Maribor, the City of Mists, has always been a rough place. A home for pirates, brigands, plunderers, and thieves. At least until the Carasonian Empire came. Their legions established a new order and brought with them a new breed of plunderers and thieves. The old Lord-Mayor was happy to turn a blind eye to most of the illicit activity in the city walls as long as everyone paid their taxes and tariffs. But his recent death has brought an uncertainty to Maribor. The Emperor sent his child-brother to be the new Lord-Mayor and he has vowed to bring order and justice to the streets of Maribor, to make it a safe place for all imperial citizens to live. But there is a growing dissent in the streets and whispers of rebellion are growing louder.
It is morning and a light fog hangs over the city. A heavy chill has settled beneath the cliff walls that surround the city and the skies threaten snow as this winter seems to linger stubbornly longer than any in recent memory. The mood of the people in the streets is as gray and cold as the morning and as each of you are trying to decide on what to eat for breakfast a thin, dirty halfling thrust a papyrus wrapping into your hands "Your delivery Sir! Oh and your change...I almost forgot." He then drops a small cloth bag onto the package. You hear the familiar clink of coin in the bag. Before you can protest the halfling disappears into the crowd. You can smell the pleasant aroma of cooked meat wafting from the package and feel the oil seep through the wrappings. Upon opening the package you discover it contains 3 kippers, a popular breakfast fair among those that live along Sculler's Row. Inspection of the bag reveals it contains 7 silver nuggets, the type typically used by the local pirates, commonly called bells.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Are we all together? Do we know each other? Or does the halfling come to each of us separately?
Anyway Puziriaz gladly takes the money if it is given to him. "Why thank you little one. Honest labour is sooo hard to find these days." He turns to pat the halfling on the head but notices that he has left. He shrugs and puts the bells in his inner pocket.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of Guilds
The Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & Ruffians Eira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors Expanded
Roland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
Are we all together? Do we know each other? Or does the halfling come to each of us separately?
Anyway Puziriaz gladly takes the money if it is given to him. "Why thank you little one. Honest labour is sooo hard to find these days." He turns to pat the halfling on the head but notices that he has left. He shrugs and puts the bells in his inner pocket.
Urji looks over to the tiefling and says "I'm glad I could help." Then starts mumbling to himself before eating a kipper.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Three kippers and 7 bells.
This seems like a summons to a meeting, or a job offer, or perhaps a warning.
Not one to turn down a feed Tarvon began eating the kippers as he mulled over the meaning of his unexpected breakfast.
Intelligence check: 8
A summons to a meeting seemed the most likely answer to this mystery. Three kippers, hmmm. Scratching his bearded chin he ran the names of all the inns or taverns near Sculler's Row through his mind. He had to figure this out fast, someone, someone with resources wanted him for something. It would not do to be late. Enemies are one thing you don't want to make accidentally in Maribor, and pirate enemies, judging by the metaphor of the missive , doubly so.
Damn it, too early for this kind of brain work! Tarvon gobbled up the last of the kippers and set off down the street towards Sharky Millers place. Not much went on in this part of Maribor without Sharky knowing a thing or two about it. Of course getting him to part with said knowledge would most likely eat up all of the 7 bells he had just acquired, but there was no gain without investment.
The dragonborn, still half-asleep after getting the package. He opens it and finds a lovely breakfast with a small amount of peculiar silver.
"Hmm, this package might be connected to a pirate. Since it was directly delivered to me, he or she mustv'e wanted to learn more about the one and true faith, the only salvation to his poor soul. I cannot leave this person unguided, no matter what background, especially with those heretics spreading false beliefs."
He finishes his breakfast and gathers his equipment before heading out to Sculler's Row.
If there are limited choices of churches, please tell me. Otherwise I'll just make up one on the fly.
Maribor is not a place known for its faith. However, the Great Church of Carason has a temple here. There are also churches to: The Dweller in the Deep, The Red God, The Winter Queen, and The Lady of Harvest. However, being a dragonborn perhaps you worship The Storm Dragon or are a servant of the Church of the Three Sisters.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Emily blinked her bright blue eyes as she was handed money and fish. "Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed, before realizing the halfling fellow had already departed. With a shrug she found a perch and sat down to eat her unexpected breakfast. She had done enough work with the street kids in the city that it was not inconceivable that one of them had made it big and left her a little thank you, but she didn't believe that to be very likely, especially as the silver bells were commonly used by pirates.
