Three years. Three years since the second expedition has managed to establish a foothold on the new continent of Tyrannis. Though the land is unwelcoming, the town of Dawn’s Point serves as the singular bastion of imperial civilization. Behind its walls, people of all kind live their lives: merchants, craftsmen, soldiers, etc.
But you are different. You are adventurers. You crossed the Great Blue Veil by boat, because your skills are in high demand. Many like you offer their services and talents to accomplish tasks. People see you as either very brave or very foolish for trying to mess with the wildlife of Tyrannis.
Our story begins with the four of you. You’ve arrived about two days ago on a ship called the White Marlin. It’s a somewhat cloudy day today, with some rays of sunlight here and there. You are walking in the lower district docks. The smell of salty sea water is all around you. Sailors are working, carrying boxes both large and small, or making repairs on the hull of ships. You are heading to your destination: the Wailing Wench. The establishment is an inn, but is rather unremarkable. A two-stories wooden building with stone foundations. Small windows on the side let a little natural light enter. As you open the door, it creaks loudly.
But who are the four intrepid adventurers that walk through the door.
The door creaks as a five-and-a-half-foot tall raven enters the Wailing Wench. His jet-black feathers are brushed back immaculately and they gleam faintly in the light; either they are naturally oily or the Kenku must use a palm-aid like product to get that kind of shine. Gender is not obvious based on his visible avian physiology, but he is wearing a finely crafted vest, jacket and pants in a pinstripe of grey and black, with a white collared dress shirt underneath, all of it tailored in a masculine fashion. His feet are unshod, his clawed toes making a 'clik-clik' sound as he walks on the wooden floor, though he does have a black scarf-like accessory tied to each lower leg at the ankle, like a footless sock. A small set of spectacles rests on his beak in front of his eyes and he has a wheeled chest which he is dragging along behind him. A longsword in a plain black scabbard hangs off his belt on one hip.
He pauses as the door creaks... then opens it a bit more (creak)... then closes it a bit (creak)... ... then opens it fast (CREAK)... ... ... ... then opens it and closes it repeatedly (creak-creak-creak-creak-creak). He cocks his head to one side thoughtfully, then turns back to the interior of the inn and lets the door shut on its own (creak). Small, beady black eyes scan the room.
His beak opens. "Mornin'," he announces to the establishment. The voice that emerges is out of place. It is deep and has the inflection of a sailor. Then he pauses, making a low clicking sound with his beak as he waits, perhaps for a reply.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The creaking door to the Wailing Wench has barely closed behind the bespectacled kenku before it is forcibly opened with a loud (CREAK) revealing a hulking brute of man, hunching slightly to get inside. His blonde hair and beard is unkempt but his muscles bulge, as he straightens up inside the tavern, glancing around, almost not noticing the kenku in front of him. His chest is bare but at least he wears leather pants and sturdy boots, all quite worn by the looks of it. The massive man carries a crude backpack and a huge maul is hoisted over his powerful shoulder. The warrior seems like a walking arsenal with two axes tucked into his belt and a number of throwing spears protruding behind his back. To finish up the picture of this obvious barbarian of the cold northern reaches is a horn by his belt inscribed with the crude runes of the north.
The blonde bearded warrior does not stand to greet anyone inside, instead he walks with powerful steps over to the bar, turning to the nearest person, whether they would be a barkeeper or not. "Your largest beer!"He gruffly demands, dropping his gear to the floor beside him.
The door creaks open once again, just as loudly as it did when the barbarian entered, and any curious individuals within the Wailing Wench look over at the door to find... absolutely nothing. And then they each look a bit below eye-level and collectively realize their mistake. Into the establishment walks a gnome, just over 3 feet tall, with light skin and messy brown hair. On each of his hips there is an axe, and strapped to his back is a hammer far too big for him to ever hold, much less use. The head of it almost reaches his hips, while the handle goes a bit above his hair. As he walks to the bar, his chainmail lightly clinks, though it is drowned out by the ambient chatter.
He jumps up onto a stool next to the barbarian, and jovially addresses a bartender with a smile."Your smallest beer!"
If anybody takes a closer look, they'll find that the gnome is actually quite thin and wiry beneath his armor. On some parts of his body that are exposed, such as his forearms and the base of his neck, strange tattoos can be seen, seemingly displaying some sort of text. Inscriptions similar to the tattoos are visible on the head of one of his axes, as well as along the upper half of his maul.
