Evokers shoot blasts of multicolored fire and lightning into the sky from on top of their float. A massive golden dragon prowls through the streets, followed by the troupe of illusionists maintaining the apparition. Sounds of laughter and jovial music flood through the crowds of Solacus. The Arcanum Festival is easily the grandest celebration that the city holds, thanks in big part to the funding of the Conclave. They want to encourage new generations to pursue the magical arts, and seeing the children of the city gaze in awe at arcane feats, it certainly seems to be working. Whether you live in the city or have traveled far to come here and whether you burst with excitement at the festivities or couldn’t possibly care less, you now find yourself in the heart of the celebration. This street is lined with vendors of food and cheap magical trinkets, and the Red Gallows Tavern, a popular local establishment, seems to have set up tables outside of its building for people to eat and drink while enjoying the merriment. A stage has been set up in a vacant lot next to the tavern, and a bard currently plays an upbeat tune on his lute.
Ospos walked the streets during the festival, sampling the available foods, comparing the tastes to the haughtiest places he'd managed to eat in his short life. He was standing near the Red Gallows Tavern, listening the diddle the Bard was playing and watching the patrons throw their tips into the collection plate. Figuring this was as good a place as any to market his performances, Ospos walked the nearby streets looking for a gullible but influential fellow he could turn to his service. After finding one that had the correct balance of "well to do" but still look "susceptible", Ospos introduced himself to the fellow. Once introductions were made and the fellow was paying attention, Ospos cast Suggestion and gave the following instruction, "Follow me within earshot, but not too close. When you hear me say 'come watch me play this evening at the corner of Accorn Avenue and Ups Street', give it thirty seconds or so and then come tell as many people you can how you saw my performance and it was amazing. The more coin I was tipped, the crazier the performance became!"
Ospos then made his way back to the Red Gallows Tavern, stood amongst the crowd listening and tipping the Bard, and spoke loud enough, but not so loud the bard could overhear, "Not a bad performance, but he's bored. That's a first year diddle at best. The Bard College controls who can perform as bards. The Inn is paying that Bard, good performance or not. There's no more competition amongst performers, it's sad. If you want to see a real performer, not these lazy academics, come watch me play this evening at the corner of Accorn Avenue and Ups Street." With that, Ospos walked away and continued to sample the festival foods.
Ospos: The man seems a bit dazed at first as your magic words twist at his will. As the spell takes hold, he nods and begins to follow after you as you specified. As you begin critiquing the other bard's work, some of the listeners seem vaguely interested, while some seem surprised at your audacity. But as you walk away, you begin to hear the charmed man spinning tales of your marvelous performance, and you are assured that you should have a decent audience waiting for you in a few hours.
Bram walks among the crowds alternately, playing his Flute, using a little of his magic (Prestidigitation, for sparks and the like) and being wowed himself by all of the fantastic magical displays.
Coming to the Red Gallows Tavern, Bram decided to stop in for a drink. Coming to the bar,
"Could I get an ale, my fine friend?"
Bram pays for the ale and then taking it, heads back outside and takes a seat to continue enjoying the festival.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dril had always loved the Arcana Festival. The wonders of magic were on full display, inspiring awe and optimism toward the future. What problem could magic not solve? But this year the festival is a morbid reminder of his recent adventures. Awakened by the festivity, Dril meanders into the Red Gallows Tavern.
"Barkeep, a house ale and two poached eggs." he asks with a smile. "A lot more tourists this year. Any idea what is going on?" Investigation:18
Sat at the bar front of the Red Gallows Tavern his face resting on his arm as he clutched a large mug half-full with ale, Nodrus was mumbling in a drunken sleep. Nodrus was a rather muscular dwarf whose appearence was rather off-putting. Wearing tattered trousers with what appeared to be bear fur woven and attached around them, a very tattered plain shirt, barely a shirt at this point and the head and shoulder of a bear over his head and neck, like a hood. His appearence definitely gave the vibe of somebody who looked like they'd been dragged through a bush. Nodrus sat their grumbling in a drunken state, half conscious half not, as the bartender kept their distance, probably because the smell of dirt and forest from this messy dwarven individual.
