((Doh! You rolled that as I was typing. Sorry Valen)).
Valen, casting your warrior-priest's eye over those in the Tavern you instantly separate them into the wheat and the chaff. One of the drunks is near comatose and has the look of a coward to your experienced gaze, his eyes frantically searching for a way out even as they try to track a room that's spinning wildly. One of the two barmaids is likewise unlikely to be of much use, a meek mousey woman who looks like she might faint deadway.
Garrock and the second barmaid are a different matter. Garrock may look the genteel innkeeper but you spot his calloused hands and the wiry, rope-like strength of someone who once lived a hard life. At your preaching, he seems to stand a little taller, eyes firming up with determination to defend his livelihood. The second barmaid, a tall and willowy woman with some elf in her ancestry captures your notice for the fire in her eyes and the determination in her step. At your exhortation, she yanks the cowardly drunk off his table and begins wrestling it toward the door.
The rest of the patrons, more sober than the cowardly drunk but seemingly ill-inclined to die for a tavern, no matter how good its service, spill out the front door past the struggling barmaid. Disappearing into the night in a rustle of rapid footsteps.
Aio stands as she takes the scroll case from the Duchess and nods.
"I will. If we are overrun." Aio says solemnly, tucking the case into her belt and drawing her short sword. She faces the door and readies herself for violence, calmly breathing in and out.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10) League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Erdan, peering out the window your keen eyes discern the forward elements of what appears to be a truly massive crowd. They march in a rabble, dressed in everything from long flowing robes to little more than rags. The single unifying feature is mask each wears. White porcelain with three black tears flowing from each eyeslit. As the flames of dozens of torches fall across these masks, they seem to shimmer, some very minor illusion causing them to appear momentarily decayed, broken and withered for a heartbeat before regaining their natural forms.
The front of the crowd moves forward, pushed by those behind. The din grows, the footfalls of the crowd mingling with furious shouts and the clash of cymbals and drums. Above the crowd on long poles, scales rise alongside puppets of men wearing sackcloth robes and rusted, cracked crowns. At their fore, you spy a large Dragonkin, the only one without a mask. He marches determinedly, his green-scales gleaming in the torchlight and the executioner's axe he carries in one meaty hand gleaming. He opens his mouth and brays a chant, which is instantly picked up by the crowd.
"None can cheat judgement." "None can cheat judgement." "None can cheat judgement."
Valen helps the woman to block the door and peers out the window with axe drawn, "Cowards with masks, too afraid to face an enemy in combat. Find some nails to seal the windows," he barks as the axe turns stools to scrap wood, "There's too many; we'll board the front, then everyone out the back. Garrack, if we get out of here, I'll personally secure funds with The Bastion to see the beginnings of a new tavern for you. If our venture with the Duchess here pays off, you could have a nice piece of business to be had running the local tavern in the middle of a booming duchy."
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
"Garrok" Dahme'dre says, calmly but with the added force and weight of Thaumaturgy, "It may be wise to avoid this confrontation. Let's not leave out the front door."
Valen quirks a sarcastic smile and an eyebrow while using the back of his axe to drive a nail into a stool leg as a makeshift window brace, "I believe that option was gone about the time the rabble rolled in."
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
Aio silently climbs to the second floor of the tavern, locating the windows and making sure that they are big enough for her to use in case she needed to make good on her promise to the Duchess. After assuring herself that they are, she makes her way back down to the first floor to stand with the others.
This Valen is as crazy as a loon. Is he always this bloodthirsty?
"Fight or flee, Duchess?" Aio asks the Lady softly, cocking her head to the side as she does.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10) League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
"While we are deciding, lets just get rid of the front door."
He grasps his arcane focus, does a quick motion with his free hand, and casts minor illusion (DC13) on the door. He will make the door (at least the outside of it) look like a continuation of the wall. He will recast it every 45 seconds just to make sure it doesn't drop. (Sagron, let me know if there are any issues with this. From my reading of the spell, I think this should be doable.)
"That should buy us a little bit of time. It won't really hold up to intense scrutiny. I do not think fighting a mob this large will be advantageous to our mission. And the Dragonkin at the front looks like he intends to chop off some heads."
With a devilish grin and a wink, he continues, "I can cause some chaos for us to make our escape, if you would like?"
"Might be good. There is honor in a good death, but nothing to be gained from throwing ourselves to the wolves."
