Now then! You find yourselves in the trading town of River's Rush. For a major trading post, it's modest to say the least. It sits upon a river which drives 60 miles to the ocean. Several roads lead in and out of the city - one to the mountains three days ride away, two to the borders of neighboring kingdoms, and one to a salt mine three days ride from the gate. River's Rush is home to approximately 1000 people, consisting of guilds, craftsmen, local traders, farmers, and nobility. Due to the area's strategic economic location, the average population is typically closer to 3000. Sailors, merchant caravans, mercenary companies, and travelling nobility with their retinues. Within this fine hub of commerce and culture, there sits an inn: The Laughing Copper. Its owner, Miles, is a former adventurer with grandiose tales of travel and wonder. Because of contacts and social reputation, the inn is also a hub for mercenaries, merchants, and work for those seeking labor more than hauling crates or pulling up crops.
Emet sighed softly as he entered the inn, looking around at the people that currently occupied the room before he whent over and took a seat at the bar. "How much for a drink, and whats the word around town?" He asked.
Miles smiles at the sight of a youthful, intrepid soul, "Handful of coppers'll get you a drink. Couple silvers enough to put most under for the night or serve friends. As for work," the older man rubs a long scar on the back of his neck, "I hear an apothecary nearby has had some pest troubles. Constables also claim there's a gang on the rise, but no one's seen anything yet. Salt mines always has a small caravan leaving every couple days with resupply to protect. Last I heard is that the fancy fellow there," he points to a massively-built, richly dressed man across the floor, "He's an emmissary from the mountain tribes. Says they have a problem in the peaks that needs some extra help."
Emet looked at the emissary for a moment, debating whether or not to talk with him first. "Thanks for the information." He said as he placed a gold coin onto the table. "For the information, my drink, and a drink for the emissary if you would be so kind."
UPDATE 1: In the late morning, a few curious and generous patrons begin mingling with the lone emissary. The man seems overly gladdened by their company and the whole group sets off out the door to places unknown...
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
A young man sitting at the bar looks up as he overhears the nearby conversation. The figure is quite striking: smooth skin variegated with large bands of shimmering golden yellow, orange, and black, with thinner stripes and flecks of dull green and dark blue as well. His hair is just as colorful and his eyes are iridescent orange. The jade beaded fringe on his maroon poncho bounces about as he stands abruptly and walks over to the large man. "That man said you have a problem in the mountains. If it is evil that plagues you, I will help to put an end to it." he says. His demeanor is so direct as to be awkward, but his face is deathly serious.
Emet sat up and started to head over to the emissaries table, but stopped for a moment when he noticed the genasi sit across from him. Seeing this, Emet decided to wait and listen to the conversation before he threw in his two coppers, leaning against the bar. "Say uh...you wouldn't happen to know who that is would you?" He asked Miles, trying to dicernd weather the genasi was friend, or foe.
Miles points a serving girl across the floor to the emissary and leans against the bar next to Emet, "Goliath, they're called, and not for nothing. Not many of them, but every one's worth four of you and me. Says he's sent to look for help, been here over half a week too. I feel bad for him, so I gave him a good room to himself. Must be hard finding help in a place like this where people come and go so quick."
The overly-large man's skin is a pale gray, with head and hands adorned with jewelry made from as many polished stones as gems. Were it not for him sitting, he would tower over this newcomer and nearly hit the ceiling. Before he can respond, a barmaid timidly appears next to the pair and mumbles something to the foreigner. His smile is wide, bettaying his imposing figure, and he gives a nod and beckoning wave to the generous patron at the bar.
"So nice to see hospitality away from home," he begins, "And as for you, if I weren't here to witness, I'd say anyone else had met a fraud. Such a pleasure to meet someone touched by stone and earth. Now, for evil, I don't know about that. But that's just the problem, you see: We don't know what's causing the problem." Great fingers weave together to form a shelf for his chin to rest upon, "For the past week, people have been getting sick. In the mountains, we have little contact and must treat plagues with serious care. This could be a passing illness sweeping the land, or it could be something more. Regardless, I was sent to find aid if I can. I plan to be here another two days, though I'd like to leave sooner if I can."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Through the door to the inn enters a tall, but stocky figure hunched over in age. Wearing dark tanned furs and covering his head. Long gray hair spills out from the hood and a musky wooded aroma fills the room. He slowly makes his way over to the Goliath, using a large oak staff to help support his weight. He sits down, lifts his head just enough for his bright green eyes to peak out of the shadow of his hood.