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Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
A young girl--barefoot, bright-eyed, and no more than 12 summers and 4'6 inches tall--squeezes past another patron in the doorway, who scrunches their nose at the little wizard's very ripe scent. With her fiery red hair (a veritable rat's nest for all its knots and tangles and debris), an oversized scarf not at all befitting the weather, and a spellbook carried like a school child's backpack, it's fair to say she stands out amongst the customers of the Wailing Wench and, indeed, the whole town of Dawn's Point.
Humming off-key to herself, Ember Granddaughter waltzes in ahead of the other patron and immediately sniffs at the air. Food. A recently vacated table finds its plates all but cleared as the little wizard grabs handfuls of scraps, which she munches on as she takes in her surroundings. A small red squirrel pops its head out from within her mop of hair, likewise assessing this new environment, before hiding away again. "Don't be scared, Aggie. This is the place! Now we just have to find, uuumm... Brugg!" she says to the familiar, wiping a greasy hand across her mouth and then on her tattered shift dress.
As you all enter the tavern, you realize that it's not a particularly well-refined establishment. Though it's nearly empty at this time of day, you can assume that the sailors outside are probably regulars of this place. Walking in, you can feel the ground is somewhat sticky, and with the surrounding smell, it's clear that many an ale as been spilled on the ground. The inside is fairly open with the tables and chairs set to the sides. On the other side of the room, behind the counter, you see a human man. He's wearing a dirty shirt with a stained apron over it. He has a receding hairline of dark red hair and a healthy bear gut. He looks bewildered by the sight of the four of you.
The man raises an eyebrow and gives a offhand waive at the kenku.
When the walking tower of muscules walks in, his heads jerks backward a little. He then quickly looks for the biggest tankard he can find and fills it with ale. "He...Here you go, sir."
He then looks down to the gnome and repeats the same process but this time with a wine cup. "And to you." He then raises an eyebrow and addresses the three of you. "Haven't seen you lot around before? When did ya arrive into town?"
Before anyone has time to answer, he hears the rattling of plates from behind the barbarian and tries to look over its shoulder, just in time to see a little girl chowing down on the remains of a greassy plate of sausages and baby potatoes. He runs out from behind the counter and yells.
"Hey! No kids allowed in here! You gonna pay for that, little miss? Come on, git outta here!"
“Oh no no no,” the little pyro says in her lilting accent, cheeks full of food like a hamster as she wags a finger at the balding man. “I’m not a kid! Or a little miss! I’m—“ she strikes a pose with both hands on her hips, “—an adventurer! And I’m here with my, um…” she glances about and her eyes light on the kenku by the door. Sidling up beside him, bare feet stickied by the ale-covered floor, she announces confidently, “with my adventuring partner!”
The massive bearded warrior feels right at home in the not-so-refined tavern with it's sticky floor. Taverns were the only good thing civilization had brought. Whilst waiting for his beer, he scans the tap room to see if this Brugg was present but he only sees a weird bird-man, a little runt of a gnome and a girl, having a hard time deciding which of them he felt was most out of place at the Wailing Wench. He lets on a small smile as he notices the squirrel peek out of her unruly red hair and wondered if the girl was even aware it had made a nest there, maybe it even had a big stash of acorns in there somewhere he thought with a deep chuckle, his own massive hand going to a pouch by his belt, making sure Mr. Bleeches was alright in there.
As the barkeeper gets him his biggest tankard of ale, the massive blonde warrior huffs and gulps it all down. "Another one!" He says loudly in a demanding tone, throwing the now empty tankard to the floor as was tradition with his tribe. As the barkeeper confronts the child his eyes narrows as she claims the bird-man is her partner, but then he shakes his head and lets the thought go. Thinking too much always made his head ache, so what if they were partners, it was no business of his. "Just arrived, looking for Brugg."Thurodim says to the barkeeper, expecting him to let the girl be and instead give the massive blonde warrior the attention he deserved. He never used more words than necessary, too many words only seemed to confuse him and that made him angry, and being angry never ended well with the massive blonde warrior.
The Kenku was looking distatefully and the bottoms of his feet after having stepped on a sticky patch, and was mere moments away from making his own inquiry as to the whereabouts of Brugg, when the young girls sidles up to him and declares them friends and partners.
He is taken aback, first eyeing the girl's hands to make sure neither was reaching for his coin purse or some other street urchin tomfoolery. Then, seeing the eyes of the girl, the innkeep, and perhaps the others all looking to him, he realizes a response is in order.
The Kenku's black beak opens but no sound emerges. He wracks his brain for an appropriate response but finds none. He glances down at the fire-touched child. She seems, to the Kenku, to be no threat... just looking to avoid getting herself tossed out into the street.