The interior of the Red Gallows matches the macabre name. Dark wood and black leather furnishings are decorated with wicked looking ornamental weapons, skulls and pelts from hideous fiends and beasts, and a large mural depicting a massive, gory battle between two opposing fiendish armies. In stark contrast to the decor however, the atmosphere of the tavern is lively and warm. For anyone who'd been to the tavern before, they would tell you this was always the case, but clearly the energy is even higher today because of the festival. Seemingly running the bar is a young half-elf woman, with jet black hair in a stylish bob and tattoos curling up her neck.
Bram: The woman doesn't stop moving as you place your order, clearly busy with the high patronage. "Course ya can, coming right up!" A few moments later, she returns with a mug of reddish ale. "That'll be 6 copper." she says, and collects the coins you place on the bar as she walks past again.
Dril: "Sure thing! That'll be 2 silver." She returns after a few moments with your ale. As you talk to her she responds with a shrug. "Not sure. Could be just that the city has grown so much in the last few years. And maybe the new trade routes too, between here and New Primetra. Better to sail through Mirestone than trek across the desert!" after about ten minutes, another barmaid comes along with your eggs, setting them down in front of you before rushing off.
"Cheers!" Dril tips the barmaid and surveys the room from the vantage of the high bar stool. What Dril loved about the Arcana Festival was how it united everyone and the communal sense of happiness. Looking around, Dril could overhear Bards competing for attention, spellcasters of impressive capability, Aristocrats letting loose, and... er, some Dwarf with more burrs in his beard than clothes on his back... might want to watch that one...
Drill finishes his eggs, hops off the bar stool and walks outside to the sitting area, awaiting the upcoming performance without any concern toward the content. Dril is a healthy, young gnome, hardly old enough to be taken seriously by fellow gnomes. Usually smiling, Dril typically wears coveralls, with the sleeves or pant legs occasionally rolled up, and sturdy boots, fit for hiking the forests. He wears a belt and a sash, with various pockets filled with miscellaneous stones and trinkets, and odd patches of mismatched material; leather or wool sewn into cotton.
Normally Dril would be participating in the magical merriment. Today however, was not his day.
Clermar walks down the festival street, keeping an eye on everyone walking by while keeping out of the way of the arcane spectacles. He likes festivals, they are always great fun but they can get messy once people start drinking. It's too early in the day for anyone to be a problem though. He sees a drunk halfling stagger past him. "I should keep an eye on that one though." He mumbles to himself. He seems to shake himself out of a daze as he continues on. He shouldn't worry about that anymore, it's not his job anymore. He comes to the Red Gallows Tavern and heads inside for something to eat. He sees the earthy looking dwarf asleep at the bar and heads over to him.
Clermar attempt to shake Nodrus awake. If Nodrus wakes up he sees a half-elf with tanned skin and brown eyes staring at him. His brown hair is graying at the edges but he appears too young for that, although it's hard to tell with elf linage, maybe it's from stress or a different family trait. He seems very fit and armed heavily with a sword, pike and crossbow. The dwarf hears, "You alright here buddy? Thought dwarves didn't stop drinking for nothing."
Those who are intently keeping an eye on the crowd may be able to see a back hooded figure follow within the stream. Submersing within the all excited festival attendants, Nean adjusts his pace to those around him, slowly making his way to the Red Gallows. The Arcanum Festival used to be an oasis for him and his friends. There simply was no other time in Solacus where you could find this many people with such little interest in guarding their coin purses. It almost felt like his fingers were reaching out intuitionally, he had to pull himself together. Those days were over. Nean knew it was unlikely for him to be caught in the act, but a failure would shift the attention of those people upon him that he prefered to avoid. When he eventually reached the Taverns entrance, Nean pondered just long to pull down the black mask-like cloth that had covered his face from chin up to the eyes before he stepped across the threshold.
The inn welcomed him with the usual, heartwarming atmosphere of loud chitchatter and the jingling of cutlery. Nean still had his hood on, pulled down so deep into his face that his hair wasn't visible to anyone else. Crystal clear, blue eyes phased threw the townsfolk that had gathered in the Red Gallows, but didnt seem to find anyone familiar, since they soon wandered over to the bar. His clothes were jet-black, from his boots up to the leather with the attached hood, even his hands were wrapped in pieces of black cloth. Although wearing armor, he doesn't seem to be armed. The whole black theme might appear a bit overdone though. Nean slowly strolled over to the bar, the mask still loosely hanging around his neck."Happy Arcanum. I'd love to disburden you of a little whine, if that's alright." After ordering, he turns back to the taproom just in time to see a half-elf attempt and wake up an almost primeval looking dwarf, a smirk crossing his face while waiting for the drink.