“Goliath is friend? Outsider like me?” His voice is rough and deep, almost like a growl.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Mavi Göz Mal - Half Orc Monk Level 1 Not Another Lost Mine of Phandelver
Drita - Aasimar Hexblade Warlock Lvl 3 Tomb of Annhilation
Emet returned the nod before he took a seat across from him and to the side of Goliath. "A sickness you say? That sounds troubling.....what are the symptoms of the infected if I may ask, and when did this all start?" He asked curiously, trying to get whatever information he can.
Mirza smiles and nods at the goliath's comment about his elemental attributes, then looks more thoughtful as the man tells of the sickness "It could just be a natural affliction. I have no interest in preventing nature from running it's course, but I suppose it could just as well be something darker. I will accompany you back to the mountains to see this ailment for myself."He regards the gruff newcomer with a curious stare but doesn't say anything to him. When the human talks he leans closer. "Yes, good questions."
In the corner nearby the conversation with the goliath there is a solitary figure still claded in her cloak and hood. A finished wooden plate of stew is in front of her and she takes the mug of mead with her hand covered by a leather glove, to take a sip while listening to the conversation. When she puts the mug again at the table a little piece of red skin can be seen at her wrist.
She doesn't seem to notice as she leans a little bit forward to better hear what the goliath's has to say.
An older tabaxi lounges nearby, keenly listening in to everything that is said... a look of concern on his weathered face as he looks over all the young folk gathering around for the tale from the goliath. His bright blue eyes are hard to miss as they constantly sweep around the room, looking over anyone and everyone. His right ear is scarred and marred with a single golden hoop. He makes no attempt to disguise his eavesdropping, or the look of bemusement etched upon his face.
Emet noticed the girl in the corner, watching from the corner of his eye so as not to draw suspicion. Apon getting a glance of her red skin, he tensed up at first before visibly relaxing. "Surely if your interested in what is to be said, it would suit better to be a bit closer." He said in a calm tone, before turning to the elder Tabaxi. "The same for you if you would like." He said as he scooted over to make room for the two should they wish to sit at the table.
The tabaxi notices the shy lass with the red skin and offers a confident, warm smile. He glances over the human’s invitation and nods sagely. “How could I say no to such a warm welcome, my friend.” He gathers his meager dinner and stiffly gets to his feet. “So, some troubles in the mountains, eh? You young folks lookin’ to save the world? ‘Spose you might be in need of some guidance if you’re to make it back in one piece.” He takes a seat next to Emet. “Name’s Leaf. What should I call the rest of you?” Without looking he calls over his shoulder. “Why don’t you join us, lass. No one here will hurt you. You have my word.”
He smiled softly before he spoke to her in infernal. "It is ok miss, there is no need to hide..." He told her just quiet enough for only her to hear. "I can't speak for the others, but I won't judge you just because of what you look like." (Persuasion check in chat: 24)
Emet chuckled a bit at Leafs words. "I wouldnt say saving the world...but helping out those that I can sounds fine by me." He said as he held out a hand. "Emet Rahas, it's a pleasure to meet you Lead."
She stares under her hood to the two men, or the men and the cat-men, that are talking to her. If the words in infernal meant something to her, or if she was surprised, Emet cannot tell, but he could see her pupils, red and orange, reflecting the fire of the fireplace in the shadows of her hood. He cannot tell it yet, for the bright or reflection in her eyes lasted but a second, but she seems pretty.
After a few seconds, she, however, stands, trying not to stand all her height and sits quickly at the table. All can see now that she has left the cover of the shadows, that the hood goes up and back much more that it would do in a round, normal head. She maybe has a elaborated hairstyle, but looking at the tail, covered in bandages, that she keeps down and around one of her legs trying to hide it, it's more likely that under the hood there are another thing.
"Than.. Thank you" she says trying not to touch anything at the table "please continue.. didn't want to... interrupt..." she adds
Emet smiled softly to her as she sat down at the table, not bothering to mention what he can see, telling it would be a sore spot for her, everyone is entitled to keep there own secrets after all. "No trouble at all, we were just starting, and I'm sure the more people willing to help this man out..." He bows his head to the Goliath. "The sooner the problem can be solved."
“I am Mirza Duneborn. If this plague proves to be some unnatural evil in need of purging, how can you all be of use? I am a warrior trained in ancient and primal magic. Are you warriors as well? Mages? Marksmen? Healers?”
Emet ponders his answer for a moment. "I am a paladin, and while I may not have much means of healing or curing sicknesses at the moment...I will not stand by and do nothing while inoccents suffer, no matter who or what they are."
The young woman moves a little bit away from Emet when he says he is a paladin. It's more a reaction than a conscious movement. She doesn't says anything about her abilities, if she has any at all.
The emmissary's reaction to the gruff, green-skinned newcomer could be regarded as "icy" and still be an understatement, "I am only a friend of your kind if I have a very good reason to be." After the flood of newcomers, though, the goliath turns to a much more hospitable tone toward all present
"Uruk, second brother to the chieftain of the Deepcrag Clan," The goliath beams proudly across the table, "Thank you all for taking such a care. As far as this illness that's befallen my tribe, it's a lingering sickness that never truly leaves. A month ago, the first fell ill with fever and pain in their head. Now, over a third of our numbers are ill and those who have recovered still bear effects of the plague. The worst cases have even seen their sickness return." With muscled arms crossed over his chest, Uruk leans back in his chair, "It's an odd thing, not apparently fatal, but very stubborn. Half of the clan is either sick or tending to the sick, so the other half toils twice as hard to make up."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
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Now then! You find yourselves in the trading town of River's Rush. For a major trading post, it's modest to say the least. It sits upon a river which drives 60 miles to the ocean. Several roads lead in and out of the city - one to the mountains three days ride away, two to the borders of neighboring kingdoms, and one to a salt mine three days ride from the gate.
River's Rush is home to approximately 1000 people, consisting of guilds, craftsmen, local traders, farmers, and nobility. Due to the area's strategic economic location, the average population is typically closer to 3000. Sailors, merchant caravans, mercenary companies, and travelling nobility with their retinues.
Within this fine hub of commerce and culture, there sits an inn: The Laughing Copper. Its owner, Miles, is a former adventurer with grandiose tales of travel and wonder. Because of contacts and social reputation, the inn is also a hub for mercenaries, merchants, and work for those seeking labor more than hauling crates or pulling up crops.
Emet sighed softly as he entered the inn, looking around at the people that currently occupied the room before he whent over and took a seat at the bar. "How much for a drink, and whats the word around town?" He asked.
Miles smiles at the sight of a youthful, intrepid soul, "Handful of coppers'll get you a drink. Couple silvers enough to put most under for the night or serve friends. As for work," the older man rubs a long scar on the back of his neck, "I hear an apothecary nearby has had some pest troubles. Constables also claim there's a gang on the rise, but no one's seen anything yet. Salt mines always has a small caravan leaving every couple days with resupply to protect. Last I heard is that the fancy fellow there," he points to a massively-built, richly dressed man across the floor, "He's an emmissary from the mountain tribes. Says they have a problem in the peaks that needs some extra help."
Emet looked at the emissary for a moment, debating whether or not to talk with him first. "Thanks for the information." He said as he placed a gold coin onto the table. "For the information, my drink, and a drink for the emissary if you would be so kind."
UPDATE 1: In the late morning, a few curious and generous patrons begin mingling with the lone emissary. The man seems overly gladdened by their company and the whole group sets off out the door to places unknown...
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
A young man sitting at the bar looks up as he overhears the nearby conversation. The figure is quite striking: smooth skin variegated with large bands of shimmering golden yellow, orange, and black, with thinner stripes and flecks of dull green and dark blue as well. His hair is just as colorful and his eyes are iridescent orange. The jade beaded fringe on his maroon poncho bounces about as he stands abruptly and walks over to the large man. "That man said you have a problem in the mountains. If it is evil that plagues you, I will help to put an end to it." he says. His demeanor is so direct as to be awkward, but his face is deathly serious.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Emet sat up and started to head over to the emissaries table, but stopped for a moment when he noticed the genasi sit across from him. Seeing this, Emet decided to wait and listen to the conversation before he threw in his two coppers, leaning against the bar. "Say uh...you wouldn't happen to know who that is would you?" He asked Miles, trying to dicernd weather the genasi was friend, or foe.
Miles points a serving girl across the floor to the emissary and leans against the bar next to Emet, "Goliath, they're called, and not for nothing. Not many of them, but every one's worth four of you and me. Says he's sent to look for help, been here over half a week too. I feel bad for him, so I gave him a good room to himself. Must be hard finding help in a place like this where people come and go so quick."
The overly-large man's skin is a pale gray, with head and hands adorned with jewelry made from as many polished stones as gems. Were it not for him sitting, he would tower over this newcomer and nearly hit the ceiling. Before he can respond, a barmaid timidly appears next to the pair and mumbles something to the foreigner. His smile is wide, bettaying his imposing figure, and he gives a nod and beckoning wave to the generous patron at the bar.
"So nice to see hospitality away from home," he begins, "And as for you, if I weren't here to witness, I'd say anyone else had met a fraud. Such a pleasure to meet someone touched by stone and earth. Now, for evil, I don't know about that. But that's just the problem, you see: We don't know what's causing the problem." Great fingers weave together to form a shelf for his chin to rest upon, "For the past week, people have been getting sick. In the mountains, we have little contact and must treat plagues with serious care. This could be a passing illness sweeping the land, or it could be something more. Regardless, I was sent to find aid if I can. I plan to be here another two days, though I'd like to leave sooner if I can."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Through the door to the inn enters a tall, but stocky figure hunched over in age. Wearing dark tanned furs and covering his head. Long gray hair spills out from the hood and a musky wooded aroma fills the room. He slowly makes his way over to the Goliath, using a large oak staff to help support his weight. He sits down, lifts his head just enough for his bright green eyes to peak out of the shadow of his hood.
“Goliath is friend? Outsider like me?” His voice is rough and deep, almost like a growl.
Mavi Göz Mal - Half Orc Monk Level 1 Not Another Lost Mine of Phandelver
Drita - Aasimar Hexblade Warlock Lvl 3 Tomb of Annhilation
Iznik Sylnithas - Half Drow Blood Hunter Level 2 Precipice of Voids
Emet returned the nod before he took a seat across from him and to the side of Goliath. "A sickness you say? That sounds troubling.....what are the symptoms of the infected if I may ask, and when did this all start?" He asked curiously, trying to get whatever information he can.
Mirza smiles and nods at the goliath's comment about his elemental attributes, then looks more thoughtful as the man tells of the sickness "It could just be a natural affliction. I have no interest in preventing nature from running it's course, but I suppose it could just as well be something darker. I will accompany you back to the mountains to see this ailment for myself." He regards the gruff newcomer with a curious stare but doesn't say anything to him. When the human talks he leans closer. "Yes, good questions."
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
In the corner nearby the conversation with the goliath there is a solitary figure still claded in her cloak and hood. A finished wooden plate of stew is in front of her and she takes the mug of mead with her hand covered by a leather glove, to take a sip while listening to the conversation. When she puts the mug again at the table a little piece of red skin can be seen at her wrist.
She doesn't seem to notice as she leans a little bit forward to better hear what the goliath's has to say.
PbP Character: A few ;)
An older tabaxi lounges nearby, keenly listening in to everything that is said... a look of concern on his weathered face as he looks over all the young folk gathering around for the tale from the goliath. His bright blue eyes are hard to miss as they constantly sweep around the room, looking over anyone and everyone. His right ear is scarred and marred with a single golden hoop. He makes no attempt to disguise his eavesdropping, or the look of bemusement etched upon his face.