(Who's bloodthirsty? ;P Valen may be eager to fight, but he's not suicidal. After all, he was the one who jumped at barricading the doors and windows to make a back-door exit.)
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
((Edran: I'll allow the minor illusion this time, but it actually can't create anything larger than a 5 foot cube and doors are taller than that. I'm going to rule that because you're creating a 2 dimensional image instead of a three dimensional one, you can use the lack of real depth to stretch the height a bit further than you normally could.))
((Valen: I'm going to ask that the Bastion not be called upon to cover expenses. Happy for more nebulous promises of assistance, but I'd prefer he not have access or be in a position to speak for the coffers until he's much more senior in the church hierarchy.))
The Cleft Skybreaker Tavern is a solid structure, if an old one. The bottom floor is grey stone, up until about chest height on an orc where stout wood replaces it as the material of choice. There are five circular tables within, counting yours and the one the barmaid has now levered against the illusion shrouded door. Light comes from the hearth in the southwall, and from wrought lamps on the walls. Two windows frame the hearth at equal intervals, and it was through one of these that Edran is looking out onto the advancing crowd.
A bar extends along the western wall, with various bottles stocked behind it. Behind the bar, accessible by a pair of doors on two way hinges, the kitchen can be seen. No one has emerged from there since the commotion started, and the sounds of cooking and cleaning are also absent. Kitchens like this will generally have a cellar, but you haven't seen it.
When Aio scouted upstairs, she found three locked doors, a lavatory and an unlocked and currently unused chamber with a simple bed and bedside table. The lavatory sits on one end of the hall, with a large window on the other side and the four rooms spaced along the corridor, two on each side.
Inspired by Valen's speech, Garrock leaps into action helping his barmaid wedge the table in place behind the now illusion screened door. The other patrons and the second barmaid flee into the kitchens, and you can hear a door slam open. Garrock snarls, "they'll be watching the back you foo..." but is caught off by a piercing scream.
Lady Bizmaria turns to Aio and replies with suddenly steely resolve, "they will not catch me in these streets, and I will make them pay dearly for underestimating me." At Edran's offer of causing chaos, she smiles a cold, arrogant grimace. On rapid feet, she glides up the stairs, bow and scroll-work arrow in hand. "Be ready to move, through the back or some other exit if you can find one" she orders you over her shoulder, "I will rejoin you on the road if I can. If not, Aio my plea stands. It stands for any who survive this night." , From outside, the roar of the crowd is now near deafening. The chanting rises to a crescendo, a near frenzied exultation as the crowd whips itself into a furor before with eerie synchronicity, falling completely silent. A booming voice, low and sibilant, with undertones of something ancient and without a hint of warm blood suddenly crashes out, seeming to shake the very walls with its resonance.
"You have been judged by a jury of your peers," it declares, before barking, "nay, your betters."Edran, you see that it is the Dragonkin at the front of the procession, dozens of white flickering masks flanking him on every side. "You would thwart the will of the Judge, you would challenge His rightful judgement? You would claim the Withering ended, without the blessing of His most just Arbiters?" The questions, while obviously rhetorical, produce howls of acclamation and fury from the crowd. "Look my brothers and sisters, they have hidden the door to their hole even as they would hide their sins from judgement," he preaches, provoking another scream from the crowd.
The Dragonkin pauses, raises both hands to either side in a dramatic gesture and turns to the crowd. "Jurists, cleanse their sins," he orders, and the crowd surges forward like a tide. A wave of hurled torches crashes against the windows, two breaking through and the rest clattering off your makeshift barricades. The still burning torches land, one on a table by Dahme'dre, and one by the remaining barmaid who screams in shock. Edran, the torch came through your window but apart from being showered in glass you're unscathed.
((Valen: I'm going to ask that the Bastion not be called upon to cover expenses. Happy for more nebulous promises of assistance, but I'd prefer he not have access or be in a position to speak for the coffers until he's much more senior in the church hierarchy.))
(No problem at all. As a lvl 1, he has just stepped out into the world as an agent of his Order, so his influence really only comes down to sending request/status letters and hoping for good things. Being the fervent, animated type, he would likely just build the funds himself if he couldn't secure anything from The Bastion. As a fair warning, the same would go for requesting direct intervention and/or assistance later. Valen may be the eyes and ears in the world, but he's not the only one. Where he may find a den of 30 gnolls looking to pillage, his request for aid is denied or postponed due to an impending army of 2000 orcs closer to home.)