When she had finished with the kippers and disposed of the parchment and bones she walked casually down to one of the taverns near the docks that sailors and pirates were want to frequent. She entered the Wanton Mermaid and sauntered up to the barkeep. "Mornin', Bubskip. Alrigh' if I set up in the fiddler's corner?" She said, asking him if the corner reserved for traveling bards and minstrels to play for whatever coin patrons were willing to throw their way was free for her to use. The barkeep nodded with a grunt. Emily replied with a "Cheers, matey." and went over to said corner, sat down on the stool and put her hat on the floor before running her fingers through her short, ash-blonde hair to fluff it up and pulling out her flute.
If the fish and coins meant something she'd no doubt be contacted soon enough.
Tarvon arrives at the workshop of Charquesz the bone-miller. Charquesz is a tall, pudgy man with thin wispy hair and a bulbous nose. The smell of fish and guano cling to him like a desperate ex-lover. As Tarvon enters the shop, Charquesz looks up, his face a mix of surprise and fear. "Are you insane? Coming here! The word is out on the street. Brogan has placed the Black Spot on yer head, and he has offered up a full hand of bloodrops to whoever claims the Spot. If it weren't fer the favor I owe ya, I would kill you myself. What by the Gods are ya doin' here?"
Bloodrops...the commoner's term for Imperial red-gold coins. Each one worth 30 silver drakes, and a full hand...a half-dozen! That is enough to keep the average resident of Maribor alive for 3 months. Life is hard in Maribor but Tarvon realizes it just got harder.
Charquesz raises his eyebrows questioningly "Well! What do you want?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Emily has just finished playing her first song when the bells rang out twice, marking the second hour since dawn. The bells were a recent addition to the Great Church and they rang out each hour after dawn until sundown. As Emily looked at her hat, the offerings were paltry even for this place, even for this hour. She got the feeling it wasn't going to be a good day. As she started to play her next tune a serving girl approached with a mug of warm blackwine, she leaned in close. "I heard those two shifty eyed louts at the bar talkin'. They was a discussin' if'n you were the street girl that trains up them other gutter rats, them is their words not mine. Anyways, it seems that Alistair, himself, is lookin' fer ya. I would be careful if'n I was you."
Alistair...just hearing the name was enough to cause your breath to catch in your throat. Alistair, the First Dagger of Maribor, there were dozens of stories about him on the street, the type of stories told in hushed whispers around the firelight. The kind of stories street people told each other to give themselves a fright or that marms told their youngins to scare them into going to sleep.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Kakaryn stops for a bit to appreciate the guiding bells of the Great Church of Carason and makes a small prayer, that it may bring the masses closer to the one and only true god. The dragonborn proceeds to the place where the breakfast came from.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Believer of the almighty one, the Alpha and the Omega, whose love encompasses all of his creations, RNGesus.
Started as a player at time of registration. Started to DM a month later. Hoping to get better as time progresses.
A sharp, cold blade of fear pierced Emily's stomach. "Gotcha. Thanks, luv." She murmured. Emily played a third song, mostly to try and appear as if the conversation with the barmaid was nothing suspicious. Emily then packed up her stuff faux-casually, as if she simply saw it was not a good day for busking, and then left with a friendly nod to the barkeep. Perhaps, it might keep Alistair on his toes if she were to appear before him before he sent goons after her. Of course, those two fellows the girl mentions might actually be said goons. She thought back to what she knew about the First Dagger and his hangouts.
What a blunder! Kakaryn cannot remember what place he should go. Embarassed by the current situation, he asks any nearby person on the vicinity of Sculler's Row for directions that sells this type of breakfast.
I guess this falls under investigation since I'm asking people around.
Investigation: 13, if this ability is under the skill you said, this is another roll 3 for advantage.
