Perrin was from one of the simple villagers living a simple life, more concerned with Mr Humphrey's victory at the village "Largest Pumpkin of Year" contest than with some petty wars of some kings in the far lands. Dedicated to win at any cost, he started reading more books and old scrolls, trying to improve his produce. In desperation he began talking to his plants, and to his suprise they began to talk back! Gradually, Perrin understood that he was not going insane, but rather had awakened a budding druid magic power.
Perrin was consumed by his new abilities, even less interested with the wider world with the taxmen, and recruiters and stupid politics. He went into seclusion deep in the wild lands. Returning back as a fully fledged druid, he was somewhat lost with all the talk of war. Needing some funds to further advance his knowledge and interested to test his powers to help people, Perrin signs up with a mercenary band to earn some coin.
Perrin is a calm easygoing person (Neutral Good), with the temperament of a typical halfling: optimistic, enjoying good food and sleep. In the group, he takes the role of utility and support, with his vast library of spells for almost any situation.
History check to see if any banners are recognised: 21
Perrin looks around and shrugs.
Shouldn't we go in? We will not be paid for just standing here.
You recognize many familiar banners from across Alvernia and even a few from allied kingdoms. This is no small gathering of regional forces. The king has called every banner to this location. Some would argue that depleting so many lands of their armies would be foolish. In this case, desperation makes fools of anyone short of options.
Over the tops of the pallisades, some banners stand above others. Those you can make out not already present at the inner camp are mercenary bands from various lands. As you can recon, there are two mercenary banners for each lord's.
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(Seem like we have a consensus despite the leader. Sometimes that's the dynamic of these types of "organizations" lol)
As you begin to approach the main tent, the angry dwarf from before quickly steps in your path, "Woah there, friends. Th'Hell do ye think yer goin'? Prince Raenwulth takes no guests during war council meetin's. Ye'll 'ave to find a bit o' fun till they're done." The dwarf stands between the two posted guards, arms crossed. The two armored humans look like statues compared to the lively dwarf.
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
We are the "Rising Star" group and have been invited to meet with Commander Tulvus. If he is not avaliable, we need a place to set camp and get good food and drink from the camp quartermaster.
My first priority is to figure out where to set up camp, then relay that information to the rest of the Company. Company! Ha! Six people! That's not a Company, that's a squad--or an adventuring party!
The next step is to pay my respects to the leaders. In this case, Commander Tulvus.
After that's done, I wander around, trying to determine the overall mood of the camp--and suggest to the rest of Rising Star that anyone bored do likewise.
Someone requested a character overview. Here it is.
Caelynn Mac'IlleMhòire (Cael for short), young (no older than 120) high elf. Killed men for calling her Lynn--or claims to have. Piercing blue eyes; harsh, hawklike face; midnight-black hair down to the neck; practically everything else covered in leather. Lots of weapons. Wagon full of gear. Invisible ring of mind shielding that never comes off and that no one else knows about. Periapt of wound closure under the leather. A bit paranoid, a bit cynical, a bit short-tempered, and, occasionally, more than a bit depressed. Quick of body, quick of mind. Good sense of humor.
Captain of the Rising Star merc Company. Skilled, experienced fighter. Good at leading from the front lines. Minor psionic abilities. Short-range telepathy and even shorter-range telekinesis, the latter manifesting in the form of weapons and armor made entirely of invisible telekinetic force. A couple magical parlor tricks from her elven heritage.
The dwarf perks up at the mention of Commander Tulvus and The Rising Star. He begins to stroke his beard's twin braids, pondering, "Rising Star...Rising St- Ah yes! Tulvus has been waiting. Ye don' need to fret yerselves with the lot in 'ere. Swear each of 'em has a peg the size of my arm fixed to the seat under their arses. Thought there were more of- Stonemother's tits!" The dwarf jumps slightly at seeing Gridolpho, "Lad, we'll need a stick an' bell for you and yer friend 'ere on account of, well..." He looks at the rest for a moment, "Ye'll see."