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
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(Not at all on too much action. The only thing I would've dine before the torches was make a snarky comment about needing an army to open a door.)
Valen will rush to the window, shield raised to just under his eyes and begin calling for righteous fire to pierce either the dragonkin or, if applicable, the nearest masked rioter if they are charging for doors/windows. "Bring your Judge, cretins," the cleric calls out, "Mine is a God of Battle and my patron within has invoked the aid of The Bastion. She stands behind strong Walls with cleansing Hands at her side."
(Sacred Flame needs a DEX save, DC 13 or they take 1 radiant damage. Also, Intimidation check, if allowed? 20)
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: I'm a fan of the pacing, Sagron. Well-done. Also, you're doing much better at conveying thoughts, images, and ideas than the DM in our other shared game. Oh, and understanding what was written. Great job so far.)
Aio makes her way up the stairs, ready to leap from the window and take to the air at a moment's notice. Before she does, however, she stands behind the Duchess in a show of support.
"I have but a few darts to loose from the window. I fear I may not be equipped to help you beyond my role as a messenger." Aio says softly, trying to mimic the Lady's speech. She looks out at the surging crowd and the feathers around her neck stand stiff.
With those numbers, this woman will be dead as a dodo in no time. Hopefully she has a way to get clear if they swarm the place.
Dahme'dre resists the urge to pry open the door and show these people the clarity of their folly. She takes a breathe and picks up the torch, handing it off to no one where her spare hand awaits. She approaches the window and replies.
"You speak of bringing Justice while beyond these walls the land suffers in chaos. The Lawless thrive under The Withering. It is not The Judge who has protected this bastion of sanity. But by your deads, in his name, Order is lost! even here. Judge first yourselves!"
(Sagron, you're doing exceptionally. It's difficult to believe you've not done this many times before.)
(Simmon, I love how your every thought is a comparison to birds... My favorite characters in PbP have some aspect of their character that is subtly mentioned in nearly every post.)
(I may have rolled the wrong skill back there, but just in case it wasn't obvious, Valen is trying to stall to distract the crowd so others can slip out. May have wanted Deception instead.)
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
(OOC: Thank you for noticing the bird idioms. I had planned on being more subtle with them and having people figure it out later on, but I got a little excited at the prospect and may have overdone it :) )
((Doh! You rolled that as I was typing. Sorry Valen)).
Valen, casting your warrior-priest's eye over those in the Tavern you instantly separate them into the wheat and the chaff. One of the drunks is near comatose and has the look of a coward to your experienced gaze, his eyes frantically searching for a way out even as they try to track a room that's spinning wildly. One of the two barmaids is likewise unlikely to be of much use, a meek mousey woman who looks like she might faint deadway.
Garrock and the second barmaid are a different matter. Garrock may look the genteel innkeeper but you spot his calloused hands and the wiry, rope-like strength of someone who once lived a hard life. At your preaching, he seems to stand a little taller, eyes firming up with determination to defend his livelihood. The second barmaid, a tall and willowy woman with some elf in her ancestry captures your notice for the fire in her eyes and the determination in her step. At your exhortation, she yanks the cowardly drunk off his table and begins wrestling it toward the door.
The rest of the patrons, more sober than the cowardly drunk but seemingly ill-inclined to die for a tavern, no matter how good its service, spill out the front door past the struggling barmaid. Disappearing into the night in a rustle of rapid footsteps.
Aio stands as she takes the scroll case from the Duchess and nods.
"I will. If we are overrun." Aio says solemnly, tucking the case into her belt and drawing her short sword. She faces the door and readies herself for violence, calmly breathing in and out.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Erdan, peering out the window your keen eyes discern the forward elements of what appears to be a truly massive crowd. They march in a rabble, dressed in everything from long flowing robes to little more than rags. The single unifying feature is mask each wears. White porcelain with three black tears flowing from each eyeslit. As the flames of dozens of torches fall across these masks, they seem to shimmer, some very minor illusion causing them to appear momentarily decayed, broken and withered for a heartbeat before regaining their natural forms.
The front of the crowd moves forward, pushed by those behind. The din grows, the footfalls of the crowd mingling with furious shouts and the clash of cymbals and drums. Above the crowd on long poles, scales rise alongside puppets of men wearing sackcloth robes and rusted, cracked crowns. At their fore, you spy a large Dragonkin, the only one without a mask. He marches determinedly, his green-scales gleaming in the torchlight and the executioner's axe he carries in one meaty hand gleaming. He opens his mouth and brays a chant, which is instantly picked up by the crowd.