Approaching the Red Gallows Tavern from along the side of the street so as not to obstruct the parade of arcane performers is an elf with copper hair and bronze skin dressed plainly except for a whip at his side. Liafial makes his way inside and up to the bar, "How much do you charge for a wine?" he asks by way of ordering one as he takes some gold out of his pouch to count or change depending on the price of the drink.
After getting his beverage Liafial moves back outside to sit beside the establishment and watch the arcane display before him on the street. "This is indeed entertaining," Liafial speaks aloud to no one in particular but within earshot of many others that are outside the Red Gallows, "The celebration of magic seems to appeal to so many."
Nodrus kind of groans and incomprehensibly tries to say, "Whaddya want? leave me be" but it came out half and half with mumbles. He shrugged his right should before raising his head up a bit, taking a drink from his half mug of Ale, before resting his head against his arm again, sighing. "Bloody festivities everywhere, whats all that about anyway." A slightly muffled voice spoke from the tired looking dwarf.
Liafial, Nean: "Wine and.. wine. That'll be 5 copper for each of you." she addresses both of you at the same time, efficient as ever. As she returns with your drinks, her gaze follows Nean's to the haggard looking dwarf and the man trying to pull him from his stupor.
Clermar: The woman calls to you from across the bar. "Good luck with that one. Been there awhile. Looks like he's been through hell, and he sure drank like it."
Outside the tavern, it appears that a small group of people are preparing for another show on the stage next door. They appear a little more rag-tag than some of the other performers, who'd clearly spent lots of time and gold preparing their costumes and props. As the sun dips low in the sky and dusk falls on the festival, magical floating lights begin to pop up, casting the already vibrant affair in a rainbow of different colors. Several of these lights now illuminate a sign that this group is hoisting above the stage. It reads "Silas' Superior Summoning Show"
(Anyone who is outside can give me a perception check if you'd like)
"Thank you very much, darling." Nean places the copper on the bar table, grabs the glass and takes a little sip. He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to the half-elf and the dwarf. "Mind if i join you? You lot seem to be fun." , he adresses them, a tad of oppressed enlightenment in his voice. He pauses for a second as if to think twice, before he raises his glass towards the dwarf and gives the pair a wide, winning smile. "Just call me Nean."
Bram: As you watch thegroup, you notice one man in particular seems to be in charge. He's human, with a well groomed salt and pepper beard, and he wears deep blue robes. Another mage runs over to him to ask a question. The man nods and she runs up on stage. "We'll be starting in just a few moments everyone, thank you for your patience!"
Bram moves his hands in a quick arcane gesture and quietly utters an arcane phrase, (Silent Image)
"Summoning magic can be very exhilarating to witness, you never know for sure if the creatures will obey"
Between Brams hands a small glowing pentagram appears and then a miniature devil like creature materializes above it. The devil like creature silently animates violent and angry gestures before the illusion dissolves away.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ospos was done sampling the foods, belly stuffed full... for at least the next half hour. He was making his way back to the street corner he'd been advertising all day, tapping a complex rhythm on his drum to tantalize as he called out to onlookers to follow him for a performance.
As he passed by the Red Gallows Tavern again, he could see some new act setting up on the stage. He frowned and looked at them more carefully... these people didn't appear to be trying to impress with their attire, surely a no-no in the Bard College.
Ospos paused in his walk, although he kept up the beat on his drum.
Ospos: As well as noticing the group preparing, you also spot a group of Conclave members across the street, eyeing the conjurers. They're easy to pick out, wearing black velvet robes trimmed with lush purple. They whisper to each other, and watch suspiciously from afar. Ospos please give me a history check.