Not much is known about the First Dagger, other than some people say he is only a myth, others say he is immortal, and others say he is actually a local lord that secretly controls all the crime in Maribor. All sorts of stories surround Alistair, but the one place where you might find out is The Five Daggers tavern. Of course, you could also just wind up dead.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
"Seven blood drops eh? Looks like I'm moving up in Maribor." Tarvon frowned and reflexively checked the exits and dark corners of the room.
"Power is built on favours owed not friends, I will take the former over the later anytime Shark." Charquesz disliked that nickname, which is why he used it. A little reminder of who really held the cards in this relationship. "Favours, not favour. Be a pretty damn big favour if it were just one you scrub."
He moved over to a table and dropped the seven silver bells onto its surface. "These came with three kippers wrapped in paper. Delivered by a hairy footed street rat. I figure someone wants a meet and this is the directions, but it's too early for that kind of thinking." Putting a meaty scarred hand on Charquesz's shoulder he smiled, "I figured you'd put this together faster than me, I can save my thinking on how to game it."
Tarvon started drumming his fingers on the table, "Well, quicker you tell me the sooner me and my troubles will leave you."
Charquesz snarled at the mention of his "nickname". "It'll be just this last favor my 'friend'". he replied, with sarcasm heavy on the last word. "Brogan will have yer head long before you have a chance to collect on any more of those 'favors' yer thinkin' yer owed. But as far as yer message, I would start at The Three Kippers down in the market quarter. Now, get going before you git us both killed."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Don't get too cocky you old carrion bird, I may be walking on shale at the moment but there is always a path to firm ground."
His heavy calloused hand dropped to the pommel of his short sword slowly and deliberately, "Thank you for your help 'old friend', when I see my way clear of the Brogan mess I will come visit you again to 'thank you' and remind you what friends are for..."
Torval turns and leaves confidently through the front door.
"Time for a wee tot at the three kippers." He murmured to himself.
He was going to be early, that may put whoever sent the message off balance, if so good. "And if I be drunk then so be it, there are far worse states to be in." With a rueful chuckle he walked off down the street, though now more cautious of his surroundings after the news about the price on his head.
Maribor, the City of Mists, has always been a rough place. A home for pirates, brigands, plunderers, and thieves. At least until the Carasonian Empire came. Their legions established a new order and brought with them a new breed of plunderers and thieves. The old Lord-Mayor was happy to turn a blind eye to most of the illicit activity in the city walls as long as everyone paid their taxes and tariffs. But his recent death has brought an uncertainty to Maribor. The Emperor sent his child-brother to be the new Lord-Mayor and he has vowed to bring order and justice to the streets of Maribor, to make it a safe place for all imperial citizens to live. But there is a growing dissent in the streets and whispers of rebellion are growing louder.
It is morning and a light fog hangs over the city. A heavy chill has settled beneath the cliff walls that surround the city and the skies threaten snow as this winter seems to linger stubbornly longer than any in recent memory. The mood of the people in the streets is as gray and cold as the morning and as each of you are trying to decide on what to eat for breakfast a thin, dirty halfling thrust a papyrus wrapping into your hands "Your delivery Sir! Oh and your change...I almost forgot." He then drops a small cloth bag onto the package. You hear the familiar clink of coin in the bag. Before you can protest the halfling disappears into the crowd. You can smell the pleasant aroma of cooked meat wafting from the package and feel the oil seep through the wrappings. Upon opening the package you discover it contains 3 kippers, a popular breakfast fair among those that live along Sculler's Row. Inspection of the bag reveals it contains 7 silver nuggets, the type typically used by the local pirates, commonly called bells.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
ooc: I didn't quite get
- is the game started, am I (Ajax) in it?
- will it played here or in another thread?
,
It has started, you are in it, and it is being played here.And you don't have to use the ooc designator.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Are we all together? Do we know each other? Or does the halfling come to each of us separately?
Anyway Puziriaz gladly takes the money if it is given to him. "Why thank you little one. Honest labour is sooo hard to find these days." He turns to pat the halfling on the head but notices that he has left. He shrugs and puts the bells in his inner pocket.
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of GuildsThe Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & RuffiansEira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors ExpandedRoland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
Three kippers and 7 bells.
This seems like a summons to a meeting, or a job offer, or perhaps a warning.
Not one to turn down a feed Tarvon began eating the kippers as he mulled over the meaning of his unexpected breakfast.
Intelligence check: 8
A summons to a meeting seemed the most likely answer to this mystery. Three kippers, hmmm. Scratching his bearded chin he ran the names of all the inns or taverns near Sculler's Row through his mind. He had to figure this out fast, someone, someone with resources wanted him for something. It would not do to be late. Enemies are one thing you don't want to make accidentally in Maribor, and pirate enemies, judging by the metaphor of the missive , doubly so.
Damn it, too early for this kind of brain work! Tarvon gobbled up the last of the kippers and set off down the street towards Sharky Millers place. Not much went on in this part of Maribor without Sharky knowing a thing or two about it. Of course getting him to part with said knowledge would most likely eat up all of the 7 bells he had just acquired, but there was no gain without investment.
The dragonborn, still half-asleep after getting the package. He opens it and finds a lovely breakfast with a small amount of peculiar silver.
"Hmm, this package might be connected to a pirate. Since it was directly delivered to me, he or she mustv'e wanted to learn more about the one and true faith, the only salvation to his poor soul. I cannot leave this person unguided, no matter what background, especially with those heretics spreading false beliefs."
He finishes his breakfast and gathers his equipment before heading out to Sculler's Row.
If there are limited choices of churches, please tell me. Otherwise I'll just make up one on the fly.
Maribor is not a place known for its faith. However, the Great Church of Carason has a temple here. There are also churches to: The Dweller in the Deep, The Red God, The Winter Queen, and The Lady of Harvest. However, being a dragonborn perhaps you worship The Storm Dragon or are a servant of the Church of the Three Sisters.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Emily blinked her bright blue eyes as she was handed money and fish. "Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed, before realizing the halfling fellow had already departed. With a shrug she found a perch and sat down to eat her unexpected breakfast. She had done enough work with the street kids in the city that it was not inconceivable that one of them had made it big and left her a little thank you, but she didn't believe that to be very likely, especially as the silver bells were commonly used by pirates.
When she had finished with the kippers and disposed of the parchment and bones she walked casually down to one of the taverns near the docks that sailors and pirates were want to frequent. She entered the Wanton Mermaid and sauntered up to the barkeep. "Mornin', Bubskip. Alrigh' if I set up in the fiddler's corner?" She said, asking him if the corner reserved for traveling bards and minstrels to play for whatever coin patrons were willing to throw their way was free for her to use. The barkeep nodded with a grunt. Emily replied with a "Cheers, matey." and went over to said corner, sat down on the stool and put her hat on the floor before running her fingers through her short, ash-blonde hair to fluff it up and pulling out her flute.
If the fish and coins meant something she'd no doubt be contacted soon enough.
Performance roll: 10
Tarvon arrives at the workshop of Charquesz the bone-miller. Charquesz is a tall, pudgy man with thin wispy hair and a bulbous nose. The smell of fish and guano cling to him like a desperate ex-lover. As Tarvon enters the shop, Charquesz looks up, his face a mix of surprise and fear. "Are you insane? Coming here! The word is out on the street. Brogan has placed the Black Spot on yer head, and he has offered up a full hand of bloodrops to whoever claims the Spot. If it weren't fer the favor I owe ya, I would kill you myself. What by the Gods are ya doin' here?"
Bloodrops...the commoner's term for Imperial red-gold coins. Each one worth 30 silver drakes, and a full hand...a half-dozen! That is enough to keep the average resident of Maribor alive for 3 months. Life is hard in Maribor but Tarvon realizes it just got harder.
Charquesz raises his eyebrows questioningly "Well! What do you want?"
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Emily has just finished playing her first song when the bells rang out twice, marking the second hour since dawn. The bells were a recent addition to the Great Church and they rang out each hour after dawn until sundown. As Emily looked at her hat, the offerings were paltry even for this place, even for this hour. She got the feeling it wasn't going to be a good day. As she started to play her next tune a serving girl approached with a mug of warm blackwine, she leaned in close. "I heard those two shifty eyed louts at the bar talkin'. They was a discussin' if'n you were the street girl that trains up them other gutter rats, them is their words not mine. Anyways, it seems that Alistair, himself, is lookin' fer ya. I would be careful if'n I was you."
Alistair...just hearing the name was enough to cause your breath to catch in your throat. Alistair, the First Dagger of Maribor, there were dozens of stories about him on the street, the type of stories told in hushed whispers around the firelight. The kind of stories street people told each other to give themselves a fright or that marms told their youngins to scare them into going to sleep.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
Kakaryn stops for a bit to appreciate the guiding bells of the Great Church of Carason and makes a small prayer, that it may bring the masses closer to the one and only true god. The dragonborn proceeds to the place where the breakfast came from.
I am not sure where Kakaryn is going since the breakfast was delivered by a halfling who then disappeared into the crowd.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
A sharp, cold blade of fear pierced Emily's stomach. "Gotcha. Thanks, luv." She murmured. Emily played a third song, mostly to try and appear as if the conversation with the barmaid was nothing suspicious. Emily then packed up her stuff faux-casually, as if she simply saw it was not a good day for busking, and then left with a friendly nod to the barkeep. Perhaps, it might keep Alistair on his toes if she were to appear before him before he sent goons after her. Of course, those two fellows the girl mentions might actually be said goons. She thought back to what she knew about the First Dagger and his hangouts.
Knowledge(local) roll: 12
What a blunder! Kakaryn cannot remember what place he should go. Embarassed by the current situation, he asks any nearby person on the vicinity of Sculler's Row for directions that sells this type of breakfast.
I guess this falls under investigation since I'm asking people around.
Investigation: 13, if this ability is under the skill you said, this is another roll 3 for advantage.
Not much is known about the First Dagger, other than some people say he is only a myth, others say he is immortal, and others say he is actually a local lord that secretly controls all the crime in Maribor. All sorts of stories surround Alistair, but the one place where you might find out is The Five Daggers tavern. Of course, you could also just wind up dead.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
"Seven blood drops eh? Looks like I'm moving up in Maribor." Tarvon frowned and reflexively checked the exits and dark corners of the room.
"Power is built on favours owed not friends, I will take the former over the later anytime Shark." Charquesz disliked that nickname, which is why he used it. A little reminder of who really held the cards in this relationship. "Favours, not favour. Be a pretty damn big favour if it were just one you scrub."
He moved over to a table and dropped the seven silver bells onto its surface. "These came with three kippers wrapped in paper. Delivered by a hairy footed street rat. I figure someone wants a meet and this is the directions, but it's too early for that kind of thinking." Putting a meaty scarred hand on Charquesz's shoulder he smiled, "I figured you'd put this together faster than me, I can save my thinking on how to game it."
Tarvon started drumming his fingers on the table, "Well, quicker you tell me the sooner me and my troubles will leave you."
Urji packs the rest of his kippers as he lost interest in them. The silver shows a familiar face and looks closer confused "Who are you my friend?"
Investigation: 7
Charquesz snarled at the mention of his "nickname". "It'll be just this last favor my 'friend'". he replied, with sarcasm heavy on the last word. "Brogan will have yer head long before you have a chance to collect on any more of those 'favors' yer thinkin' yer owed. But as far as yer message, I would start at The Three Kippers down in the market quarter. Now, get going before you git us both killed."
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
"Don't get too cocky you old carrion bird, I may be walking on shale at the moment but there is always a path to firm ground."
His heavy calloused hand dropped to the pommel of his short sword slowly and deliberately, "Thank you for your help 'old friend', when I see my way clear of the Brogan mess I will come visit you again to 'thank you' and remind you what friends are for..."
Intimidation24
Torval turns and leaves confidently through the front door.
"Time for a wee tot at the three kippers." He murmured to himself.
He was going to be early, that may put whoever sent the message off balance, if so good. "And if I be drunk then so be it, there are far worse states to be in." With a rueful chuckle he walked off down the street, though now more cautious of his surroundings after the news about the price on his head.
Perception8