Twilight is giving over to Dusk and the darker parts of the night as you reach The Sleeping Dragon. The exterior of the inn looks exactly as it did in your dream, a large central building with moss covered wooden shingles along the roof and down the walls giving the appearance of green scales. Two low outbuildings to either side evoking the image of a head and tail. A lantern burning brightly from one of those outbuildings, like an eye stabbing through the dark. The beast awoken from its slumber looking for a mid-night snack.
A raven croaks out a call unseen from the trees above, and your fancy snaps back to reality. Its an inn, not a green dragon waiting for you to come closer to consume you. Lights frame a welcoming door thrown open to the night and more warm light pours out the entrance. Would be a strange thing to cut into the belly of a dragon.
As you walk in, a bar maid passes by carrying a tray ladden with empties headed to the kitchen. "Oh, its you. Strangest thing, I saw you and a few others were coming. Like I knew, from a dream. I've made up the back hall. You understand, wouldn't want my regular custom to be put off by your appearance. Here...follow me if you will."
She walks gracefully for a woman with a 15+ pound tray of glass resting on one hand and a shoulder, dancing around and through chairs as she takes you into a smaller sitting room that is empty of clientele. She sets the tray down on the table and offers you her hand in a stuttering hesitant moment of awkwardness. "My name's Rosemerta. I run the Dragon. There are rooms set up for you and your...friends? It seems you are to be long time guests. Everything for you has been paid through the month. As I understand it you will be coming and going, but should always be made welcome here."
She gathers back her tray and leaves you alone in the room to explore your surroundings. You are in a fairly appointed sitting room with a single large round table in the center. A warm fire burns against one wall with a pair of arm chairs sitting at an angle, facing eachother and the fire at a skew. On the far wall is a small book case with a meager collection. Most of the books are well worn and disabused. The uncaring of hands that are borrowers rather than owners have riffled these pages many a time.
Five heavy chairs sit at even intervals around the table, with a tall stein of ale at each setting. A sixth, grander chair sits at what you immediately recognize as the head of the perfect circle. The distance between it and the two chairs to either side is notably larger than the distance between each of the five. Very strange that a round table would have a head...stranger still that you would know that just at a glance.
In the corner a pull cord avails itself to anyone that needs the attention of the kitchen.
As others begin to arrive Rosemerta brings them into the room as well, giving a similar description of their arrangement. You each have rooms that have been paid for for a month. You are to be supplied with food, drink, and any basic supplies that you indicate that you need. A hefty purse was found on the bar this morning before opening, apparently creating a credit for your living expenses.
(Welcome to The Strange and The Beautiful, this post is from the POV of the first player to post their appearance. All 5 players please check in with what the others see as you (or they) enter the room {eg a physical description}. We will start with some intra-PC introductions and roleplay. Once everyone is checked in and ready we will start with what little plot I have. :-) )
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Oridee is a tall, lithe fire genasi with a naturally ashen complexion. From the back, she might appear like a particularly handsome young human woman if not for her fiery red hair that curls into wisps of smoke. She is wearing serviceable and practical clothing, the sort a working-class young woman might wear to visit the market or run an errand. She saves her more flamboyant outfits for her fights, and when she wants to draw attention to herself. Her long sleeves conceal a dagger sheath on either arm - she likes to have her weapons readily available in case things turn sour.
She is used to how the 'regular custom' views her, and others like her, and isn't surprised when Rosemarta leads her to a small, private sitting room as she explains the arrangements that had been made by her mysterious benefactor. Even though she does not yet know the terms of the deal and had not yet met her patron, Oridee is feeling cautiously optimistic - she had seen the weight of the purse left on the bar this morning, and hopes that there would be similar hefty purses in her future as rewards for jobs well done.
As Rosemerta leaves, Oridee takes in the room, and its contents, at a glance, and finds herself drawn, as she is always drawn, to the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. There are two arm chairs besides the fire, and she chooses to sit in the one with line-of-sight to the door. She lounges on the chair, keeping one eye on the door as the others walk in.