Evokers shoot blasts of multicolored fire and lightning into the sky from on top of their float. A massive golden dragon prowls through the streets, followed by the troupe of illusionists maintaining the apparition. Sounds of laughter and jovial music flood through the crowds of Solacus. The Arcanum Festival is easily the grandest celebration that the city holds, thanks in big part to the funding of the Conclave. They want to encourage new generations to pursue the magical arts, and seeing the children of the city gaze in awe at arcane feats, it certainly seems to be working. Whether you live in the city or have traveled far to come here and whether you burst with excitement at the festivities or couldn’t possibly care less, you now find yourself in the heart of the celebration. This street is lined with vendors of food and cheap magical trinkets, and the Red Gallows Tavern, a popular local establishment, seems to have set up tables outside of its building for people to eat and drink while enjoying the merriment. A stage has been set up in a vacant lot next to the tavern, and a bard currently plays an upbeat tune on his lute.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Ospos walked the streets during the festival, sampling the available foods, comparing the tastes to the haughtiest places he'd managed to eat in his short life. He was standing near the Red Gallows Tavern, listening the diddle the Bard was playing and watching the patrons throw their tips into the collection plate. Figuring this was as good a place as any to market his performances, Ospos walked the nearby streets looking for a gullible but influential fellow he could turn to his service. After finding one that had the correct balance of "well to do" but still look "susceptible", Ospos introduced himself to the fellow. Once introductions were made and the fellow was paying attention, Ospos cast Suggestion and gave the following instruction, "Follow me within earshot, but not too close. When you hear me say 'come watch me play this evening at the corner of Accorn Avenue and Ups Street', give it thirty seconds or so and then come tell as many people you can how you saw my performance and it was amazing. The more coin I was tipped, the crazier the performance became!"
Ospos then made his way back to the Red Gallows Tavern, stood amongst the crowd listening and tipping the Bard, and spoke loud enough, but not so loud the bard could overhear, "Not a bad performance, but he's bored. That's a first year diddle at best. The Bard College controls who can perform as bards. The Inn is paying that Bard, good performance or not. There's no more competition amongst performers, it's sad. If you want to see a real performer, not these lazy academics, come watch me play this evening at the corner of Accorn Avenue and Ups Street." With that, Ospos walked away and continued to sample the festival foods.
Wis Save against Suggestion : 12
Ospos: The man seems a bit dazed at first as your magic words twist at his will. As the spell takes hold, he nods and begins to follow after you as you specified. As you begin critiquing the other bard's work, some of the listeners seem vaguely interested, while some seem surprised at your audacity. But as you walk away, you begin to hear the charmed man spinning tales of your marvelous performance, and you are assured that you should have a decent audience waiting for you in a few hours.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Bram walks among the crowds alternately, playing his Flute, using a little of his magic (Prestidigitation, for sparks and the like) and being wowed himself by all of the fantastic magical displays.
Coming to the Red Gallows Tavern, Bram decided to stop in for a drink. Coming to the bar,
"Could I get an ale, my fine friend?"
Bram pays for the ale and then taking it, heads back outside and takes a seat to continue enjoying the festival.
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
Dril had always loved the Arcana Festival. The wonders of magic were on full display, inspiring awe and optimism toward the future. What problem could magic not solve? But this year the festival is a morbid reminder of his recent adventures. Awakened by the festivity, Dril meanders into the Red Gallows Tavern.
"Barkeep, a house ale and two poached eggs." he asks with a smile. "A lot more tourists this year. Any idea what is going on?" Investigation:18
Dril-lvl 4 Wizard-Forest Gnome-The Bounders https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/3314145
Croak- lvl 3 Fighter- Half-Orc- The Wizard's Challenge https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/3773609
Barbara: lvl 3 Ancestral Barbarian- Red Skies Mourning https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/4593374
Sat at the bar front of the Red Gallows Tavern his face resting on his arm as he clutched a large mug half-full with ale, Nodrus was mumbling in a drunken sleep. Nodrus was a rather muscular dwarf whose appearence was rather off-putting. Wearing tattered trousers with what appeared to be bear fur woven and attached around them, a very tattered plain shirt, barely a shirt at this point and the head and shoulder of a bear over his head and neck, like a hood. His appearence definitely gave the vibe of somebody who looked like they'd been dragged through a bush. Nodrus sat their grumbling in a drunken state, half conscious half not, as the bartender kept their distance, probably because the smell of dirt and forest from this messy dwarven individual.
The interior of the Red Gallows matches the macabre name. Dark wood and black leather furnishings are decorated with wicked looking ornamental weapons, skulls and pelts from hideous fiends and beasts, and a large mural depicting a massive, gory battle between two opposing fiendish armies. In stark contrast to the decor however, the atmosphere of the tavern is lively and warm. For anyone who'd been to the tavern before, they would tell you this was always the case, but clearly the energy is even higher today because of the festival. Seemingly running the bar is a young half-elf woman, with jet black hair in a stylish bob and tattoos curling up her neck.