He makes a cooing sound (sighs) and his shoulders slump. Against his better judgement, he extends the hand not pulling the chest and gives the innkeep a feathered thumbs up.
Looking to quickly change the subject, the Kenku hurries across the open floor toward the counter. There is a rhythmic squish-klik-klik, squish-klik-klik as his feet cross the sticky floor. The chest, its wheels apparently well-oiled, makes almost no sound as he pulls it along behind him. The beak opens again and he speaks... but this time the voice is different than before. No longer the grunt of a sailor, it is now a deep and gravelly voice, raspy as one who has spent a lifetime smoking, and yet somehow refined. "I request a cup of coffee or tea, coffee preferably. Strong coffee or tea, if you have more than one variety. If coffee or tea is not available, then water instead, provided that the water is reliably sourced from clean well. Absent coffee, tea or clean water, then a small cup of your mildest alcoholic beverage. Please advise of the price for this prior to serving me, and wait for acknowledgment from me that I agree to said price. Thank you, kindly."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The man is about to answer when the giant barbarian interrupts his train of thought by throwing the tankard to the ground. His face is flustered in irritation.
"A'right! Everybody stop for a moment. What are you all doing here? Did the circus get here early?", he asks, his eyes darting left and right between the four of you.
He turns to the blond giant. "I'll get yer drink...but if you break a container or a tankard, you're gonna need to pay for it."
His gaze then meets the kenku. "You don't seem to realize the kind of establishment ya walked into. Ain't a fancy coffee house here, and if ya want water, there's the docks outside." Still focusing on the bird man. "And if that little runt is yer charge, you gonna pay for the food she just ate? And..."
He suddenly gets caught off by a voice coming from the second floor. "What's with all the yellin' Troy? I have work to do and you're disturbing my concentration."
Though she jumps and cowers slightly at the shatter of glass, half-expecting it to be something thrown at her, the little wizard relaxes when the Big Man just seems to be celebrating how good his ale was.
Her expression hopeful, the confidence slowly drains away the longer the silence lasts and she fists her hands in the fabric of her dress, waiting for the worst. But, when the Kenku gives a thumbs up, she glances up at the him as though he'd hung the very moon itself--a show of any kindness such a rarity throughout this long journey from home. Her amber eyes glisten as she sniffs then gives a thumbs up to the innkeeper as well, a big smile stretching across her freckled cheeks.
She follows closely in tow as he walks to the counter, careful of his rolly-chest and biting back a hundred questions and guesses about what's inside. It's easy enough to do as she's distracted by being called a runt. Bristling, lower lip puffy with a pout, she fishes out a gold piece from her coin purse and ducks beneath the counter before setting it atop. She may not understand the exchange of currency or the value of gold--which one can neither eat nor use to warm themself--but the last thing she wants is for her savior to be made to pay for the already-paid-for food she ate. "For the food and my partner and Big Man," she announces from beneath.
At the second voice, two pairs of eyes peek up over the counter at where it must've come from. It's then that she notices the gnome for the first time, and the pairs of eyes scoot slowly along the bar towards him. "[You're a gnome]," she whispers in Gnomish.
As a degree of chaos broke out over the young girl in the bar, the gnome seemed very content to observe from his stool at the counter with his feet waddling off the edge, occasionally taking a sip from his wine glass of beer. Between the hot-headed (meant only in the most literal sense) tween, the pre-recorded bird man, and the hulking warrior from the North, he starts to realize that his time in Dawn's Point isn't going to be dull.
Just how he likes it.
When the girl makes her statement of him in his native tongue, he lights up. With a smile, he whispers his own Gnomish back. "[Yes, I am! Just like my parents before me, and their parents before them, and who knows where it goes from there. I suppose, as long as we're making observations... you're a young girl. What are you doing in a place like this? We could probably find you a better place to get something to eat.]"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Her big eyes crinkle, the smile hidden beneath the edge of the counter. "[I am! But I don't think my parents before me and their parents before them were young girls too. Though I never met them, so they could've been!]" the wizard muses back, brows creasing together in thought as she considers that possibility.
"[But Grandpa is a gnome too! I'm... um...]" she disappears beneath the counter again and the gnome's stool wobbles slightly before she appears on the other side. There's a rustling in her mess of hair and a red squirrel pops out to look at the gnome too. "[I'm looking for him. Have you... seen him, maybe? He's got a really long beaaarrdd and, um, he tells really good stooorriiies and... he carries a big pipe around all the time! Like the smoking kind.]"
At the mention of more food, her stomach growls and she giggles. The little squirrel emerges fully from its hair-nest and splays out atop her head, his little paws pap-papping at her temples.
As barkeeper mentions a circus, the blonde barbarian looks around in the tap room and scoffs. He had heard about circuses, the soft peoples decedent entertainment, trapping animals in cages, and he resented them for it. He didn't really see anything resembling a circus around though and lets go of the thought, he most often did that quickly to give space for other toughts. "I have gold."The massive blonde warrior rumbles and puts a pouch of coins on the bar counter to make his point. "Are you Brugg?"He then says, leaning down to face the choleric barkeeper.
When the voice calls out from the second floor the massive blonde warrior gets confused again. Who was Troy? And more importantly who was Brugg? "Is that Brugg?" He asks the barkeeper in a demanding tone, looking up towards the second floor towards the voice.
The barkeeper, now known as Troy, looks definitely less agitated now that the second man appeared. He turns to the barbarian.
"Yeah, that's him.", he sheepishly replies, going back behind his counter.
Up on the second floor, leaning on the guard rail, you see who's voice just spoke. A tall bugbear is looking down on the four of you. The floorboard creak under the considerable weight of this individual. He bears the distinctive dark muttonchops and proimminent underbite of his kind. You estimate that he's middle-aged by bugbear standards. Seeing your merry band, he looks at you amused and curious.
"Don't take much to understand what the lot o'ya are. You're adventurers aren't ya? I'd wager yer here because of the job I requested help for, am I right?"
The massive blonde warrior is confused again. He was here for the job, why would he wager against it. Also he looks around the tap room without seeing anyone else resembling an adventurer, just a tiny wee folk albeit armed to the teeth, a little girl who obviously simply was lost, and a peculiar bird-man with an even more peculiar box on wheels. The blonde bearded warrior shrugs and grabs his gear, stepping closer to the bugbear who he thinks is Brugg. "I am Thurodim of the bear tribe, I am here to earn your reward."He says loudly and proudly, hoisting the massive maul over his powerful shoulder, eager to get going it seems.
At the appearance of the Bugbear at the top of the stairs, the Kenku steps back from the counter, self-consciously straightening the collar of his dress shirt. He cocks his head slightly for a better view, adjusting his spectacles. Then he opens his beak and answers the query from upstairs and agrees with the barbarian, but when he does so, it is with the sheepish voice of Troy the bartender.
"Yeah,...".
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Captivated by the accuracy of the Kenku's impression of the innkeep, the young girl beams up at him. That's a fun trick, she thinks, he collects voices!
When the Big Red Man refers to them all as adventurers, she can't help but preen. If she weren't still afraid of being thrown out, she might've even stuck her tongue out at the innkeep over it. Hoping to continue her conversation with her gnome kin, but realizing this seems to be their chance to get picked for whatever job is up for grabs, she gives him a quick and toothy-smiled, "I'll be right back," before she dissolves into a thin, wispy smoke smelling of campfire.
Reappearing between the two large men and utterly undeterred by their size, she repeats, "And I am Ember Granddaughter, of the, um..." her familiar paps at her forehead, "squirrel tribe! And I'm also here to earn your reward!" She tips her head back until she's looking upside down at Big Man with a proud grin, seeking his approval of her "similar" introduction. The red squirrel clings to pawfuls of hair to keep from falling off.
As the girl with a red squirrel nest for hair suddenly appears out of thin hair before him, the massive blonde warrior takes a quick step back muttering something about witchcraft, but as he realizes it is just the girl and hears her claims to be an adventurer he at first stands incredulous, and then lets out a bellowing laugh, putting a massive hand on the bar counter to steady himself. "You are funny little one, but now it's time to go back to mommy." He says, no malice in his voice. He also was pretty certain there was no squirrel tribe in the northern reaches, but if there was the girl was a long way from home.
When Ember disappears with a poof, the gnome she was talking with gets very confused, looking around to see if and where she would reappear. His worries are sated when he hears her voice. Evidently, he forgot to check behind the huge human (apparently Thurodim). When Thurodim makes his remark about Ember, the gnome seems to get a bit upset. "Hey! Just 'cause she's little doesn't mean she can't be an adventurer!"
Getting a grasp on the situation, he jumps off of his stool and addresses Brugg."I am Ozyre Warrack of a little burrow in a little forest that you've never heard of. I'm here for your adventure!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
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Three years. Three years since the second expedition has managed to establish a foothold on the new continent of Tyrannis. Though the land is unwelcoming, the town of Dawn’s Point serves as the singular bastion of imperial civilization. Behind its walls, people of all kind live their lives: merchants, craftsmen, soldiers, etc.
But you are different. You are adventurers. You crossed the Great Blue Veil by boat, because your skills are in high demand. Many like you offer their services and talents to accomplish tasks. People see you as either very brave or very foolish for trying to mess with the wildlife of Tyrannis.
Our story begins with the four of you. You’ve arrived about two days ago on a ship called the White Marlin. It’s a somewhat cloudy day today, with some rays of sunlight here and there. You are walking in the lower district docks. The smell of salty sea water is all around you. Sailors are working, carrying boxes both large and small, or making repairs on the hull of ships. You are heading to your destination: the Wailing Wench. The establishment is an inn, but is rather unremarkable. A two-stories wooden building with stone foundations. Small windows on the side let a little natural light enter. As you open the door, it creaks loudly.
But who are the four intrepid adventurers that walk through the door.
(You may introduce yourself)
The door creaks as a five-and-a-half-foot tall raven enters the Wailing Wench. His jet-black feathers are brushed back immaculately and they gleam faintly in the light; either they are naturally oily or the Kenku must use a palm-aid like product to get that kind of shine. Gender is not obvious based on his visible avian physiology, but he is wearing a finely crafted vest, jacket and pants in a pinstripe of grey and black, with a white collared dress shirt underneath, all of it tailored in a masculine fashion. His feet are unshod, his clawed toes making a 'clik-clik' sound as he walks on the wooden floor, though he does have a black scarf-like accessory tied to each lower leg at the ankle, like a footless sock. A small set of spectacles rests on his beak in front of his eyes and he has a wheeled chest which he is dragging along behind him. A longsword in a plain black scabbard hangs off his belt on one hip.
He pauses as the door creaks... then opens it a bit more (creak)... then closes it a bit (creak)... ... then opens it fast (CREAK)... ... ... ... then opens it and closes it repeatedly (creak-creak-creak-creak-creak). He cocks his head to one side thoughtfully, then turns back to the interior of the inn and lets the door shut on its own (creak). Small, beady black eyes scan the room.
His beak opens. "Mornin'," he announces to the establishment. The voice that emerges is out of place. It is deep and has the inflection of a sailor. Then he pauses, making a low clicking sound with his beak as he waits, perhaps for a reply.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The creaking door to the Wailing Wench has barely closed behind the bespectacled kenku before it is forcibly opened with a loud (CREAK) revealing a hulking brute of man, hunching slightly to get inside. His blonde hair and beard is unkempt but his muscles bulge, as he straightens up inside the tavern, glancing around, almost not noticing the kenku in front of him. His chest is bare but at least he wears leather pants and sturdy boots, all quite worn by the looks of it. The massive man carries a crude backpack and a huge maul is hoisted over his powerful shoulder. The warrior seems like a walking arsenal with two axes tucked into his belt and a number of throwing spears protruding behind his back. To finish up the picture of this obvious barbarian of the cold northern reaches is a horn by his belt inscribed with the crude runes of the north.
The blonde bearded warrior does not stand to greet anyone inside, instead he walks with powerful steps over to the bar, turning to the nearest person, whether they would be a barkeeper or not. "Your largest beer!" He gruffly demands, dropping his gear to the floor beside him.
The door creaks open once again, just as loudly as it did when the barbarian entered, and any curious individuals within the Wailing Wench look over at the door to find... absolutely nothing. And then they each look a bit below eye-level and collectively realize their mistake. Into the establishment walks a gnome, just over 3 feet tall, with light skin and messy brown hair. On each of his hips there is an axe, and strapped to his back is a hammer far too big for him to ever hold, much less use. The head of it almost reaches his hips, while the handle goes a bit above his hair. As he walks to the bar, his chainmail lightly clinks, though it is drowned out by the ambient chatter.
He jumps up onto a stool next to the barbarian, and jovially addresses a bartender with a smile. "Your smallest beer!"
If anybody takes a closer look, they'll find that the gnome is actually quite thin and wiry beneath his armor. On some parts of his body that are exposed, such as his forearms and the base of his neck, strange tattoos can be seen, seemingly displaying some sort of text. Inscriptions similar to the tattoos are visible on the head of one of his axes, as well as along the upper half of his maul.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
A young girl--barefoot, bright-eyed, and no more than 12 summers and 4'6 inches tall--squeezes past another patron in the doorway, who scrunches their nose at the little wizard's very ripe scent. With her fiery red hair (a veritable rat's nest for all its knots and tangles and debris), an oversized scarf not at all befitting the weather, and a spellbook carried like a school child's backpack, it's fair to say she stands out amongst the customers of the Wailing Wench and, indeed, the whole town of Dawn's Point.

