A regal-looking red dragonborn enters the bar. His scales are well polished, glistening in the dim light of the tavern, and the great sword slung over his back looks to be of fine quality. His heavy chainmail armor clinks softly with every step he takes. The noble Paladin is here on behalf of the Church of Bahamut, sent to investigate and, if at all possible, put an end to the dreadful curse spreading across this land.
As he crosses the tavern's threshold, the first thing that Firebrand notices is the hulking Goliath loudly telling stories of his great hunts. The dragonborn decides quickly that this man could make a valuable ally, so he cautiously approaches.
"Greetings, my good sir," Firebrand says, giving a courteous bow as soon as the giant notices him. "I must say, your exploits sound most impressive. Would you mind if I join you for a round of drinks? Don't worry, I'm not here to mooch; I have plenty of coin for my ale, and yours as well if you so desire."
A young bookish halfling with scrolls and books sticking out of his backpack walks into the bar, eyes blinking from the change in lighting and looks about for a spot to sit and refresh himself. After receiving a beer he settles back and looks about, taking note of the boisterous Goliath, Dragonborne, the haggard and weathered villager (he glances briefly with sympathy), and to the sorcerer he nods. He had been approached by the members of a local temple and the magic school where he worked at to check into this matter considering his background in archaeology and report back.
The Goliath turns to look as someone addresses him, he see the Dragonborn paladin standing before him and smiles. "Well met friend! I am Uthal Bearkiller, join us! You look to be strong of arm as well, I am sure you have your own stories to tell!" With that Uthal clasps his non-tankard hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder drawing him into the circle and turns back to the group of locals.
"And you may call me Firebrand," the dragonborn says to Uthal with a smile. "And I suppose I do have a story or two... I have on more than one occasion been tasked with eliminating undead threats. Bartender! Would you mind fetching us another round of drinks?"
The dragonborn tosses a gold coin onto the table for the ale, flashing the bartender a friendly smile.
"And you may call me Firebrand," the dragonborn says to Uthal with a smile. "And I suppose I do have a story or two... I have on more than one occasion been tasked with eliminating undead threats. Bartender! Would you mind fetching us another round of drinks?"
The dragonborn tosses a gold coin onto the table for the ale, flashing the bartender a friendly smile.
The bartender walks over with a couple mugs of ale. "Here yeh go." she says placing the ale on the table.
"Much obliged," Firebrand says, taking a swig of ale. "With such company as this, tonight is a good night indeed! Certainly a welcome break before I begin my holy mission."
A giant firbolg in leather armor and clothes in various greens and browns wanders the streets towards the tavern, his staff making a tapping noise every time it touches the ground as we walks. Desarian had made the trip into town from the wilderness to stock up on supplies, but since arriving, has been hearing rumors of a curse on almost everyone's lips. He had purchased what he had come for, then decided to make his way to the tavern to see if he could learn any more about this curse.
He ducks his head as he steps through the door, being careful not to bump it on the top of the frame. After taking a moment to let his eyes adjust, he glances around, then makes his way to the bar to order a drink while listens to the conversations around him.
Tytus locks his gaze with halfling while he glances, and listening intensly to chat at the bar. upon hearing about holy mission, stands and approches Firebrand. "I am sorry sire, but if by holy mission you maybe inquire about the curse, i would like to humbly offer my assistance, as such foul dealings trouble me myself. I am willing to unfold this mystery if you would have me at your side."
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Currently playing: DM - Dragon of Icespire Peak | Tytus Wolan - Warlock (Chronicles of the Accursed) | Biezdar Kamrazzan - Warrior (Icespire Peak)
You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer and merchant. A uniformed attendant leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor, then ushers you into a wood-paneled room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly paneled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled-up maps and charts.
A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. You can't discern the person's gender, because only the person's head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer's face. Even the person's dry, raspy voice provides you no clue. "Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourself friends --- I hope I may call you that."
"Do not apologize, good sir," the paladin says in response to Tytus' question, his tone suddenly becoming more serious. "You have indeed guessed rightly, I am here to seek out the source of this dreadful curse and, gods willing, put an end to it so that this land may be healed. If you wish to join me on my crusade, I am more than willing to accept your aid, though I feel it is my duty to say that this will likely be an extremely dangerous affair. But I suspect that you know that already, and would not have offered your services if you were unwilling to accept that danger."
