Anyone may join at any time as this is an open play by post; however, all characters that join must start at level 1. Use the standard array to create your character.
Welcome to Symon, a humble hamlet located in the shallows of the Mire. It serves as a gateway of sorts into the swamps. Tomb robbers often congregate here looking to form parties to break into the burial mounds that lie deeper within the Mire, hoping to unearth untold riches. Sometimes bands of the religious sort arrive hoping to purge the swamp of the alleged roaming undead population, and every now and then a party of trophy hunters show up looking to bag themselves an ogre's head to mount on their wall or something of that sort.
Chances are your first stop will be Grogg's Tavern& Inn to rest your tired bones after the long journey you've made to arrive in Symon. It is either here or Symon Square where folks of the adventuring sort congregate to form parties before either trekking off into The Shallows on foot or heading to The Docks to catch a boat on the river to quickly head deeper into the swamps.
A Tabaxi with black fur walks into Grogg's Tavern & Inn. He scans the room slowly and then walks towards the bar. He reaches into his purse and puts four copper coins on the counter. "Ale please." He says softly to the barkeep. Shadow then looks around the room, searching for other adventurers to team up with.
In the corner a greenish grey cowled and cloaked figure is brooding over a chess board half set up... The game seems half done. And you can tell that under that cowl the elf... Wich you can assume by stature... Is looking for party members worthy of joining... There is a well cared for oak long bow slung over his chair. And under the cowl by the glint of candles and the fire you can see a silver chain with an emblem on the end.
A rather thick layer of smoke hangs in the air. A few patrons are corralled around a table together playing cards, smoking, and drinking. Beyond their chatter it's rather quiet in here. Many a table is vacant, but there is another patron sitting at the bar.
The gaunt, one-eyed half-orc barkeep looks up from cleaning dishes, looks at the coppers, and then looks back at the tabaxi. He saunters off to pour a wooden mug from the taps and returns with it, gently placing it on the counter and giving it a little slide in the tabaxi's direction.
"Don't get much cat-folk 'round these parts," he says.
"Aye, we don't," the other patron at the bar says as he lights his pipe. Him being a rather wide and tall example of a half-orc. He gives Shadow a curious look.
A lizardfolk walks cautiously into the inn, unsure of what sort of reception she'll get. It's well-known that some lizardfolk resent the humans for encroaching on their swamp, but others are more open to mingling and trading. "Good evening," she says, her voice guttural.
In the shadows of the town a figure stalks from one building to another, doing their best to stay out of sight. The very outline of this person would scare most as attached to their back is a pair of large batlike wings and a spiked tail that ends in barbs. While some might know this was a tiefling he was not like most as he was what is known as feral. To add to his unsettling features he had several scars from both blades and the claws and fangs of animals, perhaps some of them being some sort of ritual scarring as they wove with the tattos on his arms and upper chest. Once he gets close to the tavern he will move inside the building, leting all see his startling form.
"I require a drink. Whatever the strongest you have is best." He calls out, striding to the bar as if he was a regular. As he speaks it is heavily accented with the thick brogue of one of the many barbarain tribes that dot the region.
The barkeep looks up at the tiefling and his eyes widen. He fetches a mug for the tiefling without a word and slides it over the counter. He nods at the lizardfolk.
"Lot's o' strange folk comin' in these days..." he says to himself.
"I am here to ask for help," says Dozaka. "I believe something strange is happening in the swamp. The creatures out there are becoming larger and more aggressive than nature alone would allow."
The tribal tiefling takes the drink and slams some coins on the counter, his wings moving to the side to show off a worn rapier on the belt loop of his furred pants. As he grips the mug he downs it in a few gulps, setting it back and wiping off his face with the back of his hand. He turns to look at Dozaka as she speaks. "Help you say? If there is a fight invovled I want in. My shaman told me to seek glory in this place."
Shadow turns towards the Lizardfolk. "You won't find a better Rogue than this one. This one is also interested in figuring out what is going on." Shadow takes a few sips of ale and moves closer to the lizardfolk.
From the corner a voice speaks with a rolling accent that speaks to high courtiers and nobility... It "says check mate"... Thus wraping up his game. Tarvis slips towards Shadow and Dozaka... Pulling his cowl down you see a shadow elf... Late 20s with one scar over his left eye. There is a silver chain with and oak leaf at thend around his neck. The two shortswords on his back seem to be always available. His bow now slung over his shoulder...
Once again he speaks... And his flowing voice reminds of high born society. "Well if there is good to be done here... Wether for the crown. Or for the sake of the land I'm in... And maybe while were there we shall earn some coin."
He offers his hand in a friendly face obvious gesture of friendship. And as he does so says... My name is Tarvis of Arulean... A kings ranger... And i am at your service.
The tiefling gives the fancy looking elf a once over and then turns back to the bar to wave the half orc over so he can get another drink. His tail teitches and he unfurls his wings once he leans forward to get comfortable. "If you are so eager to help then I think the concern should be wherher or not ya can fight with those fancy swords of yours. Last man I saw that spoke all fancy like you ended up being beaten by a wee girl with a stick while he had this here fancy sword that I claim now."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
The barkeep fetches the tiefling another mug and looks to the lizardfolk.
"There ain't nothin' natural about what goes on out in The Mire, m'lady. I've heard many a rumor about what it's like beyond the shallows... it ain't pretty. Make sure you invest in a guide, there's plenty of them out by the caravan camp on the south side of town. Wouldn't want to get lost out there, would ya?"
The large half-orc patron at the bar looks at all of the adventurers who have spoken up thus far with a grave look on his face and says
"Lots o' folk get lost out in The Mire...some say there's a cult of vampires that snatches them up and presses them into servitude. Every now and then a rescue party from out of town shows up to go after missing loved ones, and they either return empty handed or not at all..."
"Sounds like a good opportunity. I say we all about band together and hire a guide. Split any reward or treasure equally." Shadow chugs his ale and stands up.
Tasras slammed the ale back once more and set the mug to the side, stretching out and letting his wings unfurl. His blood red eyes scanned those who had just talked, a smirk forming on his face. "Aye sounds like fair prospects for all of us. The thrill of battle is enough of a reason for me."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
"I am incapable of becoming lost no matter... Where i go a simple swamp will be no problem... And too you Sir Tasras demon spawn... I am neither fancily dressed nor are my weapons fancy... I just have class... I take care of my plane but effect weaponry... And as to your insults i will ignore your trying to get a rise out of me... It is not well for a party to start with arguments... Maybe our energies would be better focused on working toward a plan for the up coming adventures..." Thus saying Travis offers his hand... And a drink all round.
Once finished his rum he turns to shadow and replies... "Im ready whenever..."
"Sure, but you know...I've heard once you get REAAAAL deep into The Mire things start getting...strange. Some folks say there's some sort of twisted magic at play trying to turn folks around out there, and apparently the guides are the only folk able to keep things straight out there."
The barkeep stands up from leaning over the bar and goes back to washing dishes
"Just some advice, you know...take it or leave it."
The half orc patron speaks up
"Guide or not, it wouldn't hurt to stop by camp. I heard there are plenty of folk looking to get their hands on some relics from The Mire. Heard they was willin' to pay. Of course, that's assuming ye ain't opposed to robbin' those burial mounds."
Just to clarify for some my accent sounds of nobility but i look like assassins creed mixed with rangers apprentice... Im croungy and scarred... Im not a fancy high elf im a shadow elf whos seen shit...
This is an out of game comment to help with understanding.
The Mire
Anyone may join at any time as this is an open play by post; however, all characters that join must start at level 1. Use the standard array to create your character.