"None can cheat judgement."
"None can cheat judgement."
"None can cheat judgement."
Valen helps the woman to block the door and peers out the window with axe drawn, "Cowards with masks, too afraid to face an enemy in combat. Find some nails to seal the windows," he barks as the axe turns stools to scrap wood, "There's too many; we'll board the front, then everyone out the back. Garrack, if we get out of here, I'll personally secure funds with The Bastion to see the beginnings of a new tavern for you. If our venture with the Duchess here pays off, you could have a nice piece of business to be had running the local tavern in the middle of a booming duchy."
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
"Garrok" Dahme'dre says, calmly but with the added force and weight of Thaumaturgy, "It may be wise to avoid this confrontation. Let's not leave out the front door."
Extended Signature
Valen quirks a sarcastic smile and an eyebrow while using the back of his axe to drive a nail into a stool leg as a makeshift window brace, "I believe that option was gone about the time the rabble rolled in."
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
Aio silently climbs to the second floor of the tavern, locating the windows and making sure that they are big enough for her to use in case she needed to make good on her promise to the Duchess. After assuring herself that they are, she makes her way back down to the first floor to stand with the others.
This Valen is as crazy as a loon. Is he always this bloodthirsty?
"Fight or flee, Duchess?" Aio asks the Lady softly, cocking her head to the side as she does.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
(What's the layout of the tavern? Stairs, basement, adjoining structures?)
(Secret bolt holes... =P )
Extended Signature
"While we are deciding, lets just get rid of the front door."
He grasps his arcane focus, does a quick motion with his free hand, and casts minor illusion (DC13) on the door. He will make the door (at least the outside of it) look like a continuation of the wall. He will recast it every 45 seconds just to make sure it doesn't drop. (Sagron, let me know if there are any issues with this. From my reading of the spell, I think this should be doable.)
"That should buy us a little bit of time. It won't really hold up to intense scrutiny. I do not think fighting a mob this large will be advantageous to our mission. And the Dragonkin at the front looks like he intends to chop off some heads."
With a devilish grin and a wink, he continues, "I can cause some chaos for us to make our escape, if you would like?"
"Might be good. There is honor in a good death, but nothing to be gained from throwing ourselves to the wolves."
(Who's bloodthirsty? ;P Valen may be eager to fight, but he's not suicidal. After all, he was the one who jumped at barricading the doors and windows to make a back-door exit.)
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
(Alright! I debated between Minor Illusion and Mage Hand. I made the right choice with Illusion's effective use already in the party.)
Extended Signature
((Edran: I'll allow the minor illusion this time, but it actually can't create anything larger than a 5 foot cube and doors are taller than that. I'm going to rule that because you're creating a 2 dimensional image instead of a three dimensional one, you can use the lack of real depth to stretch the height a bit further than you normally could.))
((Valen: I'm going to ask that the Bastion not be called upon to cover expenses. Happy for more nebulous promises of assistance, but I'd prefer he not have access or be in a position to speak for the coffers until he's much more senior in the church hierarchy.))
The Cleft Skybreaker Tavern is a solid structure, if an old one. The bottom floor is grey stone, up until about chest height on an orc where stout wood replaces it as the material of choice. There are five circular tables within, counting yours and the one the barmaid has now levered against the illusion shrouded door. Light comes from the hearth in the southwall, and from wrought lamps on the walls. Two windows frame the hearth at equal intervals, and it was through one of these that Edran is looking out onto the advancing crowd.
A bar extends along the western wall, with various bottles stocked behind it. Behind the bar, accessible by a pair of doors on two way hinges, the kitchen can be seen. No one has emerged from there since the commotion started, and the sounds of cooking and cleaning are also absent. Kitchens like this will generally have a cellar, but you haven't seen it.
When Aio scouted upstairs, she found three locked doors, a lavatory and an unlocked and currently unused chamber with a simple bed and bedside table. The lavatory sits on one end of the hall, with a large window on the other side and the four rooms spaced along the corridor, two on each side.
Inspired by Valen's speech, Garrock leaps into action helping his barmaid wedge the table in place behind the now illusion screened door. The other patrons and the second barmaid flee into the kitchens, and you can hear a door slam open. Garrock snarls, "they'll be watching the back you foo..." but is caught off by a piercing scream.
Lady Bizmaria turns to Aio and replies with suddenly steely resolve, "they will not catch me in these streets, and I will make them pay dearly for underestimating me." At Edran's offer of causing chaos, she smiles a cold, arrogant grimace. On rapid feet, she glides up the stairs, bow and scroll-work arrow in hand. "Be ready to move, through the back or some other exit if you can find one" she orders you over her shoulder, "I will rejoin you on the road if I can. If not, Aio my plea stands. It stands for any who survive this night."
,
From outside, the roar of the crowd is now near deafening. The chanting rises to a crescendo, a near frenzied exultation as the crowd whips itself into a furor before with eerie synchronicity, falling completely silent. A booming voice, low and sibilant, with undertones of something ancient and without a hint of warm blood suddenly crashes out, seeming to shake the very walls with its resonance.
"You have been judged by a jury of your peers," it declares, before barking, "nay, your betters." Edran, you see that it is the Dragonkin at the front of the procession, dozens of white flickering masks flanking him on every side. "You would thwart the will of the Judge, you would challenge His rightful judgement? You would claim the Withering ended, without the blessing of His most just Arbiters?" The questions, while obviously rhetorical, produce howls of acclamation and fury from the crowd. "Look my brothers and sisters, they have hidden the door to their hole even as they would hide their sins from judgement," he preaches, provoking another scream from the crowd.
The Dragonkin pauses, raises both hands to either side in a dramatic gesture and turns to the crowd. "Jurists, cleanse their sins," he orders, and the crowd surges forward like a tide. A wave of hurled torches crashes against the windows, two breaking through and the rest clattering off your makeshift barricades. The still burning torches land, one on a table by Dahme'dre, and one by the remaining barmaid who screams in shock. Edran, the torch came through your window but apart from being showered in glass you're unscathed.
((OOC: Am I posting too much detail/action at once? ))
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
(Not at all on too much action. The only thing I would've dine before the torches was make a snarky comment about needing an army to open a door.)
Valen will rush to the window, shield raised to just under his eyes and begin calling for righteous fire to pierce either the dragonkin or, if applicable, the nearest masked rioter if they are charging for doors/windows. "Bring your Judge, cretins," the cleric calls out, "Mine is a God of Battle and my patron within has invoked the aid of The Bastion. She stands behind strong Walls with cleansing Hands at her side."
(Sacred Flame needs a DEX save, DC 13 or they take 1 radiant damage. Also, Intimidation check, if allowed? 20)
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: I'm a fan of the pacing, Sagron. Well-done. Also, you're doing much better at conveying thoughts, images, and ideas than the DM in our other shared game. Oh, and understanding what was written. Great job so far.)
Aio makes her way up the stairs, ready to leap from the window and take to the air at a moment's notice. Before she does, however, she stands behind the Duchess in a show of support.
"I have but a few darts to loose from the window. I fear I may not be equipped to help you beyond my role as a messenger." Aio says softly, trying to mimic the Lady's speech. She looks out at the surging crowd and the feathers around her neck stand stiff.
With those numbers, this woman will be dead as a dodo in no time. Hopefully she has a way to get clear if they swarm the place.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Dahme'dre resists the urge to pry open the door and show these people the clarity of their folly. She takes a breathe and picks up the torch, handing it off to no one where her spare hand awaits. She approaches the window and replies.
"You speak of bringing Justice while beyond these walls the land suffers in chaos. The Lawless thrive under The Withering. It is not The Judge who has protected this bastion of sanity. But by your deads, in his name, Order is lost! even here. Judge first yourselves!"
(Persuasion w/ Guidance: (3)26)
Extended Signature
(Damn, too much speech, Valen beat me to action.)
(Sagron, you're doing exceptionally. It's difficult to believe you've not done this many times before.)
(Simmon, I love how your every thought is a comparison to birds... My favorite characters in PbP have some aspect of their character that is subtly mentioned in nearly every post.)
Extended Signature
(I may have rolled the wrong skill back there, but just in case it wasn't obvious, Valen is trying to stall to distract the crowd so others can slip out. May have wanted Deception instead.)
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: Thank you for noticing the bird idioms. I had planned on being more subtle with them and having people figure it out later on, but I got a little excited at the prospect and may have overdone it :) )
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)