When he and the others get to the home of Silvane, Firebrand bows respectfully to the seated person.
"I am happy to call one who offers me such hospitality a friend," Firebrand replies, gratefully taking a cup of wine.
Tytus takes time choosing the wine, murmuring to himself " I think i heard of this one before" picks the least sohisticated sort and pours himself a glass, sipping slowly. " I'm gratefull for the hospitality, please let me know how i can be of service" he says to the host.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Currently playing: DM - Dragon of Icespire Peak | Tytus Wolan - Warlock (Chronicles of the Accursed) | Biezdar Kamrazzan - Warrior (Icespire Peak)
Desarian takes in the others as they settle in at Syndra Silvane's. It seems to be quite the variety of people brought together by the invitation. He is curious what the invitation is about, but surely they will find out momentarily. In the meantime, he takes note of the shadowy figure seated before them, wondering if the person is sick. After hearing them speak, Desarian nods his agreement to the figure and takes a drink and a seat, but chooses to let the others speak first for now, waiting still to see what this meeting is about.
Uthal does not sit but stands behind the chairs that the others sit in. He grabs one of the glasses of wine and sniffs it, he holds it out looking at it oddly, shrugs, then gulps the glass down in one long swig. He says lowly to himself "Hmm, it aint ale, but not bad."He walks over to the table with the wine bottles and pours himself another glass.
“Greetings from the university. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Sam Tomblemee, but you can just call me Dr. Tombs. I was asked to come and assist however I can as my specialty is archeology and investigating tombs and crypts and such. “
A regal-looking red dragonborn enters the bar. His scales are well polished, glistening in the dim light of the tavern, and the great sword slung over his back looks to be of fine quality. His heavy chainmail armor clinks softly with every step he takes. The noble Paladin is here on behalf of the Church of Bahamut, sent to investigate and, if at all possible, put an end to the dreadful curse spreading across this land.
As he crosses the tavern's threshold, the first thing that Firebrand notices is the hulking Goliath loudly telling stories of his great hunts. The dragonborn decides quickly that this man could make a valuable ally, so he cautiously approaches.
"Greetings, my good sir," Firebrand says, giving a courteous bow as soon as the giant notices him. "I must say, your exploits sound most impressive. Would you mind if I join you for a round of drinks? Don't worry, I'm not here to mooch; I have plenty of coin for my ale, and yours as well if you so desire."
A young bookish halfling with scrolls and books sticking out of his backpack walks into the bar, eyes blinking from the change in lighting and looks about for a spot to sit and refresh himself. After receiving a beer he settles back and looks about, taking note of the boisterous Goliath, Dragonborne, the haggard and weathered villager (he glances briefly with sympathy), and to the sorcerer he nods. He had been approached by the members of a local temple and the magic school where he worked at to check into this matter considering his background in archaeology and report back.
D&D since 1984
The Goliath turns to look as someone addresses him, he see the Dragonborn paladin standing before him and smiles. "Well met friend! I am Uthal Bearkiller, join us! You look to be strong of arm as well, I am sure you have your own stories to tell!" With that Uthal clasps his non-tankard hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder drawing him into the circle and turns back to the group of locals.
"And you may call me Firebrand," the dragonborn says to Uthal with a smile. "And I suppose I do have a story or two... I have on more than one occasion been tasked with eliminating undead threats. Bartender! Would you mind fetching us another round of drinks?"
The dragonborn tosses a gold coin onto the table for the ale, flashing the bartender a friendly smile.
The bartender walks over with a couple mugs of ale. "Here yeh go." she says placing the ale on the table.
Join the Town of Agreal! ----> LINK
Check out my photography on Flickr. ----> LINK
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." - Oscar Wilde
"Much obliged," Firebrand says, taking a swig of ale. "With such company as this, tonight is a good night indeed! Certainly a welcome break before I begin my holy mission."
*By the way could you please put your characters in here. https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/35460332686320920*
Join the Town of Agreal! ----> LINK
Check out my photography on Flickr. ----> LINK
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." - Oscar Wilde
No problem!