As always, when waking from a dream with a new direction, Meriele had a sense of excitement, an expectation. The dream with the raven was not a usual setting, but she saw Pahadron's celestial stamp on certain features of it, and knew he approved. The times in between, alone, in the wilderness, were fruitful times of training, meditation, and study, but also times of lonely suffering, knowing she couldn't be part of the communities she sought to do good for in the times she was called. The excitement of opportunity to go to work nearly always made her forget the discomfort of her isolation, and she was quick to pack and walk however many miles it was to this unknown inn. For her, it's a journey of a couple of days, with the surety of her guide's direction to find the town and the specific inn.
She recognizes the inn itself, squat and sleeping, and the odd detail of the barmaid's recognition seems likewise part of the plan. In many places that Pahadron has sent her before, there were specific encounters that she was to look for that would make clear the work that was to be done. This one seems obvious enough. Meriele smiles at Rosemerta and follows her into the back room. She nods in assent at the woman's information about the accommodations, and looks about the room once the barmaid departs.
Meriele is not tall, and wears a long, tight-woven, undyed wool robe with an ample hood, belted sturdily at the waist. She would appear to the glance of many as some sort of cloistered woman, a student, perhaps, or a monastic. It is difficult to mistake her shimmering eyes, though, and the luminous marks on her skin, when her face is seen under the hood. She pushes the hood back just a bit as she sees the Genasi seated at the fireplace. Meriele's face and eyes, lit so strangely by celestial light, are clearly visible now, and what stray strands of her hair can be seen are pure white. She smiles welcomingly at the other of unaccustomed appearance.
"Well met, stranger,"she says. "You must be one of the friends that Rosemerta spoke of. My name is Meriele, and it is my honor."
Entering third is what looks like to he a well dressed but extremely sickly half elf. Pale skin is framed by shoulder length red hair that is pulled back to show his face and pointed ears. His face is gaunt with hallow cheeks, his eyes a dull brown with a few flecks of green in them. To finish his rather unsettling appearance are his clothes which look to be those of a well paid servant, all of it it black except for a few crimson trimmings. The only accessory is a necklace that holds a red crystal.
(The clothes are right but imagine him a lot more pale and sickly with the hair being red.)
Daveth will sit at the table and look over the others while mainly remaining silent. With slow movements he will take the Stein of ale and start to sip at it. "I am called Daveth, it is a pleasure to meet all of you." He will finally say once everyone enters the room.
Giles Serpentflower walks into the room right behind Rosemerta, the fourth to join the party. Rosemerta is carrying a heavy tray with glasses, dishes and flatware for the gathering. She knows how to multitask and runs the Dragon with skill, but as anyone could, was about have an accident with the wine glasses for the evening. Giles was walking a little close behind her, and as she entered the room, coming over the lip of the step, one of the large glasses in back started to fall to the right side. Quick as a wink, Giles hand shot out and a slight mumble under his breath and the glass floats in the air, Rosemerta none the wiser. You see the glass float up in the air and get deposited back on the tray as she walks with no broken glass, no loud clatter. You may not have noticed, unless you were directly watching while this occurred. Giles smiles to himself, straightens up and keeps walking into the room.
Giles is a 6 foot human with ruffled dark brown hair, a moustache and goatee with blue eyes and a weathered face. He is wearing a dark blue leather coat lined with fur, won at a table of cards after Giles took a liking to it. He has leather armor on underneath and moves with an easy grace into the room, smiling at all of you. He looks like a gambling man, someone you might meet at a table throwing dice, someone that could hold his share of liquor. He is rolling a coin down his fingers as he sits at the table, almost unaware that he is doing so.
Coin :
After he greets you all, sitting at the table, his demeanor almost completely... changes. He seems very calm, he straightens his shirt and his hair, and he has a face of a priest that would take your confession. Nodding somberly at times, when appropriate during conversation, Giles appears to be the antithesis of the man who walked through the door. You are puzzling over this change in his behavior when he says to you all, "Did you all dream of the raven as well? My lady indicated that I should pursue this, that we could all ... help each other here. I am most intrigued. It is a pleasure to meet you all, my name is Giles."
Ellara enters the room. She's a young, tall woman with leaf-green skin and long black hair, though in the light it appears to have a dark green hue. Her eyes are a piercing shade of golden, with irises slightly larger than what seems normal. Pointed ears poke through her hair, though unlike most folk with pointed ears, they appear to fork at the tips. Branches with small flowers on them seem to extend from her temples, curving around the back of her head, where they connect. She's wearing simple traveler's clothes under a fur-lined jacket, and appears to be fairly well-muscled.