The surly dwarf spins, the chains of his armor clinking lightly, and marches briskly toward another sizeable tent nearby, "This way! Commanders don' like to be kept waitin'!"
(That's all I have time for now. More to come in a few hours. Also figured Cube may want to retort ;P)
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Looking to her fellows, Sohyme follows slightly behind her company cloak hiding her black scales. She knows all to well the predjudice against dragonborn. Gently running her hand over the deep scar towards the side of her face.
Tavgrephor is a slim Eladrin with pale, blue skin, dark blue shoulder length hair, and eyes that look like the night sky. He is draped in a cloak that is deep blue, and constantly seems to be slightly shifting. In fact, Tav never seems to be standing quite where you'd expect him to be.
Tav is blind in the normal sense, but he fact he is so in tune with Fey magics that he can see better than the naked eye, his vision is also enhanced with a pair of magic goggles that are in the shape of a bird. He is able to sense people's energy and thrives on their energy their dreams give off. As he approaches the camp, he is somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer number of people around. The dream energy being let off is intoxicating. He sticks close to his party, just trying not to become separated.
Your brash guide rounds the first corner from where you began, marches past a few smaller tents, then stops at the entrance of an inconspicuous structure. Before proceeding he turns back with hands folded over his stomach, "Commander Tulvus strikes a...memorable impression. My advice to ye is simple," he holds two fingers to his eyes, then to the ground, mouthing Look down.
The dwarf enters first and as you file in, the smell of incense floods your senses. The tent is wide and adorned with several cushioned chairs of different sizes. A massive table sits in the center overrun with papers and maps. Leaning against the table lies a massive sword and towering shield. Once the party has filed in, a booming voice quakes the air around you, "The Rising Sun. You took long enough. My spies reported your arrival as soon as you were in view of the camp," a silhouette moves behind a sheer, massive beyond measure, even compared to some within your company. It moves into an opening, and a towering humanoid stands before you. Coarse, brown hair covers its body, cloven hooves for feet, and a bull's head measures each of you thoroughly. "I am Talvus, Commander of the Auxilliaries. It was my own choice to enlist your aid. The King is stubborn, I won't dignify the ironic comparisson," the commander taps his forehead with a thick finger, "But with enough convincing of my plan, he finally came around."
Moving to the center table, Commander Talvus clears papers and lays out a map detailing the border between Alvernia and Dalenor, "See this here?" His hands bear only three thick fingers and a thumb. Pointing to a green span along the border, "This is the Greenscale Forest. On its northern end, the expanse thins to a few dozen miles wide. It is a natural path of lesst resistance and has become a regular trade route. It was the Prince's plan to use this avenue to cross into Dalenor. Someone thought the same, though. The lizardfolk have become more aggressive, more strategic in their raiding. History has shown them to be cunning, not some simple raiding savages. We sent patrols, they melt into the swamp. Patrols come back, a raid follows them back." With a wave, the surly dwarf from before brings forth a large pitcher and several cups, "Your mission is simple: Infiltrate Coldscale Forest and ensure the army's safe passage. Our objective lies here," Talvus points to a marker on Dalenor's side of the forest, "Scalebane Keep lies due west from this camp. We must march for four days north, two days across the border,then another four south to the first major foothold in Dalenor. If you happen to find a way to shorten the length and time of this, then further opportunites for employment will surely follow."
Commander Talvus turns to the dwarf once more, "Halfshield, ensure they have rest and food. They set off tomorrow. Should there be any concern or questions, you know where to find me."
A tent with comfortable furnishings, plenty of food, and rations to cover the journey will be provided just outside the inner camp's wall.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Rolling up the copy on the table, Talvus hands you the one used for your briefing. The camp is marked on the east of Coldscale Forest, a trade road to the north across the border, and Scalebane Keep due west across the forest.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(I'll try to get a visual of the area. Unfortunately, I am terrible with any graphic art program. I'll be travelling for work until the end of the weekend, so plenty of time to work that at night.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Looking around the muck and steady stream of faces, Sohyme doesn't look to long into any one person's face knowing she will see them die soon enough.