Humming off-key to herself, Ember Granddaughter waltzes in ahead of the other patron and immediately sniffs at the air. Food. A recently vacated table finds its plates all but cleared as the little wizard grabs handfuls of scraps, which she munches on as she takes in her surroundings. A small red squirrel pops its head out from within her mop of hair, likewise assessing this new environment, before hiding away again. "Don't be scared, Aggie. This is the place! Now we just have to find, uuumm... Brugg!" she says to the familiar, wiping a greasy hand across her mouth and then on her tattered shift dress.
As you all enter the tavern, you realize that it's not a particularly well-refined establishment. Though it's nearly empty at this time of day, you can assume that the sailors outside are probably regulars of this place. Walking in, you can feel the ground is somewhat sticky, and with the surrounding smell, it's clear that many an ale as been spilled on the ground. The inside is fairly open with the tables and chairs set to the sides. On the other side of the room, behind the counter, you see a human man. He's wearing a dirty shirt with a stained apron over it. He has a receding hairline of dark red hair and a healthy bear gut. He looks bewildered by the sight of the four of you.
The man raises an eyebrow and gives a offhand waive at the kenku.
When the walking tower of muscules walks in, his heads jerks backward a little. He then quickly looks for the biggest tankard he can find and fills it with ale. "He...Here you go, sir."
He then looks down to the gnome and repeats the same process but this time with a wine cup. "And to you." He then raises an eyebrow and addresses the three of you. "Haven't seen you lot around before? When did ya arrive into town?"
Before anyone has time to answer, he hears the rattling of plates from behind the barbarian and tries to look over its shoulder, just in time to see a little girl chowing down on the remains of a greassy plate of sausages and baby potatoes. He runs out from behind the counter and yells.
"Hey! No kids allowed in here! You gonna pay for that, little miss? Come on, git outta here!"
“Oh no no no,” the little pyro says in her lilting accent, cheeks full of food like a hamster as she wags a finger at the balding man. “I’m not a kid! Or a little miss! I’m—“ she strikes a pose with both hands on her hips, “—an adventurer! And I’m here with my, um…” she glances about and her eyes light on the kenku by the door. Sidling up beside him, bare feet stickied by the ale-covered floor, she announces confidently, “with my adventuring partner!”
((Deception: 11+0=11))
The massive bearded warrior feels right at home in the not-so-refined tavern with it's sticky floor. Taverns were the only good thing civilization had brought. Whilst waiting for his beer, he scans the tap room to see if this Brugg was present but he only sees a weird bird-man, a little runt of a gnome and a girl, having a hard time deciding which of them he felt was most out of place at the Wailing Wench. He lets on a small smile as he notices the squirrel peek out of her unruly red hair and wondered if the girl was even aware it had made a nest there, maybe it even had a big stash of acorns in there somewhere he thought with a deep chuckle, his own massive hand going to a pouch by his belt, making sure Mr. Bleeches was alright in there.
As the barkeeper gets him his biggest tankard of ale, the massive blonde warrior huffs and gulps it all down. "Another one!" He says loudly in a demanding tone, throwing the now empty tankard to the floor as was tradition with his tribe. As the barkeeper confronts the child his eyes narrows as she claims the bird-man is her partner, but then he shakes his head and lets the thought go. Thinking too much always made his head ache, so what if they were partners, it was no business of his. "Just arrived, looking for Brugg." Thurodim says to the barkeeper, expecting him to let the girl be and instead give the massive blonde warrior the attention he deserved. He never used more words than necessary, too many words only seemed to confuse him and that made him angry, and being angry never ended well with the massive blonde warrior.
The Kenku was looking distatefully and the bottoms of his feet after having stepped on a sticky patch, and was mere moments away from making his own inquiry as to the whereabouts of Brugg, when the young girls sidles up to him and declares them friends and partners.
He is taken aback, first eyeing the girl's hands to make sure neither was reaching for his coin purse or some other street urchin tomfoolery. Then, seeing the eyes of the girl, the innkeep, and perhaps the others all looking to him, he realizes a response is in order.
The Kenku's black beak opens but no sound emerges. He wracks his brain for an appropriate response but finds none. He glances down at the fire-touched child. She seems, to the Kenku, to be no threat... just looking to avoid getting herself tossed out into the street.
He makes a cooing sound (sighs) and his shoulders slump. Against his better judgement, he extends the hand not pulling the chest and gives the innkeep a feathered thumbs up.
Looking to quickly change the subject, the Kenku hurries across the open floor toward the counter. There is a rhythmic squish-klik-klik, squish-klik-klik as his feet cross the sticky floor. The chest, its wheels apparently well-oiled, makes almost no sound as he pulls it along behind him. The beak opens again and he speaks... but this time the voice is different than before. No longer the grunt of a sailor, it is now a deep and gravelly voice, raspy as one who has spent a lifetime smoking, and yet somehow refined. "I request a cup of coffee or tea, coffee preferably. Strong coffee or tea, if you have more than one variety. If coffee or tea is not available, then water instead, provided that the water is reliably sourced from clean well. Absent coffee, tea or clean water, then a small cup of your mildest alcoholic beverage. Please advise of the price for this prior to serving me, and wait for acknowledgment from me that I agree to said price. Thank you, kindly."
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The man is about to answer when the giant barbarian interrupts his train of thought by throwing the tankard to the ground. His face is flustered in irritation.
"A'right! Everybody stop for a moment. What are you all doing here? Did the circus get here early?", he asks, his eyes darting left and right between the four of you.
He turns to the blond giant. "I'll get yer drink...but if you break a container or a tankard, you're gonna need to pay for it."
His gaze then meets the kenku. "You don't seem to realize the kind of establishment ya walked into. Ain't a fancy coffee house here, and if ya want water, there's the docks outside." Still focusing on the bird man. "And if that little runt is yer charge, you gonna pay for the food she just ate? And..."
He suddenly gets caught off by a voice coming from the second floor. "What's with all the yellin' Troy? I have work to do and you're disturbing my concentration."
Though she jumps and cowers slightly at the shatter of glass, half-expecting it to be something thrown at her, the little wizard relaxes when the Big Man just seems to be celebrating how good his ale was.
Her expression hopeful, the confidence slowly drains away the longer the silence lasts and she fists her hands in the fabric of her dress, waiting for the worst. But, when the Kenku gives a thumbs up, she glances up at the him as though he'd hung the very moon itself--a show of any kindness such a rarity throughout this long journey from home. Her amber eyes glisten as she sniffs then gives a thumbs up to the innkeeper as well, a big smile stretching across her freckled cheeks.
She follows closely in tow as he walks to the counter, careful of his rolly-chest and biting back a hundred questions and guesses about what's inside. It's easy enough to do as she's distracted by being called a runt. Bristling, lower lip puffy with a pout, she fishes out a gold piece from her coin purse and ducks beneath the counter before setting it atop. She may not understand the exchange of currency or the value of gold--which one can neither eat nor use to warm themself--but the last thing she wants is for her savior to be made to pay for the already-paid-for food she ate. "For the food and my partner and Big Man," she announces from beneath.
At the second voice, two pairs of eyes peek up over the counter at where it must've come from. It's then that she notices the gnome for the first time, and the pairs of eyes scoot slowly along the bar towards him. "[You're a gnome]," she whispers in Gnomish.
As a degree of chaos broke out over the young girl in the bar, the gnome seemed very content to observe from his stool at the counter with his feet waddling off the edge, occasionally taking a sip from his wine glass of beer. Between the hot-headed (meant only in the most literal sense) tween, the pre-recorded bird man, and the hulking warrior from the North, he starts to realize that his time in Dawn's Point isn't going to be dull.
Just how he likes it.
When the girl makes her statement of him in his native tongue, he lights up. With a smile, he whispers his own Gnomish back. "[Yes, I am! Just like my parents before me, and their parents before them, and who knows where it goes from there. I suppose, as long as we're making observations... you're a young girl. What are you doing in a place like this? We could probably find you a better place to get something to eat.]"
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Her big eyes crinkle, the smile hidden beneath the edge of the counter. "[I am! But I don't think my parents before me and their parents before them were young girls too. Though I never met them, so they could've been!]" the wizard muses back, brows creasing together in thought as she considers that possibility.
"[But Grandpa is a gnome too! I'm... um...]" she disappears beneath the counter again and the gnome's stool wobbles slightly before she appears on the other side. There's a rustling in her mess of hair and a red squirrel pops out to look at the gnome too. "[I'm looking for him. Have you... seen him, maybe? He's got a really long beaaarrdd and, um, he tells really good stooorriiies and... he carries a big pipe around all the time! Like the smoking kind.]"
At the mention of more food, her stomach growls and she giggles. The little squirrel emerges fully from its hair-nest and splays out atop her head, his little paws pap-papping at her temples.
As barkeeper mentions a circus, the blonde barbarian looks around in the tap room and scoffs. He had heard about circuses, the soft peoples decedent entertainment, trapping animals in cages, and he resented them for it. He didn't really see anything resembling a circus around though and lets go of the thought, he most often did that quickly to give space for other toughts. "I have gold." The massive blonde warrior rumbles and puts a pouch of coins on the bar counter to make his point. "Are you Brugg?" He then says, leaning down to face the choleric barkeeper.
When the voice calls out from the second floor the massive blonde warrior gets confused again. Who was Troy? And more importantly who was Brugg? "Is that Brugg?" He asks the barkeeper in a demanding tone, looking up towards the second floor towards the voice.
The barkeeper, now known as Troy, looks definitely less agitated now that the second man appeared. He turns to the barbarian.
"Yeah, that's him.", he sheepishly replies, going back behind his counter.
Up on the second floor, leaning on the guard rail, you see who's voice just spoke. A tall bugbear is looking down on the four of you. The floorboard creak under the considerable weight of this individual. He bears the distinctive dark muttonchops and proimminent underbite of his kind. You estimate that he's middle-aged by bugbear standards. Seeing your merry band, he looks at you amused and curious.
"Don't take much to understand what the lot o'ya are. You're adventurers aren't ya? I'd wager yer here because of the job I requested help for, am I right?"
The massive blonde warrior is confused again. He was here for the job, why would he wager against it. Also he looks around the tap room without seeing anyone else resembling an adventurer, just a tiny wee folk albeit armed to the teeth, a little girl who obviously simply was lost, and a peculiar bird-man with an even more peculiar box on wheels. The blonde bearded warrior shrugs and grabs his gear, stepping closer to the bugbear who he thinks is Brugg. "I am Thurodim of the bear tribe, I am here to earn your reward." He says loudly and proudly, hoisting the massive maul over his powerful shoulder, eager to get going it seems.
At the appearance of the Bugbear at the top of the stairs, the Kenku steps back from the counter, self-consciously straightening the collar of his dress shirt. He cocks his head slightly for a better view, adjusting his spectacles. Then he opens his beak and answers the query from upstairs and agrees with the barbarian, but when he does so, it is with the sheepish voice of Troy the bartender.
"Yeah,...".
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Captivated by the accuracy of the Kenku's impression of the innkeep, the young girl beams up at him. That's a fun trick, she thinks, he collects voices!
When the Big Red Man refers to them all as adventurers, she can't help but preen. If she weren't still afraid of being thrown out, she might've even stuck her tongue out at the innkeep over it. Hoping to continue her conversation with her gnome kin, but realizing this seems to be their chance to get picked for whatever job is up for grabs, she gives him a quick and toothy-smiled, "I'll be right back," before she dissolves into a thin, wispy smoke smelling of campfire.
Reappearing between the two large men and utterly undeterred by their size, she repeats, "And I am Ember Granddaughter, of the, um..." her familiar paps at her forehead, "squirrel tribe! And I'm also here to earn your reward!" She tips her head back until she's looking upside down at Big Man with a proud grin, seeking his approval of her "similar" introduction. The red squirrel clings to pawfuls of hair to keep from falling off.
As the girl with a red squirrel nest for hair suddenly appears out of thin hair before him, the massive blonde warrior takes a quick step back muttering something about witchcraft, but as he realizes it is just the girl and hears her claims to be an adventurer he at first stands incredulous, and then lets out a bellowing laugh, putting a massive hand on the bar counter to steady himself. "You are funny little one, but now it's time to go back to mommy." He says, no malice in his voice. He also was pretty certain there was no squirrel tribe in the northern reaches, but if there was the girl was a long way from home.
When Ember disappears with a poof, the gnome she was talking with gets very confused, looking around to see if and where she would reappear. His worries are sated when he hears her voice. Evidently, he forgot to check behind the huge human (apparently Thurodim). When Thurodim makes his remark about Ember, the gnome seems to get a bit upset. "Hey! Just 'cause she's little doesn't mean she can't be an adventurer!"
Getting a grasp on the situation, he jumps off of his stool and addresses Brugg. "I am Ozyre Warrack of a little burrow in a little forest that you've never heard of. I'm here for your adventure!"
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)