Welcome to Symon, a humble hamlet located in the shallows of the Mire. It serves as a gateway of sorts into the swamps. Tomb robbers often congregate here looking to form parties to break into the burial mounds that lie deeper within the Mire, hoping to unearth untold riches. Sometimes bands of the religious sort arrive hoping to purge the swamp of the alleged roaming undead population, and every now and then a party of trophy hunters show up looking to bag themselves an ogre's head to mount on their wall or something of that sort.
Chances are your first stop will be Grogg's Tavern & Inn to rest your tired bones after the long journey you've made to arrive in Symon. It is either here or Symon Square where folks of the adventuring sort congregate to form parties before either trekking off into The Shallows on foot or heading to The Docks to catch a boat on the river to quickly head deeper into the swamps.
Let's get this show on the road. Have fun!
A Tabaxi with black fur walks into Grogg's Tavern & Inn. He scans the room slowly and then walks towards the bar. He reaches into his purse and puts four copper coins on the counter. "Ale please." He says softly to the barkeep. Shadow then looks around the room, searching for other adventurers to team up with.
Koda Kalashtar Samurai Eberron - The lost Laboratories
In the corner a greenish grey cowled and cloaked figure is brooding over a chess board half set up... The game seems half done. And you can tell that under that cowl the elf... Wich you can assume by stature... Is looking for party members worthy of joining... There is a well cared for oak long bow slung over his chair. And under the cowl by the glint of candles and the fire you can see a silver chain with an emblem on the end.
A rather thick layer of smoke hangs in the air. A few patrons are corralled around a table together playing cards, smoking, and drinking. Beyond their chatter it's rather quiet in here. Many a table is vacant, but there is another patron sitting at the bar.
The gaunt, one-eyed half-orc barkeep looks up from cleaning dishes, looks at the coppers, and then looks back at the tabaxi. He saunters off to pour a wooden mug from the taps and returns with it, gently placing it on the counter and giving it a little slide in the tabaxi's direction.
"Don't get much cat-folk 'round these parts," he says.
"Aye, we don't," the other patron at the bar says as he lights his pipe. Him being a rather wide and tall example of a half-orc. He gives Shadow a curious look.
A lizardfolk walks cautiously into the inn, unsure of what sort of reception she'll get. It's well-known that some lizardfolk resent the humans for encroaching on their swamp, but others are more open to mingling and trading. "Good evening," she says, her voice guttural.
In the shadows of the town a figure stalks from one building to another, doing their best to stay out of sight. The very outline of this person would scare most as attached to their back is a pair of large batlike wings and a spiked tail that ends in barbs. While some might know this was a tiefling he was not like most as he was what is known as feral. To add to his unsettling features he had several scars from both blades and the claws and fangs of animals, perhaps some of them being some sort of ritual scarring as they wove with the tattos on his arms and upper chest. Once he gets close to the tavern he will move inside the building, leting all see his startling form.
"I require a drink. Whatever the strongest you have is best." He calls out, striding to the bar as if he was a regular. As he speaks it is heavily accented with the thick brogue of one of the many barbarain tribes that dot the region.
https://ddb.ac/characters/8119873/OwG1BY
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
The barkeep looks up at the tiefling and his eyes widen. He fetches a mug for the tiefling without a word and slides it over the counter. He nods at the lizardfolk.
"Lot's o' strange folk comin' in these days..." he says to himself.
"I am here to ask for help," says Dozaka. "I believe something strange is happening in the swamp. The creatures out there are becoming larger and more aggressive than nature alone would allow."
The tribal tiefling takes the drink and slams some coins on the counter, his wings moving to the side to show off a worn rapier on the belt loop of his furred pants. As he grips the mug he downs it in a few gulps, setting it back and wiping off his face with the back of his hand. He turns to look at Dozaka as she speaks. "Help you say? If there is a fight invovled I want in. My shaman told me to seek glory in this place."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Shadow turns towards the Lizardfolk. "You won't find a better Rogue than this one. This one is also interested in figuring out what is going on." Shadow takes a few sips of ale and moves closer to the lizardfolk.
Koda Kalashtar Samurai Eberron - The lost Laboratories
From the corner a voice speaks with a rolling accent that speaks to high courtiers and nobility... It "says check mate"... Thus wraping up his game. Tarvis slips towards Shadow and Dozaka... Pulling his cowl down you see a shadow elf... Late 20s with one scar over his left eye. There is a silver chain with and oak leaf at thend around his neck. The two shortswords on his back seem to be always available. His bow now slung over his shoulder...
Once again he speaks... And his flowing voice reminds of high born society. "Well if there is good to be done here... Wether for the crown. Or for the sake of the land I'm in... And maybe while were there we shall earn some coin."
He offers his hand in a friendly face obvious gesture of friendship. And as he does so says... My name is Tarvis of Arulean... A kings ranger... And i am at your service.
The tiefling gives the fancy looking elf a once over and then turns back to the bar to wave the half orc over so he can get another drink. His tail teitches and he unfurls his wings once he leans forward to get comfortable. "If you are so eager to help then I think the concern should be wherher or not ya can fight with those fancy swords of yours. Last man I saw that spoke all fancy like you ended up being beaten by a wee girl with a stick while he had this here fancy sword that I claim now."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
The barkeep fetches the tiefling another mug and looks to the lizardfolk.
"There ain't nothin' natural about what goes on out in The Mire, m'lady. I've heard many a rumor about what it's like beyond the shallows... it ain't pretty. Make sure you invest in a guide, there's plenty of them out by the caravan camp on the south side of town. Wouldn't want to get lost out there, would ya?"
The large half-orc patron at the bar looks at all of the adventurers who have spoken up thus far with a grave look on his face and says
"Lots o' folk get lost out in The Mire...some say there's a cult of vampires that snatches them up and presses them into servitude. Every now and then a rescue party from out of town shows up to go after missing loved ones, and they either return empty handed or not at all..."
"Sounds like a good opportunity. I say we all about band together and hire a guide. Split any reward or treasure equally." Shadow chugs his ale and stands up.
Koda Kalashtar Samurai Eberron - The lost Laboratories
Tasras slammed the ale back once more and set the mug to the side, stretching out and letting his wings unfurl. His blood red eyes scanned those who had just talked, a smirk forming on his face. "Aye sounds like fair prospects for all of us. The thrill of battle is enough of a reason for me."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
"I don't need a guide," spits Dozaka. "I know my way around the swamp."
"That saves us coin then. When shall we head out?" Shadow swings his bow over his shoulder and starts sharpening daggers.
Koda Kalashtar Samurai Eberron - The lost Laboratories
"I am incapable of becoming lost no matter... Where i go a simple swamp will be no problem... And too you Sir Tasras demon spawn... I am neither fancily dressed nor are my weapons fancy... I just have class... I take care of my plane but effect weaponry... And as to your insults i will ignore your trying to get a rise out of me... It is not well for a party to start with arguments... Maybe our energies would be better focused on working toward a plan for the up coming adventures..." Thus saying Travis offers his hand... And a drink all round.
Once finished his rum he turns to shadow and replies... "Im ready whenever..."
The barkeep laughs at Dozaka
"Sure, but you know...I've heard once you get REAAAAL deep into The Mire things start getting...strange. Some folks say there's some sort of twisted magic at play trying to turn folks around out there, and apparently the guides are the only folk able to keep things straight out there."
The barkeep stands up from leaning over the bar and goes back to washing dishes
"Just some advice, you know...take it or leave it."
The half orc patron speaks up
"Guide or not, it wouldn't hurt to stop by camp. I heard there are plenty of folk looking to get their hands on some relics from The Mire. Heard they was willin' to pay. Of course, that's assuming ye ain't opposed to robbin' those burial mounds."
Just to clarify for some my accent sounds of nobility but i look like assassins creed mixed with rangers apprentice... Im croungy and scarred... Im not a fancy high elf im a shadow elf whos seen shit...
This is an out of game comment to help with understanding.