Looking towards Perrin, in a soft voice, "I think we should go to the main tent and listen to battle plans. Better to know now."
(Seem like we have a consensus despite the leader. Sometimes that's the dynamic of these types of "organizations" lol)
As you begin to approach the main tent, the angry dwarf from before quickly steps in your path, "Woah there, friends. Th'Hell do ye think yer goin'? Prince Raenwulth takes no guests during war council meetin's. Ye'll 'ave to find a bit o' fun till they're done." The dwarf stands between the two posted guards, arms crossed. The two armored humans look like statues compared to the lively dwarf.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Ooc: letter or summons we received does it say we are to be part of this meeting?
Just says to meet with a "Commander Tulvus"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
We are the "Rising Star" group and have been invited to meet with Commander Tulvus. If he is not avaliable, we need a place to set camp and get good food and drink from the camp quartermaster.
OOC: I'm working on a post, but the requested character overview is taking longer than anticipated.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
My first priority is to figure out where to set up camp, then relay that information to the rest of the Company. Company! Ha! Six people! That's not a Company, that's a squad--or an adventuring party!
The next step is to pay my respects to the leaders. In this case, Commander Tulvus.
After that's done, I wander around, trying to determine the overall mood of the camp--and suggest to the rest of Rising Star that anyone bored do likewise.
Someone requested a character overview. Here it is.
Caelynn Mac'IlleMhòire (Cael for short), young (no older than 120) high elf. Killed men for calling her Lynn--or claims to have. Piercing blue eyes; harsh, hawklike face; midnight-black hair down to the neck; practically everything else covered in leather. Lots of weapons. Wagon full of gear. Invisible ring of mind shielding that never comes off and that no one else knows about. Periapt of wound closure under the leather. A bit paranoid, a bit cynical, a bit short-tempered, and, occasionally, more than a bit depressed. Quick of body, quick of mind. Good sense of humor.
Captain of the Rising Star merc Company. Skilled, experienced fighter. Good at leading from the front lines. Minor psionic abilities. Short-range telepathy and even shorter-range telekinesis, the latter manifesting in the form of weapons and armor made entirely of invisible telekinetic force. A couple magical parlor tricks from her elven heritage.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
The dwarf perks up at the mention of Commander Tulvus and The Rising Star. He begins to stroke his beard's twin braids, pondering, "Rising Star...Rising St- Ah yes! Tulvus has been waiting. Ye don' need to fret yerselves with the lot in 'ere. Swear each of 'em has a peg the size of my arm fixed to the seat under their arses. Thought there were more of- Stonemother's tits!" The dwarf jumps slightly at seeing Gridolpho, "Lad, we'll need a stick an' bell for you and yer friend 'ere on account of, well..." He looks at the rest for a moment, "Ye'll see."
The surly dwarf spins, the chains of his armor clinking lightly, and marches briskly toward another sizeable tent nearby, "This way! Commanders don' like to be kept waitin'!"
(That's all I have time for now. More to come in a few hours. Also figured Cube may want to retort ;P)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Looking to her fellows, Sohyme follows slightly behind her company cloak hiding her black scales. She knows all to well the predjudice against dragonborn. Gently running her hand over the deep scar towards the side of her face.
The Goliath moves in in last place, letting the other do the speaking but he likes the dwarf
PbP Character: A few ;)
Looking up at the goliath, Sohyme speaks to him. "Have you seen many battles, or at least on this scale?"
Under his breath, Gridolpho mutters "Eh, cram it up yer jacksie sideways, stonesucker." and follows along.
DCI: 3319125026
Tavgrephor is a slim Eladrin with pale, blue skin, dark blue shoulder length hair, and eyes that look like the night sky. He is draped in a cloak that is deep blue, and constantly seems to be slightly shifting. In fact, Tav never seems to be standing quite where you'd expect him to be.
Tav is blind in the normal sense, but he fact he is so in tune with Fey magics that he can see better than the naked eye, his vision is also enhanced with a pair of magic goggles that are in the shape of a bird. He is able to sense people's energy and thrives on their energy their dreams give off. As he approaches the camp, he is somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer number of people around. The dream energy being let off is intoxicating. He sticks close to his party, just trying not to become separated.
Your brash guide rounds the first corner from where you began, marches past a few smaller tents, then stops at the entrance of an inconspicuous structure. Before proceeding he turns back with hands folded over his stomach, "Commander Tulvus strikes a...memorable impression. My advice to ye is simple," he holds two fingers to his eyes, then to the ground, mouthing Look down.
The dwarf enters first and as you file in, the smell of incense floods your senses. The tent is wide and adorned with several cushioned chairs of different sizes. A massive table sits in the center overrun with papers and maps. Leaning against the table lies a massive sword and towering shield. Once the party has filed in, a booming voice quakes the air around you, "The Rising Sun. You took long enough. My spies reported your arrival as soon as you were in view of the camp," a silhouette moves behind a sheer, massive beyond measure, even compared to some within your company. It moves into an opening, and a towering humanoid stands before you. Coarse, brown hair covers its body, cloven hooves for feet, and a bull's head measures each of you thoroughly. "I am Talvus, Commander of the Auxilliaries. It was my own choice to enlist your aid. The King is stubborn, I won't dignify the ironic comparisson," the commander taps his forehead with a thick finger, "But with enough convincing of my plan, he finally came around."
Moving to the center table, Commander Talvus clears papers and lays out a map detailing the border between Alvernia and Dalenor, "See this here?" His hands bear only three thick fingers and a thumb. Pointing to a green span along the border, "This is the Greenscale Forest. On its northern end, the expanse thins to a few dozen miles wide. It is a natural path of lesst resistance and has become a regular trade route. It was the Prince's plan to use this avenue to cross into Dalenor. Someone thought the same, though. The lizardfolk have become more aggressive, more strategic in their raiding. History has shown them to be cunning, not some simple raiding savages. We sent patrols, they melt into the swamp. Patrols come back, a raid follows them back." With a wave, the surly dwarf from before brings forth a large pitcher and several cups, "Your mission is simple: Infiltrate Coldscale Forest and ensure the army's safe passage. Our objective lies here," Talvus points to a marker on Dalenor's side of the forest, "Scalebane Keep lies due west from this camp. We must march for four days north, two days across the border,then another four south to the first major foothold in Dalenor. If you happen to find a way to shorten the length and time of this, then further opportunites for employment will surely follow."
Commander Talvus turns to the dwarf once more, "Halfshield, ensure they have rest and food. They set off tomorrow. Should there be any concern or questions, you know where to find me."
A tent with comfortable furnishings, plenty of food, and rations to cover the journey will be provided just outside the inner camp's wall.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
I request a map, so I can plan properly.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
Rolling up the copy on the table, Talvus hands you the one used for your briefing. The camp is marked on the east of Coldscale Forest, a trade road to the north across the border, and Scalebane Keep due west across the forest.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Surrounded by his larger colleagues, Gridolpho takes the opportunity to slip to the back of the pack.
Naturally Stealthy racial trait. Lucky racial trait.
Stealth 23
Unobserved, the thief takes the opportunity to peruse the commander's tent for anything of note.
Lucky racial trait.
Investigation 12
As the commander finished his spiel, Gridolpho slips back into the pack.
Internal monologue
"Tie a bell on that, ye frakkin' Bigjob!"
DCI: 3319125026
"Thank you, Commander."
OOC: DM, is there a map that I, the player, can study?
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
(I'll try to get a visual of the area. Unfortunately, I am terrible with any graphic art program. I'll be travelling for work until the end of the weekend, so plenty of time to work that at night.)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero