Ten years ago: A prominent hunch aids a hooded woman's cowl in obscuring her facial features. To her back is a roaring, green-flamed hearth, outlining the figure's movements in an illumination of green. The scent of incense practically hangs in the hazy air. The cowled figure slowly and deliberately reaches for an item within a pocket nestled in the folds of her purple-green clothing, producing a twelve-card deck. She palms the cards and spreads them in an arc before laying each one down in a precise, learned manner.
To her front - across the small table - is another figure. Tall. Male. Wearing a brown, wooden mask with white stripes. He selects three cards from the twelve without hesitation. The woman asks for him to read the three cards in a low, hoarse, age-worn voice. The man complies.
The fire crackles onwards as each falls silent. The woman, satisfied with what she witnessed, gathers the cards and returns them into the depths of her clothing. The man inquires what the reading means - the woman neglects to respond. The masked main raises his voice - again to no reaction. The man rises in anger - before clutching his throat. He staggers, gasping for breath - the woman remains motionless, watching. The man falls to the ground and spasms until his muscles can no longer support movement, foam leaking from the mask's mouth. The woman smiles from under her hood.
Now: The brilliant Zavas tribe is where a fateful group of adventurers meet for the very first time. A bizarre display of magical homes entangled with the natural Redwood trees that cover the forest mixed with Imperial technology, the city is truly one of contrast. In the Central Grove, the place of business and luxury, the trees elongate, thicken, and reach taller; spiraling bits of stairs can be seen on the largest ones, and windows seem to be carved into the trees, bloated out of shape as the tree seems to grow on. Vines wrap the surrounding vicinity, which is brightly lit by various magical torches and lanterns that hang everywhere you can see. On the ground are various more Imperial-looking buildings; they seem newer and appear cheaply made, creating an odd and unpleasant blemish on the gorgeousness of the tribe. Moving away from the Central Grove lie the Lesser Forests - eclectic treehouses that seem to be impossibly suspended crowd the treetops and canopy, comprising the majority of civilian life; the alleyways and slums of the village seem to be mushroom-infested, rotting in the dark at the bottom where small amounts of lamps and haphazardly put together buildings serve as a living place for the poor. At the North Woods lies the obvious impact of the Imperium - the trees level out and become more organized. More traditional - but no less gorgeous - houses and factories can be seen, billowing smoke from the various goods they are producing from the Wilderness’s natural resources. Uncomfortable-looking Imperial infantry patrol the area with some difficulty, foreign to the nature of the forest city. People go about their day as they please; wearing traditional Orange-Green clothing; they give the party little thought as they hurry about their day. Children laugh and play, swinging on loose vines; businesspeople rush up and down the stairs like the many ants that dot the surrounding.
The time is nearing six in the afternoon. For one reason or another, your character has heard of a job being offered to random misfits to clear out slimes infesting a patch of farmland in the woods nearby. Enter the Wormswort Inn - a ramshackle dive carved in the center of a massive tree, it's a veritable jungle gym to navigate. Multiple raised platforms in the shape of oyster mushrooms replace traditional tables; a pulley system of vines ferries drinks every which way rather than having servers climb up and down to reach each platform. You have been instructed to meet a Dwarf named Flinn who oversees the aree you have been hired to clear. Take this moment to familiarize yourself with the characters and setting. Please, choose a role color attributed to your character to speak in - it simply makes for an easier time rereading.
Current objective; meet the party! Post your character introductions and roleplay amongst yourselves to get a good party dynamic going before we're launched into the first mission!
"Ugh, ugh! Ahhh." You see a forest gnome wearing a purple robe with red accents, grunting and straining to climb on the vines and going from one platform to another around the Wormswort Inn. He frequently brings out a folded notebook, consulting its pages. He pauses to rest on one landing, brings out his pen and starts to make a drawing, a map along with notes. Erbert Jenkins is no sword swinger, he is barely strong enough to lift himself out of bed every day. It is obvious that he has learned how to use his mind and his powers to accomplish what his muscles cannot. "Hoppy! What are you doing? Can't you see I'm busy here? Find the dwarf! His name is Flinn. How the hell am I to know what he looks like? Just take a few circles and see if you can spot any odd looking dwarves, then come back here, would you?" Erbert sends Hoppy the owl up in the air, circling the tree, looking and trying to spot anyone who could be this particular dwarf. Erbert's head tilts back and his eyes roll back in his head slightly, looking through Hoppy's eyes. As his eyes are looking through other eyes, his right hand instinctually gathers a bolt of fire, and then dissipates it, repeating this over and over again, as if out of habit. His left hand holds to the crystal around his neck. "Where is everyone? He said there would be others.."
Nevara had only entered the hybrid city the night before, breaking out of the treeline during the night to find a number of settled trunks and platforms that others rested in. Drawn to the warmth of life, she had hidden within the gap of one such home under a tree, getting a warm rest within the dried leaves and moss. Come morning, the young girl wandered throughout the tribe, having small interactions with various peoples who seemed to recognize something regal about her...yet still sad, offering her some clothes to cover her otherwise basic clothing. She gave her thanks before turning to play with some of the children running around, curious about their games and little adventures. She found it warming to see how others lived their youth. She asked the children and the passing adults many questions about their lives, happy to hear their answers, regardless of their truth. Eventually, the distant sun began to show signs of lowering beyond the treetops, and the children were called to dinner, giving a faint smile she'd wave them off before wandering about to look for some sign of what she should do for the night. As she passed by the Wormswort Inn, smelling the fresh food inside, and felt her stomach grumble in complaint. Pouting a bit, she glanced about the exterior of the dive bar, not thinking much of it before entering in.
Stepping into the Wormswort Inn, Nevara glanced about just as a gnome who resembled (in the faintest sense) some of those she was familiar with began speaking loudly. She paused a moment, looking at him from the entrance before affirming to herself that she didn't know them, and cocked her head curiously as his words drew her curiosity. Walking over to the man, she reached up to poke his shoulder lightly, getting his attention before cocking her head at him, "....are you looking for someone? Why?" She squatted down a little to make her height closer to his, getting down to eye level as she held her knees with one hand.
Nevara is a young human female, standing with a petite figure at 5'2" and a pale complexion. Her raven black hair and golden eyes are made less sharp by the warmth and kindness that she attempts to offer with a faint, awkward smile. Her clothes are simple, a black, loose shirt and shorts covered by adjusted by leathers and covered by a brown scarf and shirt.
For countless generations my people lived in the icy glacial wastelands far away. Our tribe is called the Vika. My homeland was nothing but miles of rock, ice - and, of course, the great subglacial volcano. Our tribal society was simple and we were happy. At a young age, I trained, I learned to fight, I learned to read. I was not a big girl, no, not like the great warrior athletes of my tribe - I was smaller than them, and pretty, like a viking princess. I was more interested in exploring, knowing, and learning. When I became a young adult, I passed the trials of knowledge and joined an expedition to explore the volcano. It's activity had been increasing and my people made a decision, based on science and curiosity. I bid farewell to my parents and joined the journey. We spent days under the blue white ice and rock when something terrible happened. The volcano erupted. The entire expedition, including myself, was killed.
That is what was told. I do not remember any of this.
When someone from the Zavas tribe found me ten years later, I was completely covered in a black dried tar that was hard to remove, like a thin shell. I was found aimlessly wandering the Wilderness naked, like a zombie, my memory erased, my possessions gone. The Zavas tribe were shocked to see me, and I spent days being cleaned and healed. Eventually, I recovered everything except my memory. With no recollection of my former self, the Zavas re-educated me in their ways and I became one of them. I learned to live in the forest, and about the Imperium. What was most ominous was that I had not aged a singled day since my death. Even thought I had no memory of my former life, deep inside me something was changing. Something was different. I could feel it.
Katrin is a pale, tall (about 6 feet), attractive tribal looking human female. She has brown braided hair, blue eyes, and is very pale. She is not a hulking muscular woman, more on the slender, fit, sporty side, and by all means is quiet, curious, and pretty. Her body has purple tribal skin art that's painted on, not tattooed.
My adopted parents told me about how things work in the world, how to earn my keep, and be a productive member of the tribe. So, when I heard of a job being offered by a person named Flinn, I headed to the Wormswort Inn. Six in the afternoon, I step inside. I scan the area for a dwarf, nearly hitting my head on the natural door, i'm so tall. I make a sheepish face, recompose myself, and keep looking.
"What do you mean 'wait'?"Pause. "I know, I know, but it's the first opportunity to do anything I found in a while." Pause. "Shh. Enough. I need to find that Flinn."
The person who didn't seem to speak with anyone in particular was tall. Well, he was short, only 3'2", but it was considered tall for a Halfling. His eyes are dark-brown and his skin a tone of beige. His hair black and short, but it didn't look as if it was cut by a proficient hand. Rather, most likely, it was done by one of the two scimitars attached to his belt. He wears an old-looking studded leather armour, though its brown colour doesn't seem to have worn out at all. On his back is a small pack, out of which you can see half of a shortbow. Other than that, he doesn't look special in any way.
He looks around, trying to find a dwarf. He remembered what dwarves looked like... more or less. However, even if there were any dwarves here, how would he know whicj one it is? "Hey lady." He eventually says, looking up at the woman almost four times taller than himself. "Can you move? You're blocking the door." He says with no manners whatsoever. "And, while you're at it, can you use your great height and scout me a dwarf? It's hard to find people when most I can see is the bottom part of their table."
"Hey lady." He eventually says, looking up at the woman almost four times taller than himself."Can you move? You're blocking the door."He says with no manners whatsoever."And, while you're at it, can you use your great height and scout me a dwarf? It's hard to find people when most I can see is the bottom part of their table."
Katrin looked down, and stepped one foot over to the left. Then, he spoke again. What was this? He, too, was looking for a dwarf.
"You are looking for Flint, too?"she said. Her voice was a combination of husky, soft, yet feminine. She did not sound like she was native to these parts, nor look it.
Some people try to "see" and walk. It is a foolish thing to do. All of a sudden, the above described gnome walks into the back of the halfling. "Oh, excuse me!" HIs eyes roll back down and his face flushes. He had been seeing through his owl and trying to walk again. Foolish, could have walked off a ledge! "Did I hear you say Flinn? I was told to meet him here too. My name is Erbert Jenkins." He steps aside and looks at the tall beautiful woman in front of him, appraising her. He looks back and forth between her and the halfling. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"I am looking for Flinn." Iver confirms. Suddenly, he moves sideways, allowing the gnome to pass through the space he just stood in, until the gnome hits the woman. He couldn't have seen the gnome right behind him. Maybe he heard him? Or maybe it was just a coincidence.
"My name is Iver, if that's what you ask for. And for you, Erbert, may I suggest you watch where you're going? You weren't born with eyes for nothing." He looks at the two figures in front of him. One looked as if he wouldn't even be able to raise a sword. The other looked strong, in a way. He wonders why they might be searching for the dwarf. "What? I know, I know." He seems to say to neither the gnome nor the woman, but then he turns to the tall one. "Well, can you see him?"
Being ignored, Nevara blinks as she's left standing by where the halfling was when her stomach grumbles again. Rubbing it a little, she walks over to the bar and waves, "Hello. Have you seen someone named Flinn? Those people are looking for him...oh! And may I please have something to eat?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Slowly but surely, another figure makes her way towards the Wormswort Inn. Clad in a simple but immaculately tailored, black overcoat with a silver embroidery, Thea paces to the gigantic trunk of the tree. Her head shifts from side to side as she gazes at her surroundings, a childish spark arising in her eyes whenever she admires one of the Zavas's housings, but it vanishing just as quickly whenever she spots an imperial building blemishing the scenery, causing an unintentional but nevertheless visible wrinkling of her nose. As she reaches the tree, she puts a hand on its bark and looks upwards in a futile attempt to make out its crown. Now having closed the distance, her facial features clearly betray her elfish origin, although her ears are covered by a tripartite braid of silver hair. Strands of violet and vermilion tones lance the silver that fades into the same colors towards the tips of her hair, and now that her head turns towards the entrance of the Inn, her eyes curiously display the same interplay of duochromy.
With her subnose leading the way, she approaches the group of people that block the way inside. Overhearing bits and pieces of the conversation, she raises an eyebrow, contemplating, and, as a women leaves the small crowed, cracks a smirks. The next second she vanishes, only to reappear a couple of steps behind the woman and then proceeds to follow her to the bar. The waits for her to order, visibly perking up at the mention of 'Flinn'. "I'll try a glass of wine, if you please..." she adds with a gentle smile, whenever a barkeep shows up. Her hands in gloves matching the black and silver style of her overcoat, she places some coins on the counter to pay for the wine and, perhaps the meal too, before turning to the woman. "Are you too looking for the dwarf? We might have a common interest then. I'm Thea, pleased to make your acquaintance." she says with a nod, before turning to the disarrayed inside of the Inn, and begins to scan the consortium of 'tables' for any dwarven figures.
"Did I hear you say Flinn? I was told to meet him here too. My name is Erbert Jenkins." He steps aside and looks at the tall beautiful woman in front of him, appraising her. He looks back and forth between her and the halfling. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"Yes." She smiles softly. "I am Katrin."
Katrin was observing for now. She was quiet and despite her height, did not seem intimidating or imposing. It seems like others were looking for Flint. Perhaps they could work at this job together?
"Are you too looking for the dwarf? We might have a common interest then. I'm Thea, pleased to make your acquaintance."she says with a nod, before turning to the disarrayed inside of the Inn, and begins to scan the consortium of 'tables' for any dwarven figures.
If Thea was talking to her, which she believed she was, Katrin, too, smiled softly and said her name as well. "Yes. Katrin. Hello."
So this is the group I'm going to be adventuring with huh.... Herrena thought amusedly to herself as she looked over the eclectic group milling about the bar. I suppose every adventurer can't be Heyward the Brash, she added on before laughing to herself quietly.
Sitting alone at a table to the far side of the room, a small cup in her hands and her feet on the table as she comfortably leaned back, Herrena blended in with the crowd around here; a habit from her current line of work. She wore black pants and boots with a hooded & sleeveless black leather vest highlighted with gold trim and embroidery; her hood was currently up. She wore gold jewelry on her neck, wrist and fingers - though whether it was real or costume jewelry was impossible to say - and a royal blue and gold sash across her waist. Besides her on the ground was her neatly organized pack and her gleaming twin shortswords, one with a hilt of gold and the other a royal blue .
As she watched, she let her hood fall to her shoulders to reveal her face, not that she was particularly hiding it. Young and attractive with brown eyes and long black curls that reached just past her shoulders, she wouldn't have seemed out of place at a formal function with a simple costume change. Deciding she could wait on the introductions till she had to, she stayed where she was and waited for the inevitable commotion to begin when the dwarven fellow overseeing the contract made their grand appearance. This is definitively not like how they make it out to be in the stories... she thought to herself as she waited. But then again, when had anything in her life ever gone the way it was supposed to?
Katrin, quiet, mostly up to this point, looks around at all the people shorter than her. Go on. Don't be shy. "You all mentioned you're looking for Flint. Are you here for the job as well?"she asked.
Nevara looked between the elven woman who had spoken to her, and the much larger and athletic-looking one, cocking her head in pondering what stories they held. She gave a light smile as he spoke, "I wasn't before, but maybe I will now. Sounds like it might be interesting..." She gazed into the elven woman's eyes, before speaking her name to her, into her mind.
(to thea)"A pleasure to meet you Thea, I am called Nevara. May your life find you well."
Erbert starts rocking up and down on his feet, excitement obviously in his face. He whips out his notebook and pen, and starts to take down names. "Let's see, Katrin, Herrena, Thea, Iver. All looking for Flinn, yes? Righto, very good, very good. Me too. I'm sorry..." (he taps Nevara on the shoulder), "I'm sorry, I missed your name. Mine is Erbert, Erbert Jenkins. Pleased to meet you. I'm sorry that I missed you earlier, I heard what you said. Was looking through Hoppy's eyes and damn near walked into a post, and then I did walk into old Iver over there. I'm keeping a journal, a journal of sorts, I like to chronicle everything. Your story could be told one day! Or something valuable may be learned... for posterity. What is your name?" He readies his pen...
"......" Nevara stares at both Erbert, and his pen for a long moment, a scrunched-up look on her face as she ponders over him. After a few more moments, she reaches up to grab his pen and says plainly, "No writing. I don't need a story." She then locks eyes with him and speaks into his mind.
(to Erbert) "You can call me Nevara, and I would appreciate it if you didn't record my name Erbert."
Erbert tilts his head sideways, then tries (and fails) to send his thoughts back to you. Instead he speaks in a low voice, to Nevara alone, "Hmm. I understand. I hope I didn't offend you. This is just what I do. Can I... draw a symbol for you, that would represent you (known only to you and me)? What would your symbol be?"
(Note: typo in the original first post has been fixed. You are hired to exterminate slimes. Not Dwarves.)
The hustle and bustle of the Inn gradually increases in fervor as the hour stretches on. Patrons of all races and kinds populate the bar; a pair of tieflings enjoy pumpkin wine in a loft above the party. A cluster of halfling children zip overhead along the vine system intended to carry drinks to the multileveled tavern, raining all sorts of alcohol over the patrons below! The atmosphere is generally relaxed and pleasant - notably, nearly all the patrons within are of the Zavas. A group of masked druids oversees the events, each member clutching a steaming mug of pumpkin cider. Pumpkins are popular in the Zavas.
The dimly lit interior - only illuminated by the glow of luminous moss and fireflies - is pierced by a shout. "Oy! Flinn here!" a voice booms through the wooden interior. The patrons clubbing down below pay what appears to be a short, balding Dwarf of around two hundred years wading through the cluster of people beneath. He eventually frowns and reluctantly clambers atop a nearly vacant table and shoos off some patrons generally enjoying a drink. He cups his hands and shouts - "This is Flinn! I'm lookin' fer the cluster o' advent'rers I've been promised!" He swivels around and plops himself down in a seat, apparently exhausted by the procedure. He remedies his discomfort by downing no small amount of ale.
Coming Soon:
Cataclysmic Convergences
More game info coming. Don't post yet.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
(Original, I know.)
Ten years ago:
A prominent hunch aids a hooded woman's cowl in obscuring her facial features. To her back is a roaring, green-flamed hearth, outlining the figure's movements in an illumination of green. The scent of incense practically hangs in the hazy air. The cowled figure slowly and deliberately reaches for an item within a pocket nestled in the folds of her purple-green clothing, producing a twelve-card deck. She palms the cards and spreads them in an arc before laying each one down in a precise, learned manner.
To her front - across the small table - is another figure. Tall. Male. Wearing a brown, wooden mask with white stripes. He selects three cards from the twelve without hesitation. The woman asks for him to read the three cards in a low, hoarse, age-worn voice. The man complies.
The fire crackles onwards as each falls silent. The woman, satisfied with what she witnessed, gathers the cards and returns them into the depths of her clothing. The man inquires what the reading means - the woman neglects to respond. The masked main raises his voice - again to no reaction. The man rises in anger - before clutching his throat. He staggers, gasping for breath - the woman remains motionless, watching. The man falls to the ground and spasms until his muscles can no longer support movement, foam leaking from the mask's mouth. The woman smiles from under her hood.
Now:
The brilliant Zavas tribe is where a fateful group of adventurers meet for the very first time. A bizarre display of magical homes entangled with the natural Redwood trees that cover the forest mixed with Imperial technology, the city is truly one of contrast. In the Central Grove, the place of business and luxury, the trees elongate, thicken, and reach taller; spiraling bits of stairs can be seen on the largest ones, and windows seem to be carved into the trees, bloated out of shape as the tree seems to grow on. Vines wrap the surrounding vicinity, which is brightly lit by various magical torches and lanterns that hang everywhere you can see. On the ground are various more Imperial-looking buildings; they seem newer and appear cheaply made, creating an odd and unpleasant blemish on the gorgeousness of the tribe. Moving away from the Central Grove lie the Lesser Forests - eclectic treehouses that seem to be impossibly suspended crowd the treetops and canopy, comprising the majority of civilian life; the alleyways and slums of the village seem to be mushroom-infested, rotting in the dark at the bottom where small amounts of lamps and haphazardly put together buildings serve as a living place for the poor. At the North Woods lies the obvious impact of the Imperium - the trees level out and become more organized. More traditional - but no less gorgeous - houses and factories can be seen, billowing smoke from the various goods they are producing from the Wilderness’s natural resources. Uncomfortable-looking Imperial infantry patrol the area with some difficulty, foreign to the nature of the forest city. People go about their day as they please; wearing traditional Orange-Green clothing; they give the party little thought as they hurry about their day. Children laugh and play, swinging on loose vines; businesspeople rush up and down the stairs like the many ants that dot the surrounding.
The time is nearing six in the afternoon. For one reason or another, your character has heard of a job being offered to random misfits to clear out slimes infesting a patch of farmland in the woods nearby. Enter the Wormswort Inn - a ramshackle dive carved in the center of a massive tree, it's a veritable jungle gym to navigate. Multiple raised platforms in the shape of oyster mushrooms replace traditional tables; a pulley system of vines ferries drinks every which way rather than having servers climb up and down to reach each platform. You have been instructed to meet a Dwarf named Flinn who oversees the aree you have been hired to clear. Take this moment to familiarize yourself with the characters and setting. Please, choose a role color attributed to your character to speak in - it simply makes for an easier time rereading.
Current objective; meet the party! Post your character introductions and roleplay amongst yourselves to get a good party dynamic going before we're launched into the first mission!
"Ugh, ugh! Ahhh." You see a forest gnome wearing a purple robe with red accents, grunting and straining to climb on the vines and going from one platform to another around the Wormswort Inn. He frequently brings out a folded notebook, consulting its pages. He pauses to rest on one landing, brings out his pen and starts to make a drawing, a map along with notes. Erbert Jenkins is no sword swinger, he is barely strong enough to lift himself out of bed every day. It is obvious that he has learned how to use his mind and his powers to accomplish what his muscles cannot. "Hoppy! What are you doing? Can't you see I'm busy here? Find the dwarf! His name is Flinn. How the hell am I to know what he looks like? Just take a few circles and see if you can spot any odd looking dwarves, then come back here, would you?" Erbert sends Hoppy the owl up in the air, circling the tree, looking and trying to spot anyone who could be this particular dwarf. Erbert's head tilts back and his eyes roll back in his head slightly, looking through Hoppy's eyes. As his eyes are looking through other eyes, his right hand instinctually gathers a bolt of fire, and then dissipates it, repeating this over and over again, as if out of habit. His left hand holds to the crystal around his neck. "Where is everyone? He said there would be others.."
Nevara had only entered the hybrid city the night before, breaking out of the treeline during the night to find a number of settled trunks and platforms that others rested in. Drawn to the warmth of life, she had hidden within the gap of one such home under a tree, getting a warm rest within the dried leaves and moss. Come morning, the young girl wandered throughout the tribe, having small interactions with various peoples who seemed to recognize something regal about her...yet still sad, offering her some clothes to cover her otherwise basic clothing. She gave her thanks before turning to play with some of the children running around, curious about their games and little adventures. She found it warming to see how others lived their youth. She asked the children and the passing adults many questions about their lives, happy to hear their answers, regardless of their truth. Eventually, the distant sun began to show signs of lowering beyond the treetops, and the children were called to dinner, giving a faint smile she'd wave them off before wandering about to look for some sign of what she should do for the night. As she passed by the Wormswort Inn, smelling the fresh food inside, and felt her stomach grumble in complaint. Pouting a bit, she glanced about the exterior of the dive bar, not thinking much of it before entering in.
Stepping into the Wormswort Inn, Nevara glanced about just as a gnome who resembled (in the faintest sense) some of those she was familiar with began speaking loudly. She paused a moment, looking at him from the entrance before affirming to herself that she didn't know them, and cocked her head curiously as his words drew her curiosity. Walking over to the man, she reached up to poke his shoulder lightly, getting his attention before cocking her head at him, "....are you looking for someone? Why?" She squatted down a little to make her height closer to his, getting down to eye level as she held her knees with one hand.
Nevara is a young human female, standing with a petite figure at 5'2" and a pale complexion. Her raven black hair and golden eyes are made less sharp by the warmth and kindness that she attempts to offer with a faint, awkward smile. Her clothes are simple, a black, loose shirt and shorts covered by adjusted by leathers and covered by a brown scarf and shirt.
My name is Katrin. (Ka'TREEN)
For countless generations my people lived in the icy glacial wastelands far away. Our tribe is called the Vika. My homeland was nothing but miles of rock, ice - and, of course, the great subglacial volcano. Our tribal society was simple and we were happy. At a young age, I trained, I learned to fight, I learned to read. I was not a big girl, no, not like the great warrior athletes of my tribe - I was smaller than them, and pretty, like a viking princess. I was more interested in exploring, knowing, and learning. When I became a young adult, I passed the trials of knowledge and joined an expedition to explore the volcano. It's activity had been increasing and my people made a decision, based on science and curiosity. I bid farewell to my parents and joined the journey. We spent days under the blue white ice and rock when something terrible happened. The volcano erupted. The entire expedition, including myself, was killed.
That is what was told. I do not remember any of this.
When someone from the Zavas tribe found me ten years later, I was completely covered in a black dried tar that was hard to remove, like a thin shell. I was found aimlessly wandering the Wilderness naked, like a zombie, my memory erased, my possessions gone. The Zavas tribe were shocked to see me, and I spent days being cleaned and healed. Eventually, I recovered everything except my memory. With no recollection of my former self, the Zavas re-educated me in their ways and I became one of them. I learned to live in the forest, and about the Imperium. What was most ominous was that I had not aged a singled day since my death. Even thought I had no memory of my former life, deep inside me something was changing. Something was different. I could feel it.
Katrin is a pale, tall (about 6 feet), attractive tribal looking human female. She has brown braided hair, blue eyes, and is very pale. She is not a hulking muscular woman, more on the slender, fit, sporty side, and by all means is quiet, curious, and pretty. Her body has purple tribal skin art that's painted on, not tattooed.
My adopted parents told me about how things work in the world, how to earn my keep, and be a productive member of the tribe. So, when I heard of a job being offered by a person named Flinn, I headed to the Wormswort Inn. Six in the afternoon, I step inside. I scan the area for a dwarf, nearly hitting my head on the natural door, i'm so tall. I make a sheepish face, recompose myself, and keep looking.
"What do you mean 'wait'?" Pause. "I know, I know, but it's the first opportunity to do anything I found in a while." Pause. "Shh. Enough. I need to find that Flinn."
The person who didn't seem to speak with anyone in particular was tall. Well, he was short, only 3'2", but it was considered tall for a Halfling. His eyes are dark-brown and his skin a tone of beige. His hair black and short, but it didn't look as if it was cut by a proficient hand. Rather, most likely, it was done by one of the two scimitars attached to his belt. He wears an old-looking studded leather armour, though its brown colour doesn't seem to have worn out at all. On his back is a small pack, out of which you can see half of a shortbow. Other than that, he doesn't look special in any way.
He looks around, trying to find a dwarf. He remembered what dwarves looked like... more or less. However, even if there were any dwarves here, how would he know whicj one it is? "Hey lady." He eventually says, looking up at the woman almost four times taller than himself. "Can you move? You're blocking the door." He says with no manners whatsoever. "And, while you're at it, can you use your great height and scout me a dwarf? It's hard to find people when most I can see is the bottom part of their table."
Varielky | Emma
"Hey lady." He eventually says, looking up at the woman almost four times taller than himself. "Can you move? You're blocking the door." He says with no manners whatsoever. "And, while you're at it, can you use your great height and scout me a dwarf? It's hard to find people when most I can see is the bottom part of their table."
Katrin looked down, and stepped one foot over to the left. Then, he spoke again. What was this? He, too, was looking for a dwarf.
"You are looking for Flint, too?" she said. Her voice was a combination of husky, soft, yet feminine. She did not sound like she was native to these parts, nor look it.
Some people try to "see" and walk. It is a foolish thing to do. All of a sudden, the above described gnome walks into the back of the halfling. "Oh, excuse me!" HIs eyes roll back down and his face flushes. He had been seeing through his owl and trying to walk again. Foolish, could have walked off a ledge! "Did I hear you say Flinn? I was told to meet him here too. My name is Erbert Jenkins." He steps aside and looks at the tall beautiful woman in front of him, appraising her. He looks back and forth between her and the halfling. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"I am looking for Flinn." Iver confirms. Suddenly, he moves sideways, allowing the gnome to pass through the space he just stood in, until the gnome hits the woman. He couldn't have seen the gnome right behind him. Maybe he heard him? Or maybe it was just a coincidence.
"My name is Iver, if that's what you ask for. And for you, Erbert, may I suggest you watch where you're going? You weren't born with eyes for nothing." He looks at the two figures in front of him. One looked as if he wouldn't even be able to raise a sword. The other looked strong, in a way. He wonders why they might be searching for the dwarf. "What? I know, I know." He seems to say to neither the gnome nor the woman, but then he turns to the tall one. "Well, can you see him?"
Varielky | Emma
Being ignored, Nevara blinks as she's left standing by where the halfling was when her stomach grumbles again. Rubbing it a little, she walks over to the bar and waves, "Hello. Have you seen someone named Flinn? Those people are looking for him...oh! And may I please have something to eat?"
Slowly but surely, another figure makes her way towards the Wormswort Inn. Clad in a simple but immaculately tailored, black overcoat with a silver embroidery, Thea paces to the gigantic trunk of the tree. Her head shifts from side to side as she gazes at her surroundings, a childish spark arising in her eyes whenever she admires one of the Zavas's housings, but it vanishing just as quickly whenever she spots an imperial building blemishing the scenery, causing an unintentional but nevertheless visible wrinkling of her nose. As she reaches the tree, she puts a hand on its bark and looks upwards in a futile attempt to make out its crown. Now having closed the distance, her facial features clearly betray her elfish origin, although her ears are covered by a tripartite braid of silver hair. Strands of violet and vermilion tones lance the silver that fades into the same colors towards the tips of her hair, and now that her head turns towards the entrance of the Inn, her eyes curiously display the same interplay of duochromy.
With her subnose leading the way, she approaches the group of people that block the way inside. Overhearing bits and pieces of the conversation, she raises an eyebrow, contemplating, and, as a women leaves the small crowed, cracks a smirks. The next second she vanishes, only to reappear a couple of steps behind the woman and then proceeds to follow her to the bar. The waits for her to order, visibly perking up at the mention of 'Flinn'. "I'll try a glass of wine, if you please..." she adds with a gentle smile, whenever a barkeep shows up. Her hands in gloves matching the black and silver style of her overcoat, she places some coins on the counter to pay for the wine and, perhaps the meal too, before turning to the woman. "Are you too looking for the dwarf? We might have a common interest then. I'm Thea, pleased to make your acquaintance." she says with a nod, before turning to the disarrayed inside of the Inn, and begins to scan the consortium of 'tables' for any dwarven figures.
Perception: 9
"Did I hear you say Flinn? I was told to meet him here too. My name is Erbert Jenkins." He steps aside and looks at the tall beautiful woman in front of him, appraising her. He looks back and forth between her and the halfling. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"Yes." She smiles softly. "I am Katrin."
Katrin was observing for now. She was quiet and despite her height, did not seem intimidating or imposing. It seems like others were looking for Flint. Perhaps they could work at this job together?
"Are you too looking for the dwarf? We might have a common interest then. I'm Thea, pleased to make your acquaintance." she says with a nod, before turning to the disarrayed inside of the Inn, and begins to scan the consortium of 'tables' for any dwarven figures.
If Thea was talking to her, which she believed she was, Katrin, too, smiled softly and said her name as well. "Yes. Katrin. Hello."
So this is the group I'm going to be adventuring with huh.... Herrena thought amusedly to herself as she looked over the eclectic group milling about the bar. I suppose every adventurer can't be Heyward the Brash, she added on before laughing to herself quietly.
Sitting alone at a table to the far side of the room, a small cup in her hands and her feet on the table as she comfortably leaned back, Herrena blended in with the crowd around here; a habit from her current line of work. She wore black pants and boots with a hooded & sleeveless black leather vest highlighted with gold trim and embroidery; her hood was currently up. She wore gold jewelry on her neck, wrist and fingers - though whether it was real or costume jewelry was impossible to say - and a royal blue and gold sash across her waist. Besides her on the ground was her neatly organized pack and her gleaming twin shortswords, one with a hilt of gold and the other a royal blue .
As she watched, she let her hood fall to her shoulders to reveal her face, not that she was particularly hiding it. Young and attractive with brown eyes and long black curls that reached just past her shoulders, she wouldn't have seemed out of place at a formal function with a simple costume change. Deciding she could wait on the introductions till she had to, she stayed where she was and waited for the inevitable commotion to begin when the dwarven fellow overseeing the contract made their grand appearance. This is definitively not like how they make it out to be in the stories... she thought to herself as she waited. But then again, when had anything in her life ever gone the way it was supposed to?
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Katrin, quiet, mostly up to this point, looks around at all the people shorter than her. Go on. Don't be shy. "You all mentioned you're looking for Flint. Are you here for the job as well?" she asked.
Nevara looked between the elven woman who had spoken to her, and the much larger and athletic-looking one, cocking her head in pondering what stories they held. She gave a light smile as he spoke, "I wasn't before, but maybe I will now. Sounds like it might be interesting..." She gazed into the elven woman's eyes, before speaking her name to her, into her mind.
(to thea)"A pleasure to meet you Thea, I am called Nevara. May your life find you well."
Erbert starts rocking up and down on his feet, excitement obviously in his face. He whips out his notebook and pen, and starts to take down names. "Let's see, Katrin, Herrena, Thea, Iver. All looking for Flinn, yes? Righto, very good, very good. Me too. I'm sorry..." (he taps Nevara on the shoulder), "I'm sorry, I missed your name. Mine is Erbert, Erbert Jenkins. Pleased to meet you. I'm sorry that I missed you earlier, I heard what you said. Was looking through Hoppy's eyes and damn near walked into a post, and then I did walk into old Iver over there. I'm keeping a journal, a journal of sorts, I like to chronicle everything. Your story could be told one day! Or something valuable may be learned... for posterity. What is your name?" He readies his pen...
"......" Nevara stares at both Erbert, and his pen for a long moment, a scrunched-up look on her face as she ponders over him. After a few more moments, she reaches up to grab his pen and says plainly, "No writing. I don't need a story." She then locks eyes with him and speaks into his mind.
(to Erbert) "You can call me Nevara, and I would appreciate it if you didn't record my name Erbert."
Erbert tilts his head sideways, then tries (and fails) to send his thoughts back to you. Instead he speaks in a low voice, to Nevara alone, "Hmm. I understand. I hope I didn't offend you. This is just what I do. Can I... draw a symbol for you, that would represent you (known only to you and me)? What would your symbol be?"
(Note: typo in the original first post has been fixed. You are hired to exterminate slimes. Not Dwarves.)
The hustle and bustle of the Inn gradually increases in fervor as the hour stretches on. Patrons of all races and kinds populate the bar; a pair of tieflings enjoy pumpkin wine in a loft above the party. A cluster of halfling children zip overhead along the vine system intended to carry drinks to the multileveled tavern, raining all sorts of alcohol over the patrons below! The atmosphere is generally relaxed and pleasant - notably, nearly all the patrons within are of the Zavas. A group of masked druids oversees the events, each member clutching a steaming mug of pumpkin cider. Pumpkins are popular in the Zavas.
The dimly lit interior - only illuminated by the glow of luminous moss and fireflies - is pierced by a shout. "Oy! Flinn here!" a voice booms through the wooden interior. The patrons clubbing down below pay what appears to be a short, balding Dwarf of around two hundred years wading through the cluster of people beneath. He eventually frowns and reluctantly clambers atop a nearly vacant table and shoos off some patrons generally enjoying a drink. He cups his hands and shouts - "This is Flinn! I'm lookin' fer the cluster o' advent'rers I've been promised!" He swivels around and plops himself down in a seat, apparently exhausted by the procedure. He remedies his discomfort by downing no small amount of ale.
Katrin looked at the others. "I believe this is the dwarf we are looking for. He's a short one." she observed innocently.