Bram: The woman doesn't stop moving as you place your order, clearly busy with the high patronage. "Course ya can, coming right up!" A few moments later, she returns with a mug of reddish ale. "That'll be 6 copper." she says, and collects the coins you place on the bar as she walks past again.
Dril: "Sure thing! That'll be 2 silver." She returns after a few moments with your ale. As you talk to her she responds with a shrug. "Not sure. Could be just that the city has grown so much in the last few years. And maybe the new trade routes too, between here and New Primetra. Better to sail through Mirestone than trek across the desert!" after about ten minutes, another barmaid comes along with your eggs, setting them down in front of you before rushing off.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
"Cheers!" Dril tips the barmaid and surveys the room from the vantage of the high bar stool. What Dril loved about the Arcana Festival was how it united everyone and the communal sense of happiness. Looking around, Dril could overhear Bards competing for attention, spellcasters of impressive capability, Aristocrats letting loose, and... er, some Dwarf with more burrs in his beard than clothes on his back... might want to watch that one...
Drill finishes his eggs, hops off the bar stool and walks outside to the sitting area, awaiting the upcoming performance without any concern toward the content. Dril is a healthy, young gnome, hardly old enough to be taken seriously by fellow gnomes. Usually smiling, Dril typically wears coveralls, with the sleeves or pant legs occasionally rolled up, and sturdy boots, fit for hiking the forests. He wears a belt and a sash, with various pockets filled with miscellaneous stones and trinkets, and odd patches of mismatched material; leather or wool sewn into cotton.
Normally Dril would be participating in the magical merriment. Today however, was not his day.
Dril-lvl 4 Wizard-Forest Gnome-The Bounders https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/3314145
Croak- lvl 3 Fighter- Half-Orc- The Wizard's Challenge https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/3773609
Barbara: lvl 3 Ancestral Barbarian- Red Skies Mourning https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/HumbleHubris86/characters/4593374
Bram notices the gnome exiting the tavern,
"Hello there, isn't this wonderful?"
Bram indicates the ongoing festivities as they wind up and down the streets.
"A whole day to calibrate magic, it never gets old for me. Seeing displays like this every day would be fantastic."
Bram comes over and extends his hand to Dril
"My names Bram by the way."
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
Clermar walks down the festival street, keeping an eye on everyone walking by while keeping out of the way of the arcane spectacles. He likes festivals, they are always great fun but they can get messy once people start drinking. It's too early in the day for anyone to be a problem though. He sees a drunk halfling stagger past him. "I should keep an eye on that one though." He mumbles to himself. He seems to shake himself out of a daze as he continues on. He shouldn't worry about that anymore, it's not his job anymore. He comes to the Red Gallows Tavern and heads inside for something to eat. He sees the earthy looking dwarf asleep at the bar and heads over to him.
Clermar attempt to shake Nodrus awake. If Nodrus wakes up he sees a half-elf with tanned skin and brown eyes staring at him. His brown hair is graying at the edges but he appears too young for that, although it's hard to tell with elf linage, maybe it's from stress or a different family trait. He seems very fit and armed heavily with a sword, pike and crossbow. The dwarf hears, "You alright here buddy? Thought dwarves didn't stop drinking for nothing."
Those who are intently keeping an eye on the crowd may be able to see a back hooded figure follow within the stream. Submersing within the all excited festival attendants, Nean adjusts his pace to those around him, slowly making his way to the Red Gallows. The Arcanum Festival used to be an oasis for him and his friends. There simply was no other time in Solacus where you could find this many people with such little interest in guarding their coin purses. It almost felt like his fingers were reaching out intuitionally, he had to pull himself together. Those days were over. Nean knew it was unlikely for him to be caught in the act, but a failure would shift the attention of those people upon him that he prefered to avoid. When he eventually reached the Taverns entrance, Nean pondered just long to pull down the black mask-like cloth that had covered his face from chin up to the eyes before he stepped across the threshold.
The inn welcomed him with the usual, heartwarming atmosphere of loud chitchatter and the jingling of cutlery. Nean still had his hood on, pulled down so deep into his face that his hair wasn't visible to anyone else. Crystal clear, blue eyes phased threw the townsfolk that had gathered in the Red Gallows, but didnt seem to find anyone familiar, since they soon wandered over to the bar. His clothes were jet-black, from his boots up to the leather with the attached hood, even his hands were wrapped in pieces of black cloth. Although wearing armor, he doesn't seem to be armed. The whole black theme might appear a bit overdone though. Nean slowly strolled over to the bar, the mask still loosely hanging around his neck. "Happy Arcanum. I'd love to disburden you of a little whine, if that's alright." After ordering, he turns back to the taproom just in time to see a half-elf attempt and wake up an almost primeval looking dwarf, a smirk crossing his face while waiting for the drink.
Approaching the Red Gallows Tavern from along the side of the street so as not to obstruct the parade of arcane performers is an elf with copper hair and bronze skin dressed plainly except for a whip at his side. Liafial makes his way inside and up to the bar, "How much do you charge for a wine?" he asks by way of ordering one as he takes some gold out of his pouch to count or change depending on the price of the drink.
After getting his beverage Liafial moves back outside to sit beside the establishment and watch the arcane display before him on the street. "This is indeed entertaining," Liafial speaks aloud to no one in particular but within earshot of many others that are outside the Red Gallows, "The celebration of magic seems to appeal to so many."
Nodrus kind of groans and incomprehensibly tries to say, "Whaddya want? leave me be" but it came out half and half with mumbles. He shrugged his right should before raising his head up a bit, taking a drink from his half mug of Ale, before resting his head against his arm again, sighing. "Bloody festivities everywhere, whats all that about anyway." A slightly muffled voice spoke from the tired looking dwarf.
Liafial, Nean: "Wine and.. wine. That'll be 5 copper for each of you." she addresses both of you at the same time, efficient as ever. As she returns with your drinks, her gaze follows Nean's to the haggard looking dwarf and the man trying to pull him from his stupor.
Clermar: The woman calls to you from across the bar. "Good luck with that one. Been there awhile. Looks like he's been through hell, and he sure drank like it."
Outside the tavern, it appears that a small group of people are preparing for another show on the stage next door. They appear a little more rag-tag than some of the other performers, who'd clearly spent lots of time and gold preparing their costumes and props. As the sun dips low in the sky and dusk falls on the festival, magical floating lights begin to pop up, casting the already vibrant affair in a rainbow of different colors. Several of these lights now illuminate a sign that this group is hoisting above the stage. It reads "Silas' Superior Summoning Show"
(Anyone who is outside can give me a perception check if you'd like)
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Perception: 11
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
"Thank you very much, darling." Nean places the copper on the bar table, grabs the glass and takes a little sip. He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to the half-elf and the dwarf. "Mind if i join you? You lot seem to be fun." , he adresses them, a tad of oppressed enlightenment in his voice. He pauses for a second as if to think twice, before he raises his glass towards the dwarf and gives the pair a wide, winning smile. "Just call me Nean."
Bram: As you watch the group, you notice one man in particular seems to be in charge. He's human, with a well groomed salt and pepper beard, and he wears deep blue robes. Another mage runs over to him to ask a question. The man nods and she runs up on stage. "We'll be starting in just a few moments everyone, thank you for your patience!"
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Bram takes a seat next to Dril,
"Is it all right if I sit with you?"
Bram moves his hands in a quick arcane gesture and quietly utters an arcane phrase, (Silent Image)
"Summoning magic can be very exhilarating to witness, you never know for sure if the creatures will obey"
Between Brams hands a small glowing pentagram appears and then a miniature devil like creature materializes above it. The devil like creature silently animates violent and angry gestures before the illusion dissolves away.
Bram winks at Dril,
"We better keep our wits about us"
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
Ospos was done sampling the foods, belly stuffed full... for at least the next half hour. He was making his way back to the street corner he'd been advertising all day, tapping a complex rhythm on his drum to tantalize as he called out to onlookers to follow him for a performance.
As he passed by the Red Gallows Tavern again, he could see some new act setting up on the stage. He frowned and looked at them more carefully... these people didn't appear to be trying to impress with their attire, surely a no-no in the Bard College.
Ospos paused in his walk, although he kept up the beat on his drum.
Perception: 21
Ospos: As well as noticing the group preparing, you also spot a group of Conclave members across the street, eyeing the conjurers. They're easy to pick out, wearing black velvet robes trimmed with lush purple. They whisper to each other, and watch suspiciously from afar. Ospos please give me a history check.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger