Come, come." He gestures for you to follow him, and leads you past the gate. The four guards at his side quickly form a flanking position again, this time to include you in the center next to the half-elf. "We'll need a bit of common information. Age, date of birth -- we here count the year as currently 200 Vaes, so I hope you can convert your date of birth, friend. We'll also need your home of origin, any next of kin to contact, source of income if you have it, reason and or length of stay."
As a note: There are 365 days in a year. There are 7 months in a year. 6 of those months have 52 days, the last month being 53. The weeks are 8 days long.
The months in order are: Phaestira, Similaera, Aedaira, Railora, Raelis, Tyelis, Aedlis.
Days of the Week: Rithe, Eodaira, Leaphos, Irilakh, Raena, Mistae, Phasrikh, Yadalae.
The current date in game is: Aedaira the 17th, Irilakh, of the year 200 Vaes.
Everyone else has been rolling for their date of birth. It's 1d8, re-roll on an 8, and that's your birth month. If it's the last month of the year then roll 1d53, otherwise roll 1d52 to determine day of birth. Then subtract your age of your character from 200 and that's the year in Vaes you were born.
Aquariel disembarks from the ship somewhat reluctantly. Taking in the moist air of the docks, she looks around, trying to decide where to go. She has learned that inns are often a good place to begin in a new place. Resolutely she heads down the dock toward land, seeking an in or a tavern.
As you move through the crowds and into the city proper, you come across a location that looks somewhat promising. The signage out front reads The Clueless Navigator Tavern & Sultry Djiin Inn. The entire building is decorated in fishermen's netting and seashells, there's a hearty smell that wafts out from within, and the sound of quiet laughter and faint music. The building itself has to be at least three floors tall, promising plenty of rooms and plenty of patrons to speak to.
Aquariel felt a spark of hope rise up inside her. The The Clueless Navigator Tavern & Sultry Djiin Inn had a promising name. Dare she hope to find one of her own people inside? She entered, looking for a spot to sit.
If Aquariel sees any water genasi patrons, she will try to sit near them, but not approach them directly yet. Otherwise she'll look for a spot that lets her be relatively inconspicuous while also letting her listen to the surrounding conversations and get a feel for the place.
Settling into the seat she found, Aquariel hopes they have fish stew on the menu--at a price she can afford--and a decent ale. As she waits for the server to find her, she listens to the conversations around her and ponders her next step.
The Captain peers at them, and around him the men he was talking with turn their attention to the two of you. He hums to himself in thought, and then nods.
"I see," the Captain says. "At least you have the good grace to come clean, now." He eyes both of you up and down, then turns his gaze towards Bishop. "The Domain of Life, you say?" Something about his gaze is unnerving to say the least, as if he were judging you. "With your ancestry...hm. Get yourself a hat of disguise or something, boy. You're a bit more...devilish than the others."
He turns toward Ulrich next, gaze just as sharp and unnerving as when it was on Bishop. It too feels like a judgement, like he holds the weight of your life within his hands. "No papers, not from the area? No...not with those looks." With that the Captain sighs. "Very well then. Papers for the both of you I can do. However...I'll need some information first. Names, dates of birth, ages, city or township that you belong to, next of kin...the standard, really."
Bishop nods."Thank you sir, I will tell what I know of my past, unfortunately it is not much. I was abandoned at a young age by my parents, who could not stand to raise a monster. So my birth name and birth date are lost to me. I believe I am around 17, and as far as my name goes, I go by Bishop, it is more of an aspiration than a title.My last name is Drexull, this was the name of my friend who passed. I've taken on his name as a way to keep him close with me on my adventures. I belong to no city currently, but I am eager to find a place to call home. As far as next of kin goes, I wish I knew. Bishop's voice starts to break a little as he is overwhelmed with emotion. He has never had to say all these out loud, much less to another person. He realizes just how alone he is in the world.
Aelar makes his way into the Immoral Wench and looks around for Rheim.
Rheim is not that hard to spot among the crowd of patrons to the Immoral Wench, several being sailors and merchant shipmen from the seas who normally frequented The Rusty Anchor. Rheim herself stands at a tall six feet, overseeing a brawling ring with a closed off expression. She's dressed in a modest pants and tunic, arms crossed. Occasionally her gaze will drift around, eye the patrons, search for any potential rowdy clients. She is obviously a coastal woman, going by her stocky nature and deeply tanned skin, but there is something about her that instantly draws attention. Something that screams 'danger!'
Aelar makes his way through the Immoral Wench heading straight for Rheim. "Rheim! Hello! It's been a while. How have things been on land? I heard about the Rusty Anchor."
"Oh, pardon me, did I forget to mark my age? Hah! I can be so absent minded you know? Really, just this whole thing with the papers...I was told to go out and be a hero, make the world a better place right? Well I totally forgot to prepare for my journey! I haven't eaten in a week it feels like...or maybe it's true. I can't remember honestly. Anyway I'm 103," he rambled as he scribbled his age on the paper. He noticed the edit to his "income" source but decided not to press the issue.
"I suppose it's been about 9 days since I left the swamps of Iralia...I passed through a town, briefly, can't be too careful with roaming bands of dangerous humans about right? Anyway it was called Oakenhold I believe. I wasn't particularly familiar with it and I tried to keep my head low as I traveled. Can't be too careful as an Elf these days. I'll bet the incident in this city was done by human raiders, attacking the city for plunder and gain, right? The human guards here are probably slaves, made to serve the Elvish Nobles...but I saw a fair amount of Half-Elves coming in....kind of inappropriate to breed with ones slaves but that's none of my business now is it?" He waggles his eyebrows as if he were sharing a bit of extremely juicy gossip.
"So! Now that my papers are in order, shall we set about saving this city from the hives of villainy and scum that pervade it? It's time to make the world a better place, and what better time to start than right now?" He grinned at the Gnome, and flipped his hair back, it cascaded his shoulders in glittering gold as it neatly swept from his face. He was ready for action and heroic deeds. "My magic is extremely powerful, you know. We shouldn't have any problems clearing up a few dozen raiders. However this is your city, so I'll let you take the lead on this. Just tell me what to do! Where you need me most. I'm here to help."
It took a minute but the Captain quickly began to realize that perhaps no, you weren't joking, but merely insane. She grumbles to herself and quickly adjust the date of birth. Aedaira the 8th, 97 Vaes she notes down, and then taps her lip to think. "Oakenhold? Ah, so Rwendia then." She quickly scribbles the new locations down, and then frowns at the visitation section. After careful study of you she marks temporary, and then hands them over.
"These are travel papers," she explains carefully, but with a bit of a sneer. "Keep them on you, Mr. il-Vec. Any major city or port of hub will require them." She hands the papers over, and then provides a grimace of a smile. "Now as to the incident...why don't you go and. Ah. Visit one of the Colleges." Not her problem, she figured. Let one of the damned mages deal with you. "Center of the city. Big Crystal Spire area."
"Ah thank you for your assistance in securing these papers and the right direction to go. I deeply appreciate it," Angelus takes the papers and tucks them away in his traveling robe where they'll be safe from weather and sticky fingers and promptly turns about and walks out the door. He looks around for the Big Crystal Spire area, and upon locating it with his eyes, begins to travel in a straight line toward that direction.
Listening to the tiefling tell his information first, Ulrich thinks deeply on his own life, or more importantly at the moment, how to put it into words without raising too many questions. It occurs to him how odd it is to hear someone else recount their own life - Ulrich had never bothered to think much about the people outside his home, or where they'd come from. To hear someone else speak so openly about the hardships that had happened to them, or of their lack of a place to belong, it puts Ulrich on edge in a way. He wonders briefly if there is a reason for this, if such tragedies are simply so common in this world or if there is a reason he has found himself alongside this individual. Ulrich snaps out of his concerns once the tiefling finishes speaking, realizing he himself will have to provide similar information now. "Ah, yes, I... I am Ulrich Durst," even saying his own surname fills him with dread, afraid someone will identify his origins, "I hail from the Loishpol area." Loishpol will work just fine, he thinks, given his proper village's lack of monicker and his own reluctance to specify it anyway. "I am nineteen years of age. Born on the 27th of Phaestira, year 181 Vaes." Foggy as his knowledge of certain things may have been, Ulrich has no difficulty identifying his own birth information, that was one thing his small village had kept a very good record of. The last detail he says with a noticeably solemn voice, "I... I too have no next of kin."
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Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
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Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
Wilkas returns to the cafe he had taken a break at before looking for Kella. Where was she? He looks at the sky to gauge how much longer before he has to go to his parents' estate as he contemplates asking someone about Kella.
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Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
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Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
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Still another 3 hours or so until he had anywhere special to be. Wilkas decides that he may as well ask a waitress or waiter who comes by, "Could you tell me the state of affairs of the Tholins family? More specifically of their daughter, Kella?"
Do you have difficulty fitting everything you want into your signature? Then check out the Extended Signature thread!
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Brash approaches the half-elf then stands in a somewhat attention remembering his military background.
"Excuse me sir" he says in a low calm voice. "I am Brash of the Hillmen clan and formerly of the Draak army. Is there some way that I and my axe can be of assistance?" He tries to hold his form and posture to look like a good and loyal soldier boy. "I would like to gain access to this fair city and if papers need to be earned then I only need to be shown a direction."
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
As a note: There are 365 days in a year. There are 7 months in a year. 6 of those months have 52 days, the last month being 53. The weeks are 8 days long.
The months in order are: Phaestira, Similaera, Aedaira, Railora, Raelis, Tyelis, Aedlis.
Days of the Week: Rithe, Eodaira, Leaphos, Irilakh, Raena, Mistae, Phasrikh, Yadalae.
The current date in game is: Aedaira the 17th, Irilakh, of the year 200 Vaes.
Everyone else has been rolling for their date of birth. It's 1d8, re-roll on an 8, and that's your birth month. If it's the last month of the year then roll 1d53, otherwise roll 1d52 to determine day of birth. Then subtract your age of your character from 200 and that's the year in Vaes you were born.
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Wilkas accepts her offer of a drink. Quiet since Angos'lale, huh? Well, I certainly hope Kella is ok.
"Thank you. For both the drink and the information. They didn't suffer any losses, did they?"
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If Aquariel sees any water genasi patrons, she will try to sit near them, but not approach them directly yet. Otherwise she'll look for a spot that lets her be relatively inconspicuous while also letting her listen to the surrounding conversations and get a feel for the place.
Settling into the seat she found, Aquariel hopes they have fish stew on the menu--at a price she can afford--and a decent ale. As she waits for the server to find her, she listens to the conversations around her and ponders her next step.
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Aelar makes his way through the Immoral Wench heading straight for Rheim. "Rheim! Hello! It's been a while. How have things been on land? I heard about the Rusty Anchor."
Listening to the tiefling tell his information first, Ulrich thinks deeply on his own life, or more importantly at the moment, how to put it into words without raising too many questions. It occurs to him how odd it is to hear someone else recount their own life - Ulrich had never bothered to think much about the people outside his home, or where they'd come from. To hear someone else speak so openly about the hardships that had happened to them, or of their lack of a place to belong, it puts Ulrich on edge in a way. He wonders briefly if there is a reason for this, if such tragedies are simply so common in this world or if there is a reason he has found himself alongside this individual.
Ulrich snaps out of his concerns once the tiefling finishes speaking, realizing he himself will have to provide similar information now. "Ah, yes, I... I am Ulrich Durst," even saying his own surname fills him with dread, afraid someone will identify his origins, "I hail from the Loishpol area." Loishpol will work just fine, he thinks, given his proper village's lack of monicker and his own reluctance to specify it anyway.
"I am nineteen years of age. Born on the 27th of Phaestira, year 181 Vaes." Foggy as his knowledge of certain things may have been, Ulrich has no difficulty identifying his own birth information, that was one thing his small village had kept a very good record of. The last detail he says with a noticeably solemn voice, "I... I too have no next of kin."