A giant firbolg in leather armor and clothes in various greens and browns wanders the streets towards the tavern, his staff making a tapping noise every time it touches the ground as we walks. Desarian had made the trip into town from the wilderness to stock up on supplies, but since arriving, has been hearing rumors of a curse on almost everyone's lips. He had purchased what he had come for, then decided to make his way to the tavern to see if he could learn any more about this curse.
He ducks his head as he steps through the door, being careful not to bump it on the top of the frame. After taking a moment to let his eyes adjust, he glances around, then makes his way to the bar to order a drink while listens to the conversations around him.
Tytus locks his gaze with halfling while he glances, and listening intensly to chat at the bar. upon hearing about holy mission, stands and approches Firebrand. "I am sorry sire, but if by holy mission you maybe inquire about the curse, i would like to humbly offer my assistance, as such foul dealings trouble me myself. I am willing to unfold this mystery if you would have me at your side."
Currently playing: DM - Dragon of Icespire Peak | Tytus Wolan - Warlock (Chronicles of the Accursed) | Biezdar Kamrazzan - Warrior (Icespire Peak)
You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer and merchant. A uniformed attendant leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor, then ushers you into a wood-paneled room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly paneled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled-up maps and charts.
A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. You can't discern the person's gender, because only the person's head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer's face. Even the person's dry, raspy voice provides you no clue. "Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourself friends --- I hope I may call you that."
Join the Town of Agreal! ----> LINK
Check out my photography on Flickr. ----> LINK
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." - Oscar Wilde
"Do not apologize, good sir," the paladin says in response to Tytus' question, his tone suddenly becoming more serious. "You have indeed guessed rightly, I am here to seek out the source of this dreadful curse and, gods willing, put an end to it so that this land may be healed. If you wish to join me on my crusade, I am more than willing to accept your aid, though I feel it is my duty to say that this will likely be an extremely dangerous affair. But I suspect that you know that already, and would not have offered your services if you were unwilling to accept that danger."
When he and the others get to the home of Silvane, Firebrand bows respectfully to the seated person.
"I am happy to call one who offers me such hospitality a friend," Firebrand replies, gratefully taking a cup of wine.
Fushiguro raises an eyebrow at the shady figure before finding a seat. He nods his head at the others from the tavern.
"Greetings."
Discord play-by-post lover. Hater of westmarches. Just gimme some character driven gameplay please.
Tytus takes time choosing the wine, murmuring to himself " I think i heard of this one before" picks the least sohisticated sort and pours himself a glass, sipping slowly. " I'm gratefull for the hospitality, please let me know how i can be of service" he says to the host.
Currently playing: DM - Dragon of Icespire Peak | Tytus Wolan - Warlock (Chronicles of the Accursed) | Biezdar Kamrazzan - Warrior (Icespire Peak)
Desarian takes in the others as they settle in at Syndra Silvane's. It seems to be quite the variety of people brought together by the invitation. He is curious what the invitation is about, but surely they will find out momentarily. In the meantime, he takes note of the shadowy figure seated before them, wondering if the person is sick. After hearing them speak, Desarian nods his agreement to the figure and takes a drink and a seat, but chooses to let the others speak first for now, waiting still to see what this meeting is about.
Uthal does not sit but stands behind the chairs that the others sit in. He grabs one of the glasses of wine and sniffs it, he holds it out looking at it oddly, shrugs, then gulps the glass down in one long swig. He says lowly to himself "Hmm, it aint ale, but not bad." He walks over to the table with the wine bottles and pours himself another glass.
“Greetings from the university. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Sam Tomblemee, but you can just call me Dr. Tombs. I was asked to come and assist however I can as my specialty is archeology and investigating tombs and crypts and such. “
D&D since 1984
he looks about and gives a friendly smile to each and finds a seat.
D&D since 1984
Sam would like to discern if the host is undead or suffering from the conditions he heard about.
21
D&D since 1984
Tytus says to Dr. Tombs:" Greetings mister scholar." And looks around to see if there is something to eat along the wine.
Currently playing: DM - Dragon of Icespire Peak | Tytus Wolan - Warlock (Chronicles of the Accursed) | Biezdar Kamrazzan - Warrior (Icespire Peak)