She sits down off to the side, not trying to appear unapproachable but not making an effort to seem approachable either.
Meriele turns from the woman seated at the fire and nods to the others as they come in, saying, "My honor," in response to any greetings and introductions. Her gaze lingers the longest, as if with concern, on the sickly, pale half elf. As the others seat themselves at the table, she joins them, attempting to make eye contact with each one with a friendly smile. The luminous glow of her eyes might make this unsettling. She responds to Giles' question. "Yes, I dreamed of a raven. I often have dreams with instructions. It seems that we are waiting for someone who has a job for us; someone who is to fill this seat," she looks at the sixth chair at the head of the round table.
As Rosemerta escorts the final member of the party into the room she smiles at the group of you. "As I understand it, and I can't say I understand much, this is all of you that are expected this evening. I have been instructed to care for any needs you have, which at this point I would imagine would include a meal. And then show you to your rooms for the evening. Oh, what's this? This was not here before."
She looks at the place setting at the "head" of the table, where a not card now appears. A monogrammed letter D appears on the front of a card of fine linen paper the color of a blooming lilac. You all are completely certain that that card was not on the table when you arrived, and yet no one has entered the room and placed it there either.
(When one of your number decides to read the card, please decide if you read this aloud to the group or to yourself)
As you pick up the note card you find it is written in a fine but tight script, the letters fighting for breathing room while the space between the lines are valleys of unexplored territory.
"Greetings travelers. I will apologize for my rudeness of not attending you in person. Many great and powerful things move in the cosmos, and one such as I must be circumspect in how I act upon this plane. In that border area between this world and the Ethereal, that is where I can make myself most known and talk to you more directly. I am afraid outside of it my abilities must be more curtailed.
Please enjoy your evening and those things which the Sleeping Dragon has to offer. While under my employ you are to consider this place a second home. Rosemerta will see that all of your needs are taken care of and obtain any supplies you believe you will need for your journeyings. We will talk more this evening in the Dream about what tasks lay before you and what recompense you can expect. For the time being please get to know those in your company, as if all accept my offer tonight you will need to come to trust each other in the days ahead.
Please give my regards to Rosmerta. Her kindness will be rewarded in kind.
Until tonight.
You may call me The Dreamer.
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Giles goes to the head of the table and quickly skims the card, turns to Rosemerta and says, "Our host has said that you will take care of our needs and see to our supplies while he or she has need of our skills. He wishes us to give you his kind regards and says that you will be well rewarded. Thank you Rosemerta."
After Rosemerta leaves the room, Giles then turns to the rest of the crew, reading the rest of the note aloud. "The Dreamer. Hmmm. It sounds like we will get more information tonight after we go to sleep, we shall be contacted in our dreams again. How interesting. Have any of you ever heard of anything like this before? I wonder what we will be asked to do..." Giles pours himself another glass of wine, saying "Better sleep well tonight. D said for us to get to know each other. Anyone want to go first? 20 questions? Never have I ever...?"
Giles says “Fine. No worries. Something I heard about once, in social games and at parties and so forth. Ever go to those? Hmmm, guess not. Well, perhaps we go around the room and everyone.. share.. as much as you are comfortable with about your past, about what you can do, who you are, and why the Raven might have called you here. Sound dandy? Do you want me to go first?”
Daveth clears his throat, moving to pull out a small vial that he adds to his drink before finishing it in a single gulp. I shall start us off. You may call me Daveth, servant of the great Duke Bomaro. My fighting capabilities are limited but consist of a small knowledge of magic."
As he finishes speaking he returns to his seat, his hollow eyes focusing clearly on the next person to speak.
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
As each of the others enters the room, Oridee looks them over, but doesn't try to introduce herself or make small talk. She does smile back when the kindly hooded woman smiles at her, though.
She listens to the note the human - Giles - reads, and wonders about the Dreamer, and what his motivations are for gathering all of them together here.
After Daveth introduces himself, Oridee stands up and chimes in.
'I'm Oridee,' she says. 'I fight most nights at the Sword and Shield,' naming an inn in the seedier part of town. 'I was probably called here because of these', she says, releasing her dagger sheaths, allowing both knives to suddenly fall into the palm of either hand. They're shiny, and sharp, and she enjoys watching people's startled reactions whenever she pulls that trick.
'I'm excited to see what the Dreamer has in store for us,' she says, sitting back down, and puts the knives away.
Meriele listens and watches each person closely as they speak, and when they have finished, she stands to take her turn. "My name is Meriele," she says. "I serve a higher power not of this world, and I am training to fight, myself, though I pray my part will be small in the battle to right what is broken."
Her hands on the edge of the table, she leans towards Giles, making steady eye contact. "I do not have twenty, but I have some questions," she says softly. "Looking at each of us, I can see... we can all see... each of us is touched by a force that takes us out of the comfort of social community and acceptance, and visibly so." Her gaze turns to rest on the smoking red hair of the genasi, the pale bloodless countenance of the half-elf, and the hag wreath of the green lady, and then returns to Giles. "Except for you. You in fact seem as though you are terribly at home in the circles that are denied the rest of us. There is no visible mark for others to see and keep their distance. Does your presence here, compared with the rest of us, not seem odd?" Her glowing eyes stare at him as if probing.
Giles stands and smiles genially at Meriele, saying “I’m sorry that you have been denied access to social circles, perhaps it is a reality of your lineage that these opportunities are not as accessible to you. Let me reassure you that by no means am I a socialite.” As he delivers these words it is in the manner of a pastor addressing his congregation. He walks away from his chair for a moment and turns his back. When he turns back around, his visage is totally different.
He appears to you as socialite, with a fancy blue coat with silver trim on the sleeves, lapels. “I have been blessed by Lady Tymora with other skills, that are perhaps not overtly visible. These skills have helped me in adventures in the past and I hope will be helpful to us here now.” After he plays the part for a minute, he turns his back again and resumes the form that first walked in the room, not a pastor, not a party goer, but with messy ill kept hair, someone that you would meet in a tavern, going all in on his bet with you, he sidles up half sitting on the table.
“Just because someone’s gifts are not outwardly visible, doesn’t mean that they don’t have them.” With that he makes a subtle motion with his fingers and an invisible hand shoves her chair down with his telekinetic abilities, rocking her back into the chair instead of leaning forward toward him. He gives her a friendly smile and shrugs, finishing with a wink.
Pushed back into the chair suddenly while watching Giles' speech, Meriele sits hard. She startles at the sudden jar but keeps gazing at him, nodding as if something was confirmed to her by this act.
"That is a difference more than skin deep,"she says. "The visibility. I saw you catch a glass invisibly when you came in, but there is no mark on you obvious to others. You can show many different faces---I think the rest of us here cannot. What do your faces protect? We do not know our job here, but if we must rely on one another, we must test where our allegiances are. Not where they are when things are pleasant, but where they are when danger and temptation threaten us...or our pride."
“Well, there’s the rub, isn’t it? In the letter it says “For the time being please get to know those in your company, as if all accept my offer tonight you will need to come to trust each other in the days ahead.” But how do you completely trust someone you just met? I understand how you might not trust me with my particular… skill set. I can honestly say that I mean none of you harm and I hope that I can help with the tasks that may be assigned to us. So, what should we do? Take an oath? I’m willing. I have been led here, I am sure of it.” Giles looks to the others for their view point as well. “Next? Any other opinions about this?”
Ellara stands and clears her throat. "Ah, I'm Ellara," she says. "I'm a traveler, mostly. I can do a bit of magic, and I'm good with a sword. I imagine I look strange to you all--I'm what you might call a hexblood. I'm told my parents had difficulty conceiving, so they went to a nearby hag for assistance. They got me. Needless to say, they weren't too pleased about it."
"So we are introduced then I would retiring for the night so that we may hear more from our mysterious benefactor." Daveth says as he pushes his chair out and then quickly and properly pushes into under the table. "Of course that is only a suggestion. I shall be doing just that, so if you have more need of me I will be in my room."
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Giles nods, looking each in the eye. “Right, perhaps we should just leave it at that. I hope you all have a restful night, let’s see what news our dreams will bring.” Giles stands and steps outside to ask Rosemerta to show us to our rooms.
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Twilight is giving over to Dusk and the darker parts of the night as you reach The Sleeping Dragon. The exterior of the inn looks exactly as it did in your dream, a large central building with moss covered wooden shingles along the roof and down the walls giving the appearance of green scales. Two low outbuildings to either side evoking the image of a head and tail. A lantern burning brightly from one of those outbuildings, like an eye stabbing through the dark. The beast awoken from its slumber looking for a mid-night snack.
A raven croaks out a call unseen from the trees above, and your fancy snaps back to reality. Its an inn, not a green dragon waiting for you to come closer to consume you. Lights frame a welcoming door thrown open to the night and more warm light pours out the entrance. Would be a strange thing to cut into the belly of a dragon.
As you walk in, a bar maid passes by carrying a tray ladden with empties headed to the kitchen. "Oh, its you. Strangest thing, I saw you and a few others were coming. Like I knew, from a dream. I've made up the back hall. You understand, wouldn't want my regular custom to be put off by your appearance. Here...follow me if you will."
She walks gracefully for a woman with a 15+ pound tray of glass resting on one hand and a shoulder, dancing around and through chairs as she takes you into a smaller sitting room that is empty of clientele. She sets the tray down on the table and offers you her hand in a stuttering hesitant moment of awkwardness. "My name's Rosemerta. I run the Dragon. There are rooms set up for you and your...friends? It seems you are to be long time guests. Everything for you has been paid through the month. As I understand it you will be coming and going, but should always be made welcome here."
She gathers back her tray and leaves you alone in the room to explore your surroundings. You are in a fairly appointed sitting room with a single large round table in the center. A warm fire burns against one wall with a pair of arm chairs sitting at an angle, facing eachother and the fire at a skew. On the far wall is a small book case with a meager collection. Most of the books are well worn and disabused. The uncaring of hands that are borrowers rather than owners have riffled these pages many a time.
Five heavy chairs sit at even intervals around the table, with a tall stein of ale at each setting. A sixth, grander chair sits at what you immediately recognize as the head of the perfect circle. The distance between it and the two chairs to either side is notably larger than the distance between each of the five. Very strange that a round table would have a head...stranger still that you would know that just at a glance.
In the corner a pull cord avails itself to anyone that needs the attention of the kitchen.
As others begin to arrive Rosemerta brings them into the room as well, giving a similar description of their arrangement. You each have rooms that have been paid for for a month. You are to be supplied with food, drink, and any basic supplies that you indicate that you need. A hefty purse was found on the bar this morning before opening, apparently creating a credit for your living expenses.
(Welcome to The Strange and The Beautiful, this post is from the POV of the first player to post their appearance. All 5 players please check in with what the others see as you (or they) enter the room {eg a physical description}. We will start with some intra-PC introductions and roleplay. Once everyone is checked in and ready we will start with what little plot I have. :-) )
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Oridee is a tall, lithe fire genasi with a naturally ashen complexion. From the back, she might appear like a particularly handsome young human woman if not for her fiery red hair that curls into wisps of smoke. She is wearing serviceable and practical clothing, the sort a working-class young woman might wear to visit the market or run an errand. She saves her more flamboyant outfits for her fights, and when she wants to draw attention to herself. Her long sleeves conceal a dagger sheath on either arm - she likes to have her weapons readily available in case things turn sour.
She is used to how the 'regular custom' views her, and others like her, and isn't surprised when Rosemarta leads her to a small, private sitting room as she explains the arrangements that had been made by her mysterious benefactor. Even though she does not yet know the terms of the deal and had not yet met her patron, Oridee is feeling cautiously optimistic - she had seen the weight of the purse left on the bar this morning, and hopes that there would be similar hefty purses in her future as rewards for jobs well done.
As Rosemerta leaves, Oridee takes in the room, and its contents, at a glance, and finds herself drawn, as she is always drawn, to the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. There are two arm chairs besides the fire, and she chooses to sit in the one with line-of-sight to the door. She lounges on the chair, keeping one eye on the door as the others walk in.
Ainsley Keenan - Level 6 Human Druid - The World Isn't Over ... Yet
Mostly available evenings EDT + Sunday; low activity on Fridays and Saturdays
As always, when waking from a dream with a new direction, Meriele had a sense of excitement, an expectation. The dream with the raven was not a usual setting, but she saw Pahadron's celestial stamp on certain features of it, and knew he approved. The times in between, alone, in the wilderness, were fruitful times of training, meditation, and study, but also times of lonely suffering, knowing she couldn't be part of the communities she sought to do good for in the times she was called. The excitement of opportunity to go to work nearly always made her forget the discomfort of her isolation, and she was quick to pack and walk however many miles it was to this unknown inn. For her, it's a journey of a couple of days, with the surety of her guide's direction to find the town and the specific inn.
She recognizes the inn itself, squat and sleeping, and the odd detail of the barmaid's recognition seems likewise part of the plan. In many places that Pahadron has sent her before, there were specific encounters that she was to look for that would make clear the work that was to be done. This one seems obvious enough. Meriele smiles at Rosemerta and follows her into the back room. She nods in assent at the woman's information about the accommodations, and looks about the room once the barmaid departs.
Meriele is not tall, and wears a long, tight-woven, undyed wool robe with an ample hood, belted sturdily at the waist. She would appear to the glance of many as some sort of cloistered woman, a student, perhaps, or a monastic. It is difficult to mistake her shimmering eyes, though, and the luminous marks on her skin, when her face is seen under the hood. She pushes the hood back just a bit as she sees the Genasi seated at the fireplace. Meriele's face and eyes, lit so strangely by celestial light, are clearly visible now, and what stray strands of her hair can be seen are pure white. She smiles welcomingly at the other of unaccustomed appearance.
"Well met, stranger," she says. "You must be one of the friends that Rosemerta spoke of. My name is Meriele, and it is my honor."
Entering third is what looks like to he a well dressed but extremely sickly half elf. Pale skin is framed by shoulder length red hair that is pulled back to show his face and pointed ears. His face is gaunt with hallow cheeks, his eyes a dull brown with a few flecks of green in them. To finish his rather unsettling appearance are his clothes which look to be those of a well paid servant, all of it it black except for a few crimson trimmings. The only accessory is a necklace that holds a red crystal.
(The clothes are right but imagine him a lot more pale and sickly with the hair being red.)
Daveth will sit at the table and look over the others while mainly remaining silent. With slow movements he will take the Stein of ale and start to sip at it. "I am called Daveth, it is a pleasure to meet all of you." He will finally say once everyone enters the room.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Giles Serpentflower walks into the room right behind Rosemerta, the fourth to join the party. Rosemerta is carrying a heavy tray with glasses, dishes and flatware for the gathering. She knows how to multitask and runs the Dragon with skill, but as anyone could, was about have an accident with the wine glasses for the evening. Giles was walking a little close behind her, and as she entered the room, coming over the lip of the step, one of the large glasses in back started to fall to the right side. Quick as a wink, Giles hand shot out and a slight mumble under his breath and the glass floats in the air, Rosemerta none the wiser. You see the glass float up in the air and get deposited back on the tray as she walks with no broken glass, no loud clatter. You may not have noticed, unless you were directly watching while this occurred. Giles smiles to himself, straightens up and keeps walking into the room.
Giles is a 6 foot human with ruffled dark brown hair, a moustache and goatee with blue eyes and a weathered face. He is wearing a dark blue leather coat lined with fur, won at a table of cards after Giles took a liking to it. He has leather armor on underneath and moves with an easy grace into the room, smiling at all of you. He looks like a gambling man, someone you might meet at a table throwing dice, someone that could hold his share of liquor. He is rolling a coin down his fingers as he sits at the table, almost unaware that he is doing so.
Coin :
After he greets you all, sitting at the table, his demeanor almost completely... changes. He seems very calm, he straightens his shirt and his hair, and he has a face of a priest that would take your confession. Nodding somberly at times, when appropriate during conversation, Giles appears to be the antithesis of the man who walked through the door. You are puzzling over this change in his behavior when he says to you all, "Did you all dream of the raven as well? My lady indicated that I should pursue this, that we could all ... help each other here. I am most intrigued. It is a pleasure to meet you all, my name is Giles."
Ellara enters the room. She's a young, tall woman with leaf-green skin and long black hair, though in the light it appears to have a dark green hue. Her eyes are a piercing shade of golden, with irises slightly larger than what seems normal. Pointed ears poke through her hair, though unlike most folk with pointed ears, they appear to fork at the tips. Branches with small flowers on them seem to extend from her temples, curving around the back of her head, where they connect. She's wearing simple traveler's clothes under a fur-lined jacket, and appears to be fairly well-muscled.
She sits down off to the side, not trying to appear unapproachable but not making an effort to seem approachable either.
Meriele turns from the woman seated at the fire and nods to the others as they come in, saying, "My honor," in response to any greetings and introductions. Her gaze lingers the longest, as if with concern, on the sickly, pale half elf. As the others seat themselves at the table, she joins them, attempting to make eye contact with each one with a friendly smile. The luminous glow of her eyes might make this unsettling. She responds to Giles' question. "Yes, I dreamed of a raven. I often have dreams with instructions. It seems that we are waiting for someone who has a job for us; someone who is to fill this seat," she looks at the sixth chair at the head of the round table.
As Rosemerta escorts the final member of the party into the room she smiles at the group of you. "As I understand it, and I can't say I understand much, this is all of you that are expected this evening. I have been instructed to care for any needs you have, which at this point I would imagine would include a meal. And then show you to your rooms for the evening. Oh, what's this? This was not here before."
She looks at the place setting at the "head" of the table, where a not card now appears. A monogrammed letter D appears on the front of a card of fine linen paper the color of a blooming lilac. You all are completely certain that that card was not on the table when you arrived, and yet no one has entered the room and placed it there either.
(When one of your number decides to read the card, please decide if you read this aloud to the group or to yourself)
As you pick up the note card you find it is written in a fine but tight script, the letters fighting for breathing room while the space between the lines are valleys of unexplored territory.
"Greetings travelers. I will apologize for my rudeness of not attending you in person. Many great and powerful things move in the cosmos, and one such as I must be circumspect in how I act upon this plane. In that border area between this world and the Ethereal, that is where I can make myself most known and talk to you more directly. I am afraid outside of it my abilities must be more curtailed.
Please enjoy your evening and those things which the Sleeping Dragon has to offer. While under my employ you are to consider this place a second home. Rosemerta will see that all of your needs are taken care of and obtain any supplies you believe you will need for your journeyings. We will talk more this evening in the Dream about what tasks lay before you and what recompense you can expect. For the time being please get to know those in your company, as if all accept my offer tonight you will need to come to trust each other in the days ahead.
Please give my regards to Rosmerta. Her kindness will be rewarded in kind.
Until tonight.
You may call me The Dreamer.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Giles goes to the head of the table and quickly skims the card, turns to Rosemerta and says, "Our host has said that you will take care of our needs and see to our supplies while he or she has need of our skills. He wishes us to give you his kind regards and says that you will be well rewarded. Thank you Rosemerta."
After Rosemerta leaves the room, Giles then turns to the rest of the crew, reading the rest of the note aloud. "The Dreamer. Hmmm. It sounds like we will get more information tonight after we go to sleep, we shall be contacted in our dreams again. How interesting. Have any of you ever heard of anything like this before? I wonder what we will be asked to do..." Giles pours himself another glass of wine, saying "Better sleep well tonight. D said for us to get to know each other. Anyone want to go first? 20 questions? Never have I ever...?"
Ellara blinks. "I don't know what those are."
Giles says “Fine. No worries. Something I heard about once, in social games and at parties and so forth. Ever go to those? Hmmm, guess not. Well, perhaps we go around the room and everyone.. share.. as much as you are comfortable with about your past, about what you can do, who you are, and why the Raven might have called you here. Sound dandy? Do you want me to go first?”
Daveth clears his throat, moving to pull out a small vial that he adds to his drink before finishing it in a single gulp. I shall start us off. You may call me Daveth, servant of the great Duke Bomaro. My fighting capabilities are limited but consist of a small knowledge of magic."
As he finishes speaking he returns to his seat, his hollow eyes focusing clearly on the next person to speak.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
As each of the others enters the room, Oridee looks them over, but doesn't try to introduce herself or make small talk. She does smile back when the kindly hooded woman smiles at her, though.
She listens to the note the human - Giles - reads, and wonders about the Dreamer, and what his motivations are for gathering all of them together here.
After Daveth introduces himself, Oridee stands up and chimes in.
'I'm Oridee,' she says. 'I fight most nights at the Sword and Shield,' naming an inn in the seedier part of town. 'I was probably called here because of these', she says, releasing her dagger sheaths, allowing both knives to suddenly fall into the palm of either hand. They're shiny, and sharp, and she enjoys watching people's startled reactions whenever she pulls that trick.
'I'm excited to see what the Dreamer has in store for us,' she says, sitting back down, and puts the knives away.
Ainsley Keenan - Level 6 Human Druid - The World Isn't Over ... Yet
Mostly available evenings EDT + Sunday; low activity on Fridays and Saturdays
Meriele listens and watches each person closely as they speak, and when they have finished, she stands to take her turn. "My name is Meriele," she says. "I serve a higher power not of this world, and I am training to fight, myself, though I pray my part will be small in the battle to right what is broken."
Her hands on the edge of the table, she leans towards Giles, making steady eye contact. "I do not have twenty, but I have some questions," she says softly. "Looking at each of us, I can see... we can all see... each of us is touched by a force that takes us out of the comfort of social community and acceptance, and visibly so." Her gaze turns to rest on the smoking red hair of the genasi, the pale bloodless countenance of the half-elf, and the hag wreath of the green lady, and then returns to Giles. "Except for you. You in fact seem as though you are terribly at home in the circles that are denied the rest of us. There is no visible mark for others to see and keep their distance. Does your presence here, compared with the rest of us, not seem odd?" Her glowing eyes stare at him as if probing.
Giles stands and smiles genially at Meriele, saying “I’m sorry that you have been denied access to social circles, perhaps it is a reality of your lineage that these opportunities are not as accessible to you. Let me reassure you that by no means am I a socialite.” As he delivers these words it is in the manner of a pastor addressing his congregation. He walks away from his chair for a moment and turns his back. When he turns back around, his visage is totally different.
He appears to you as socialite, with a fancy blue coat with silver trim on the sleeves, lapels. “I have been blessed by Lady Tymora with other skills, that are perhaps not overtly visible. These skills have helped me in adventures in the past and I hope will be helpful to us here now.” After he plays the part for a minute, he turns his back again and resumes the form that first walked in the room, not a pastor, not a party goer, but with messy ill kept hair, someone that you would meet in a tavern, going all in on his bet with you, he sidles up half sitting on the table.
“Just because someone’s gifts are not outwardly visible, doesn’t mean that they don’t have them.” With that he makes a subtle motion with his fingers and an invisible hand shoves her chair down with his telekinetic abilities, rocking her back into the chair instead of leaning forward toward him. He gives her a friendly smile and shrugs, finishing with a wink.
Pushed back into the chair suddenly while watching Giles' speech, Meriele sits hard. She startles at the sudden jar but keeps gazing at him, nodding as if something was confirmed to her by this act.
"That is a difference more than skin deep," she says. "The visibility. I saw you catch a glass invisibly when you came in, but there is no mark on you obvious to others. You can show many different faces---I think the rest of us here cannot. What do your faces protect? We do not know our job here, but if we must rely on one another, we must test where our allegiances are. Not where they are when things are pleasant, but where they are when danger and temptation threaten us...or our pride."
“Well, there’s the rub, isn’t it? In the letter it says “For the time being please get to know those in your company, as if all accept my offer tonight you will need to come to trust each other in the days ahead.” But how do you completely trust someone you just met? I understand how you might not trust me with my particular… skill set. I can honestly say that I mean none of you harm and I hope that I can help with the tasks that may be assigned to us. So, what should we do? Take an oath? I’m willing. I have been led here, I am sure of it.” Giles looks to the others for their view point as well. “Next? Any other opinions about this?”
Ellara stands and clears her throat. "Ah, I'm Ellara," she says. "I'm a traveler, mostly. I can do a bit of magic, and I'm good with a sword. I imagine I look strange to you all--I'm what you might call a hexblood. I'm told my parents had difficulty conceiving, so they went to a nearby hag for assistance. They got me. Needless to say, they weren't too pleased about it."
"So we are introduced then I would retiring for the night so that we may hear more from our mysterious benefactor." Daveth says as he pushes his chair out and then quickly and properly pushes into under the table. "Of course that is only a suggestion. I shall be doing just that, so if you have more need of me I will be in my room."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Giles nods, looking each in the eye. “Right, perhaps we should just leave it at that. I hope you all have a restful night, let’s see what news our dreams will bring.” Giles stands and steps outside to ask Rosemerta to show us to our rooms.