Karrnath is a nation of grim weather and grimmer people, and home to the maltheistic religion of the Blood of Vol. The Blood of Vol, a religion that believes the gods are cruel who created death to stymie the potential of all beings to become divine, made an alliance with Karrnath during the Last War, a war for succession that consumed the entire continent of Khorvaire. Thanks to this alliance, Karrnath fielded massive legions of undead soldiers powered by the plane of Mabar, the Endless Night. With the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold, the Last War came to an end. Just before the Treaty was signed, the young king of Karrnath, Kaius III, ended the alliance with the BoV, and the undead armies were placed into storage. Now, 2 years after the signing of the Treaty, Karrnath rumbles with unrest. The warlords call Kaius III weak for his pursuit of peace, the Seekers of the Divinity Within (followers of the BoV) have an uneasy tension with other Karrns, the Bloodsail pirates target Karrnathi shipping, and the Order of the Emerald Claw, an ex-Seeker terrorist group, perpetrate horrors across the continent. Karrnath seethes with secrets and tension, as alliances are built and destroyed, and a few heroes could make all the difference... Project Point will be a high roleplay campaign with the signature Eberron turn on good, bad, and tropes. Be ready to ally with undead and question generalizations, for in 998 YK Karrnath, little is wholly as it seems...
You have been called to the town of Teryk by the Warlord Geron Karlach, who is battling a terrible blight that nothing has been able to slow. Perhaps you were dispatched here by the Karrnathi crown, or came of your own accord, or maybe the warlord himself is an old friend. Regardless, you are now only half a mile from Teryk, and not alone on the road...
The Shadowmount road is right in the middle of Karrnath, a ribbon of Cannith-paved stone stretching from the middle of the eastern lightning rail to the the town of Atur. Every mile, a small post carved in the shape of a spiraling unicorn horn declares House Orien's stamp of approval, that this road is considered well-kept and used by Orien coaches on their travels across Khorvaire. The unicorn post also indicates that the road is considered safe...well, under usual circumstances, at least. Because this is Karrnath, there's a heavy drizzle coming down, and the sky is grim and gray. The town of Teryk is visible as a smudged blur perhaps a mile down the road, the rain and distance preventing you from seeing any details. The edges of the fields are visible far closer, the crops yellower and sparser than they should be, signs of the blight that called you here. Looking around, you see you aren't alone on the road, either. Five others are walking down the same section of the road. OOC: Alright, let's get an introduction post up from each person! Once your assigned person has put their intro up, you can give me the rumor you come up with for them, and then I'll distribute rumors while you rp. Here are who you'll be creating rumors for! Rforrest will be creating a rumor for RK Kaemgen will be creating a rumor for Dire. RK will be creating a rumor for Dragondenn Dire will be creating a rumor for Nathan Dragondenn will be creating a rumor for Kaemgen Nathan will be creating a rumor for Rforrest
Péiste Mór drowses, strewn across the shoulders of their elven mount, not quite snoring but there is a distinct thin line of smoke from each of their nostrils on the exhale. The rain doesn't bother Péiste Mór, mostly just sloughs off their brick red scales and any that remains quickly evaporates from the body heat generated by the small red dragon.
Small is, perhaps, too kind. Tiny. Miniscule even? Sure, Péiste Mór is slightly larger than one would expect of a household feline, but definitely smaller than any beast that can properly be called a dog. Perhaps four feet from snout to tip of their tail, if laid out flat but they much prefer to be curled up in a ball somewhere comfy or stretched across the shoulders of their kind and convenient mount.
"hmmmmm, why we stopping?" Péiste Mór asks in a slow, sleepy voice. It is their normal tone of voice. Opening on eye the dragon glances around and sees Teryk is not too far off... But perhaps more interestingly, for a moment anyway, is the people. For the first time in a little bit there are people around. One never does know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Even after the fact, more often than not.
"are they friend or foe, do you suspect?" Péiste Mór asks of their elven mount in the same sleepy tone, as if every word was being thoughtfully considered even as it was being spoken. "come now, Jaxium... we should at least be civil and offer a greeting, should we not?"
With that, Péiste Mór gave a little sneeze, twin smoke rings rising up from their nostrils as the do, and opened their second eye and deigned to lift their head several inches while they awaited Jaxium, the Elf companion they were so graciously allowing to transport them, to speak up. Strangers are not always... open to talking to dragons. Even the small ones.
(( Image blatantly borrowed off the internets, I could not find proper accreditation for the artist so alas I cannot provide it. But this does quite nicely portray how I envision Péiste Mór appearing...))
A tall figure with broad shoulders, head bald but marked and pitted with some kind of scarring or tattoo, plods forward. His head is quite obviously weatherworn, and has seen a few fights. Facial features might once have been delicate or refined but at this point it's lucky eyes, ears, nose, and mouth are still in working order and where they're supposed to be. Well, except for the ears, which look like normal human ears, no points.
People seeing Jax for the first time would not necessarily guess he is an elf of any kind. Just that he is big, likely strong, and could walk for miles. So it is odd when he stops, and blinks, and looks around. Replying to Péiste Mór's first query, he says, "I do not know. That is where we are headed, right? That town? Ta Reek?"
He shifts his shoulders, unsettling his companion a bit, but spreading the comforting warmth around his frame a bit. Nice to have a heat pack in this rain.
At Péiste Mór's second utterance, he looks around again, wider glances this time, and finally notices people. His stance shifts a bit to a guarded one, but his look is hopeful. "I think greetings tend to go better when you give them rather than me."He sighs. "Oh, alright. I will give it a try."
He waves his hand in the air. "Hello! This rain sure is wet, is it not?"
Standing like a statue on the side of the road is a metallic figure. Gleaming pristine plate armor sheaths his form, over which his white and red knightly vestment hangs down like so much limp adornment. The fabric hangs, soaked, on his frame and droplets steadily fall from it. Water trickles down his face, and you note a droplet runs down his left yellow glowing eye in a way that makes you wish you could blink for the creature. His right eye is dimly glowing, barely visible in this dreary weather. A metal framed shield is on one arm, a mace hangs from a belt. As the drizzle collects in large enough drops, they trickle down his unmoving metallic form.
In reply to Jax's hand wave and greeting the statue suddenly responds, moving slightly to square its shoulders to the travellers and raising its view to regard the two of them. "My name is Case. I am here at behest of the crown to assist Warlord Geron Karlach with recent trouble regarding blight. I am meant to meet people who will also be assisting. Are you such a person? I find your statement unnecessary, as rain is water, which is by nature wet. Perhaps you are attempting humor. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha." He stares at Jax unblinking and without looking away....which is rather unsettling. "Hello," he adds....far too late.
Drego approached the small gathering, careful to keep his hands visible and empty. Strangers were easy to spook, and once spooked they often acted erratically, unpredictably even. People acting unpredictably often meant Drego had to kill someone. He didn't like killing people. He was good at it, but he didn't like it.
Lean and wiry, Drego moved with a predator's grace, the practiced stride of one familiar with violence. His deep rich complexion stood in stark contrast to the wisp of salt and pepper hair visible from under his weathered traveling hood. His practical leather armor, darkened and padded, was covered in blades of all descriptions. At his hip was a curious contraption, a hand crossbow of unusual design and uncertain application.
'Greetings Master Case, nodding his head towards the Warforged 'fellow travelers' a nod towards the dragon elf combo 'Drego Fellhorn at your service, I am indeed one such person here to assist, if assisting means getting paid that is.'
Jax replies to Case's first question "are we such a person?" then turns to the dragon on his shoulder and asks at a stage whisper: "are we such a persons?"
Case glances away from Jax to look at Drego as he approaches. Case nods to him, "Drego Fellhorn. I believe you. I have assessed that you are likely very good at murdering people. However, I must be clear that my belief system does not permit murder as a primary course of action. If you can not adhere to this, please inform me immediately."
Case then turns back to Jax, and then just repeats his question inanely, "Are you such a person? I should mention that, if you believe that I can not hear you whispering to your lizard, then you are incorrect. It is quite easy to detect. I am informing you as a matter of courtesy and discretion."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Spotting the small gathering ahead of her, Robin slows her stride a bit, sizing up the motly crew for signs of danger or threat. She is a woman walking alone down a road in Karrnath, so likely a target of would-be bandits and thieves. The road was normally safe, but she is not certain of that, not with this issue she was sent to report back on.
The figure who walks towards those gathered on the road is a pretty human-looking woman with dark red hair, currently tied back in a long braid down her back. She wears a heavy cloak, that covers her fairly fully from shoulder to knee, and is sodden from the drizzle. There is no doubt she is wearing some sort of armor under that cloak though, the soft clink of it can be heard as she moves, and there is a stiffness to her walk that is quite certainly due to wearing some form of armor. Her boots are well worn, and soaked like the cloak.
At a distance it is likely hard to tell that the figure is actually female, as the armor she wears has flattened out any curves she may or may not possess, and only her angular face, as well as the long red hair, are available to make any such determinations. As she draws closer though, it would be more clear, her smooth walk, femanin softness to her angular face, and the long hair combining to tell you she is definitely female.
Her emerald eyes are intense as they take in the gathered figures, noting the mettalic warforge, the small dragon, the bulky man the dragon is riding upon, and then settling on the figure with blades all over them, as well as a strange crossbow at his waist. She draws to a stop a few feet from those gathered on the road, hearing a bit of their conversation.
"I am here also to aid in what is going on in Teryk." She informs the group. As she speaks a hand slips into her cloak, pulling out, of all things, a piece of parchment. The parchment is blank and she holds it loosly as she continues to watch the group assembled. "I do not wish any trouble here..." She says, her eyes moving back to the form of Drego. "If we are all here in answer to the Warlord's summons, then that is good. As a lone woman on the road though, I can't just assume such, so forgive my lack of trust here as I wait for you to state your own plans..."
Caught a bit off guard by the Automaton's ability to read him so quickly, Drego eye's the Warforged carefully 'Violence is never a primary course of action Master Case, and murder isn't on the menu either.' turning to address the newcomer, he dips his head 'I am indeed here to answer the summons and lend what aid I may.'
OOC, the bit about being good at killing was meant to be internal dialogue for Drego but I like that Case 'heard' it or intuited it and answered in kind :)
The red-haired woman nods to Drego. Her demeaner seems to relax a bit, as she doesn't see any outright hostility coming from this group. "That is good to hear." She speaks out loud. "My name is Robin...." She glances past the group towards the smudge of the town just in sight ahead. "Would you all be willing to move along to town, so we can get out of this acursed drizzle and find a place where we can talk, that is at least drier than this road?"
"I do not really mind the rain, but standing around on the road is not very interesting. I, too, do not plan to murder anyone today. It is good to hear you also do not wish to murder. Let us keep moving. I am Jaxium, or Jax. This sleepy one is Péiste Mór. They usually know where to go. Not so good at walking, that is my job,"the large figure finishes, and then begins walking down the road.
“hmmm, yes… i do suppose we are such people,Jax,” the small dragon answers slowly and with consideration. “if one is generous and inclusive with their definition of people, at least…”
Péiste Mór rises up onto their front limbs and stretches their neck around to look at the newest arrivals.“are with thinking it fortuitous or clandestine that such a motley crew as we have stumbled onto this place in the road at the same time as one another, do you suppose?” The dragon waits a moment but then waves one hand/paw absently as if to brush the question away.
“the female’s caution is understandable but perhaps we can put one another at ease, hmmm?” Péiste Mór continues, the languid pace of their words drawing attention despite the slowness and gentleness of the words.“perhaps a vow of peace and friendship could be taken by all…to be enforced by all upon any of us who breaks it against another of us…least wise until we reach our destination and learn more about what draws us all here?”
Words spoken, Péiste Mór quickly ducks their head into the backpack Jax carries, and which the dragon rides upon, least as much as the elf’s shoulders.Scrounging and diffing is heard until finally their is a satisfied sounding growl and a a snapping of teeth?A moment later Péiste Mór pulls back, their head popping out, and a strip of dried meat between their teeth.They looked around once more, guardedly, then quickly devour their snack.
“is it not yet decided?hmmm, well now, let’s all agree and be on our way, no?we can’t be making a nuisance so close to town, yes?”Deciding the matter is settled, Péiste Mór flaps their wings twice, walks a circle upon Jax’s shoulders and pack, then lies down once more as if to resume their nap…though eyes so far only half closed.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Case watches the exchanges in silence. There's a momentary pause, and then he suddenly points at the small dragon, "You are no mere lizard!" He says this loudly and with verve. But there is no following actions or words, instead his arm drops back to his side and he glances around the group.
"We are here. I agree to the talking lizards terms. Once others have agreed, we will walk to town and begin our mission. In the meantime, I shall provide Robin with shelter."
He walks over to her, his metal armor that is fused to his body clinks quietly as he raises the shield, clearly intending to use it as an umbrella, and raises it over the red haired woman.
He glances at her as he does so, staring at her, "I see you are wearing armor. I would like to you to remove your clothing so that I can see it, but will not make such a request overtly."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Robin nods at the small dragon, as it suggests the vow they all take. Before she can agree to the vow out loud though, the warforge moves into action and her attention is pulled to the mecannical marvel as it speaks to the dragon, then turns to her. She is more than a little taken aback as it holds its shield over her head, attempting to block the drizzle. Her lips twist up in an amused smile as she looks up at the shield for a long moment.
"Well big guy, as nice of an idea as that is, I think it a few hours too late." She observes, holding up the already-wet fabric of her cloak. "A bit more water is not going to make it any more of a problem, so please take down your shield." Cocking her head a bit at the request though she shrugs. "I don't see any harm in that." She says, and opens the front of her cloak, displaying a set of scale mail armor to the others. At her waist also hangs a light crossbow, a couple scroll cases, a few daggers, as well as her money pouch.
Once done with the exchange with the warforge Robin turns back to the others. "I too will make the same vow, and would like to get moving to town, as I would like to find a place I could dry off, and where we can likely learn more of what has drawn us each to this place." As she speaks she slips the parchment back into one of the scroll cases hanging at her belt.
Suddenly from the direction that Drego came from a small and seemingly very young goblin comes running up to Drego and looks at him very crossly.
”I am Stitch.” His expression very clearly communicates, why did you leave me behind. It’s only at this moment that Stitch looks around and realizes that it’s not just Drego he ran up to.
His expression changes immediately to fear and very timidly says in a much slower manner, “I am Stitch?” He looks at Drego wondering who these people are.
For those that take the time to pay more attention to this diminutive goblin (only 1.5 feet tall), it’s plainly obvious that his clothes are nothing more than rags. Though he does have a few pouches hanging from a makeshift belt. The next thing any one would notice, especially anyone standing close by, is the smell of someone who hasn’t washed in... a really long time.
"yes, so you are... You are most definitely Stitch," Péiste Mór practically purrs with slow amusement. The dragon then turns to the metal man, wrinkles up his snout and sneezes out a big clout of smoke from his nostrils. "and I am not a mere anything... "
"come now... town awaits and I am sure we would all appreciate a warm meal and place to sleep... though perhaps our hard Case may be indifferent to such comforts..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
The six of you start walking again, eager to get out of the rain as Teryk grows closer. As the town nears, you begin to be able to make out additional details of it. The town is built in the heavy Karrnathi style, the buildings solid and interspersed with statues of warriors and elaborate sculptures. The fields around the town are composed of sickly looking crops, no doubt thanks to the blight you are here to solve, which is also causing even the weeds in the road to wither. However, before you can see much more of the town, you are interrupted by clacking noises as four skeletons emerge from a withered tree grove beside the road ahead of you and charge, battered blades held high and hissing furiously!
OOC: Allllright, let's see the first initiative rolls of the campaign! Just a nice, easy combat to get everyone warmed up :D
Karrnath is a nation of grim weather and grimmer people, and home to the maltheistic religion of the Blood of Vol. The Blood of Vol, a religion that believes the gods are cruel who created death to stymie the potential of all beings to become divine, made an alliance with Karrnath during the Last War, a war for succession that consumed the entire continent of Khorvaire. Thanks to this alliance, Karrnath fielded massive legions of undead soldiers powered by the plane of Mabar, the Endless Night. With the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold, the Last War came to an end. Just before the Treaty was signed, the young king of Karrnath, Kaius III, ended the alliance with the BoV, and the undead armies were placed into storage.
Now, 2 years after the signing of the Treaty, Karrnath rumbles with unrest. The warlords call Kaius III weak for his pursuit of peace, the Seekers of the Divinity Within (followers of the BoV) have an uneasy tension with other Karrns, the Bloodsail pirates target Karrnathi shipping, and the Order of the Emerald Claw, an ex-Seeker terrorist group, perpetrate horrors across the continent. Karrnath seethes with secrets and tension, as alliances are built and destroyed, and a few heroes could make all the difference...
Project Point will be a high roleplay campaign with the signature Eberron turn on good, bad, and tropes. Be ready to ally with undead and question generalizations, for in 998 YK Karrnath, little is wholly as it seems...
You have been called to the town of Teryk by the Warlord Geron Karlach, who is battling a terrible blight that nothing has been able to slow. Perhaps you were dispatched here by the Karrnathi crown, or came of your own accord, or maybe the warlord himself is an old friend. Regardless, you are now only half a mile from Teryk, and not alone on the road...
Opening post coming once we're ready to start!
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
The Shadowmount road is right in the middle of Karrnath, a ribbon of Cannith-paved stone stretching from the middle of the eastern lightning rail to the the town of Atur. Every mile, a small post carved in the shape of a spiraling unicorn horn declares House Orien's stamp of approval, that this road is considered well-kept and used by Orien coaches on their travels across Khorvaire. The unicorn post also indicates that the road is considered safe...well, under usual circumstances, at least.
Because this is Karrnath, there's a heavy drizzle coming down, and the sky is grim and gray. The town of Teryk is visible as a smudged blur perhaps a mile down the road, the rain and distance preventing you from seeing any details. The edges of the fields are visible far closer, the crops yellower and sparser than they should be, signs of the blight that called you here.
Looking around, you see you aren't alone on the road, either. Five others are walking down the same section of the road.
OOC: Alright, let's get an introduction post up from each person! Once your assigned person has put their intro up, you can give me the rumor you come up with for them, and then I'll distribute rumors while you rp. Here are who you'll be creating rumors for!
Rforrest will be creating a rumor for RK
Kaemgen will be creating a rumor for Dire.
RK will be creating a rumor for Dragondenn
Dire will be creating a rumor for Nathan
Dragondenn will be creating a rumor for Kaemgen
Nathan will be creating a rumor for Rforrest
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Péiste Mór drowses, strewn across the shoulders of their elven mount, not quite snoring but there is a distinct thin line of smoke from each of their nostrils on the exhale. The rain doesn't bother Péiste Mór, mostly just sloughs off their brick red scales and any that remains quickly evaporates from the body heat generated by the small red dragon.
Small is, perhaps, too kind. Tiny. Miniscule even? Sure, Péiste Mór is slightly larger than one would expect of a household feline, but definitely smaller than any beast that can properly be called a dog. Perhaps four feet from snout to tip of their tail, if laid out flat but they much prefer to be curled up in a ball somewhere comfy or stretched across the shoulders of their kind and convenient mount.
"hmmmmm, why we stopping?" Péiste Mór asks in a slow, sleepy voice. It is their normal tone of voice. Opening on eye the dragon glances around and sees Teryk is not too far off... But perhaps more interestingly, for a moment anyway, is the people. For the first time in a little bit there are people around. One never does know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Even after the fact, more often than not.
"are they friend or foe, do you suspect?" Péiste Mór asks of their elven mount in the same sleepy tone, as if every word was being thoughtfully considered even as it was being spoken. "come now, Jaxium... we should at least be civil and offer a greeting, should we not?"
With that, Péiste Mór gave a little sneeze, twin smoke rings rising up from their nostrils as the do, and opened their second eye and deigned to lift their head several inches while they awaited Jaxium, the Elf companion they were so graciously allowing to transport them, to speak up. Strangers are not always... open to talking to dragons. Even the small ones.
(( Image blatantly borrowed off the internets, I could not find proper accreditation for the artist so alas I cannot provide it. But this does quite nicely portray how I envision Péiste Mór appearing...))
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
A tall figure with broad shoulders, head bald but marked and pitted with some kind of scarring or tattoo, plods forward. His head is quite obviously weatherworn, and has seen a few fights. Facial features might once have been delicate or refined but at this point it's lucky eyes, ears, nose, and mouth are still in working order and where they're supposed to be. Well, except for the ears, which look like normal human ears, no points.
People seeing Jax for the first time would not necessarily guess he is an elf of any kind. Just that he is big, likely strong, and could walk for miles. So it is odd when he stops, and blinks, and looks around. Replying to Péiste Mór's first query, he says, "I do not know. That is where we are headed, right? That town? Ta Reek?"
He shifts his shoulders, unsettling his companion a bit, but spreading the comforting warmth around his frame a bit. Nice to have a heat pack in this rain.
At Péiste Mór's second utterance, he looks around again, wider glances this time, and finally notices people. His stance shifts a bit to a guarded one, but his look is hopeful. "I think greetings tend to go better when you give them rather than me." He sighs. "Oh, alright. I will give it a try."
He waves his hand in the air. "Hello! This rain sure is wet, is it not?"
Standing like a statue on the side of the road is a metallic figure. Gleaming pristine plate armor sheaths his form, over which his white and red knightly vestment hangs down like so much limp adornment. The fabric hangs, soaked, on his frame and droplets steadily fall from it. Water trickles down his face, and you note a droplet runs down his left yellow glowing eye in a way that makes you wish you could blink for the creature. His right eye is dimly glowing, barely visible in this dreary weather. A metal framed shield is on one arm, a mace hangs from a belt. As the drizzle collects in large enough drops, they trickle down his unmoving metallic form.
In reply to Jax's hand wave and greeting the statue suddenly responds, moving slightly to square its shoulders to the travellers and raising its view to regard the two of them. "My name is Case. I am here at behest of the crown to assist Warlord Geron Karlach with recent trouble regarding blight. I am meant to meet people who will also be assisting. Are you such a person? I find your statement unnecessary, as rain is water, which is by nature wet. Perhaps you are attempting humor. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha." He stares at Jax unblinking and without looking away....which is rather unsettling. "Hello," he adds....far too late.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Drego approached the small gathering, careful to keep his hands visible and empty. Strangers were easy to spook, and once spooked they often acted erratically, unpredictably even. People acting unpredictably often meant Drego had to kill someone. He didn't like killing people. He was good at it, but he didn't like it.
Lean and wiry, Drego moved with a predator's grace, the practiced stride of one familiar with violence. His deep rich complexion stood in stark contrast to the wisp of salt and pepper hair visible from under his weathered traveling hood. His practical leather armor, darkened and padded, was covered in blades of all descriptions. At his hip was a curious contraption, a hand crossbow of unusual design and uncertain application.
'Greetings Master Case, nodding his head towards the Warforged 'fellow travelers' a nod towards the dragon elf combo 'Drego Fellhorn at your service, I am indeed one such person here to assist, if assisting means getting paid that is.'
Jax replies to Case's first question "are we such a person?" then turns to the dragon on his shoulder and asks at a stage whisper: "are we such a persons?"
Case glances away from Jax to look at Drego as he approaches. Case nods to him, "Drego Fellhorn. I believe you. I have assessed that you are likely very good at murdering people. However, I must be clear that my belief system does not permit murder as a primary course of action. If you can not adhere to this, please inform me immediately."
Case then turns back to Jax, and then just repeats his question inanely, "Are you such a person? I should mention that, if you believe that I can not hear you whispering to your lizard, then you are incorrect. It is quite easy to detect. I am informing you as a matter of courtesy and discretion."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Spotting the small gathering ahead of her, Robin slows her stride a bit, sizing up the motly crew for signs of danger or threat. She is a woman walking alone down a road in Karrnath, so likely a target of would-be bandits and thieves. The road was normally safe, but she is not certain of that, not with this issue she was sent to report back on.
The figure who walks towards those gathered on the road is a pretty human-looking woman with dark red hair, currently tied back in a long braid down her back. She wears a heavy cloak, that covers her fairly fully from shoulder to knee, and is sodden from the drizzle. There is no doubt she is wearing some sort of armor under that cloak though, the soft clink of it can be heard as she moves, and there is a stiffness to her walk that is quite certainly due to wearing some form of armor. Her boots are well worn, and soaked like the cloak.
At a distance it is likely hard to tell that the figure is actually female, as the armor she wears has flattened out any curves she may or may not possess, and only her angular face, as well as the long red hair, are available to make any such determinations. As she draws closer though, it would be more clear, her smooth walk, femanin softness to her angular face, and the long hair combining to tell you she is definitely female.
Her emerald eyes are intense as they take in the gathered figures, noting the mettalic warforge, the small dragon, the bulky man the dragon is riding upon, and then settling on the figure with blades all over them, as well as a strange crossbow at his waist. She draws to a stop a few feet from those gathered on the road, hearing a bit of their conversation.
"I am here also to aid in what is going on in Teryk." She informs the group. As she speaks a hand slips into her cloak, pulling out, of all things, a piece of parchment. The parchment is blank and she holds it loosly as she continues to watch the group assembled. "I do not wish any trouble here..." She says, her eyes moving back to the form of Drego. "If we are all here in answer to the Warlord's summons, then that is good. As a lone woman on the road though, I can't just assume such, so forgive my lack of trust here as I wait for you to state your own plans..."
Caught a bit off guard by the Automaton's ability to read him so quickly, Drego eye's the Warforged carefully 'Violence is never a primary course of action Master Case, and murder isn't on the menu either.' turning to address the newcomer, he dips his head 'I am indeed here to answer the summons and lend what aid I may.'
OOC, the bit about being good at killing was meant to be internal dialogue for Drego but I like that Case 'heard' it or intuited it and answered in kind :)
The red-haired woman nods to Drego. Her demeaner seems to relax a bit, as she doesn't see any outright hostility coming from this group. "That is good to hear." She speaks out loud. "My name is Robin...." She glances past the group towards the smudge of the town just in sight ahead. "Would you all be willing to move along to town, so we can get out of this acursed drizzle and find a place where we can talk, that is at least drier than this road?"
"I do not really mind the rain, but standing around on the road is not very interesting. I, too, do not plan to murder anyone today. It is good to hear you also do not wish to murder. Let us keep moving. I am Jaxium, or Jax. This sleepy one is Péiste Mór. They usually know where to go. Not so good at walking, that is my job," the large figure finishes, and then begins walking down the road.
“hmmm, yes… i do suppose we are such people, Jax,” the small dragon answers slowly and with consideration. “if one is generous and inclusive with their definition of people, at least…”
Péiste Mór rises up onto their front limbs and stretches their neck around to look at the newest arrivals. “are with thinking it fortuitous or clandestine that such a motley crew as we have stumbled onto this place in the road at the same time as one another, do you suppose?” The dragon waits a moment but then waves one hand/paw absently as if to brush the question away.
“the female’s caution is understandable but perhaps we can put one another at ease, hmmm?” Péiste Mór continues, the languid pace of their words drawing attention despite the slowness and gentleness of the words. “perhaps a vow of peace and friendship could be taken by all… to be enforced by all upon any of us who breaks it against another of us… least wise until we reach our destination and learn more about what draws us all here?”
Words spoken, Péiste Mór quickly ducks their head into the backpack Jax carries, and which the dragon rides upon, least as much as the elf’s shoulders. Scrounging and diffing is heard until finally their is a satisfied sounding growl and a a snapping of teeth? A moment later Péiste Mór pulls back, their head popping out, and a strip of dried meat between their teeth. They looked around once more, guardedly, then quickly devour their snack.
“is it not yet decided? hmmm, well now, let’s all agree and be on our way, no? we can’t be making a nuisance so close to town, yes?” Deciding the matter is settled, Péiste Mór flaps their wings twice, walks a circle upon Jax’s shoulders and pack, then lies down once more as if to resume their nap… though eyes so far only half closed.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Case watches the exchanges in silence. There's a momentary pause, and then he suddenly points at the small dragon, "You are no mere lizard!" He says this loudly and with verve. But there is no following actions or words, instead his arm drops back to his side and he glances around the group.
"We are here. I agree to the talking lizards terms. Once others have agreed, we will walk to town and begin our mission. In the meantime, I shall provide Robin with shelter."
He walks over to her, his metal armor that is fused to his body clinks quietly as he raises the shield, clearly intending to use it as an umbrella, and raises it over the red haired woman.
He glances at her as he does so, staring at her, "I see you are wearing armor. I would like to you to remove your clothing so that I can see it, but will not make such a request overtly."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Robin nods at the small dragon, as it suggests the vow they all take. Before she can agree to the vow out loud though, the warforge moves into action and her attention is pulled to the mecannical marvel as it speaks to the dragon, then turns to her. She is more than a little taken aback as it holds its shield over her head, attempting to block the drizzle. Her lips twist up in an amused smile as she looks up at the shield for a long moment.
"Well big guy, as nice of an idea as that is, I think it a few hours too late." She observes, holding up the already-wet fabric of her cloak. "A bit more water is not going to make it any more of a problem, so please take down your shield." Cocking her head a bit at the request though she shrugs. "I don't see any harm in that." She says, and opens the front of her cloak, displaying a set of scale mail armor to the others. At her waist also hangs a light crossbow, a couple scroll cases, a few daggers, as well as her money pouch.
Once done with the exchange with the warforge Robin turns back to the others. "I too will make the same vow, and would like to get moving to town, as I would like to find a place I could dry off, and where we can likely learn more of what has drawn us each to this place." As she speaks she slips the parchment back into one of the scroll cases hanging at her belt.
Suddenly from the direction that Drego came from a small and seemingly very young goblin comes running up to Drego and looks at him very crossly.
”I am Stitch.” His expression very clearly communicates, why did you leave me behind. It’s only at this moment that Stitch looks around and realizes that it’s not just Drego he ran up to.
His expression changes immediately to fear and very timidly says in a much slower manner, “I am Stitch?” He looks at Drego wondering who these people are.
For those that take the time to pay more attention to this diminutive goblin (only 1.5 feet tall), it’s plainly obvious that his clothes are nothing more than rags. Though he does have a few pouches hanging from a makeshift belt. The next thing any one would notice, especially anyone standing close by, is the smell of someone who hasn’t washed in... a really long time.
"yes, so you are... You are most definitely Stitch," Péiste Mór practically purrs with slow amusement. The dragon then turns to the metal man, wrinkles up his snout and sneezes out a big clout of smoke from his nostrils. "and I am not a mere anything... "
"come now... town awaits and I am sure we would all appreciate a warm meal and place to sleep... though perhaps our hard Case may be indifferent to such comforts..."
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
The six of you start walking again, eager to get out of the rain as Teryk grows closer. As the town nears, you begin to be able to make out additional details of it. The town is built in the heavy Karrnathi style, the buildings solid and interspersed with statues of warriors and elaborate sculptures. The fields around the town are composed of sickly looking crops, no doubt thanks to the blight you are here to solve, which is also causing even the weeds in the road to wither. However, before you can see much more of the town, you are interrupted by clacking noises as four skeletons emerge from a withered tree grove beside the road ahead of you and charge, battered blades held high and hissing furiously!
OOC: Allllright, let's see the first initiative rolls of the campaign! Just a nice, easy combat to get everyone warmed up :D
Skeletons: 17
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
17 - Péiste Mór's initiative…
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Initiative: 7