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
When the bright eyes of the Tabaxi looks at her, the hooded figure recoils and tries to keep herself in the darkness of her corner.
PbP Character: A few ;)
perception roll in chat: 17)
Emet noticed the girl in the corner, watching from the corner of his eye so as not to draw suspicion. Apon getting a glance of her red skin, he tensed up at first before visibly relaxing. "Surely if your interested in what is to be said, it would suit better to be a bit closer." He said in a calm tone, before turning to the elder Tabaxi. "The same for you if you would like." He said as he scooted over to make room for the two should they wish to sit at the table.
The girl contains a gasp and tries to cover her face even deeper in her hood
"I.. I am fine here if you don't mind. I.. I.. was just... curious..." she says.
PbP Character: A few ;)
The tabaxi notices the shy lass with the red skin and offers a confident, warm smile. He glances over the human’s invitation and nods sagely. “How could I say no to such a warm welcome, my friend.” He gathers his meager dinner and stiffly gets to his feet. “So, some troubles in the mountains, eh? You young folks lookin’ to save the world? ‘Spose you might be in need of some guidance if you’re to make it back in one piece.”
He takes a seat next to Emet. “Name’s Leaf. What should I call the rest of you?” Without looking he calls over his shoulder. “Why don’t you join us, lass. No one here will hurt you. You have my word.”
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
He smiled softly before he spoke to her in infernal. "It is ok miss, there is no need to hide..." He told her just quiet enough for only her to hear. "I can't speak for the others, but I won't judge you just because of what you look like." (Persuasion check in chat: 24)
Emet chuckled a bit at Leafs words. "I wouldnt say saving the world...but helping out those that I can sounds fine by me." He said as he held out a hand. "Emet Rahas, it's a pleasure to meet you Lead."
She stares under her hood to the two men, or the men and the cat-men, that are talking to her. If the words in infernal meant something to her, or if she was surprised, Emet cannot tell, but he could see her pupils, red and orange, reflecting the fire of the fireplace in the shadows of her hood. He cannot tell it yet, for the bright or reflection in her eyes lasted but a second, but she seems pretty.
After a few seconds, she, however, stands, trying not to stand all her height and sits quickly at the table. All can see now that she has left the cover of the shadows, that the hood goes up and back much more that it would do in a round, normal head. She maybe has a elaborated hairstyle, but looking at the tail, covered in bandages, that she keeps down and around one of her legs trying to hide it, it's more likely that under the hood there are another thing.
"Than.. Thank you" she says trying not to touch anything at the table "please continue.. didn't want to... interrupt..." she adds
PbP Character: A few ;)
Emet smiled softly to her as she sat down at the table, not bothering to mention what he can see, telling it would be a sore spot for her, everyone is entitled to keep there own secrets after all. "No trouble at all, we were just starting, and I'm sure the more people willing to help this man out..." He bows his head to the Goliath. "The sooner the problem can be solved."
“I am Mirza Duneborn. If this plague proves to be some unnatural evil in need of purging, how can you all be of use? I am a warrior trained in ancient and primal magic. Are you warriors as well? Mages? Marksmen? Healers?”
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Emet ponders his answer for a moment. "I am a paladin, and while I may not have much means of healing or curing sicknesses at the moment...I will not stand by and do nothing while inoccents suffer, no matter who or what they are."
The young woman moves a little bit away from Emet when he says he is a paladin. It's more a reaction than a conscious movement. She doesn't says anything about her abilities, if she has any at all.
PbP Character: A few ;)
The emmissary's reaction to the gruff, green-skinned newcomer could be regarded as "icy" and still be an understatement, "I am only a friend of your kind if I have a very good reason to be." After the flood of newcomers, though, the goliath turns to a much more hospitable tone toward all present
"Uruk, second brother to the chieftain of the Deepcrag Clan," The goliath beams proudly across the table, "Thank you all for taking such a care. As far as this illness that's befallen my tribe, it's a lingering sickness that never truly leaves. A month ago, the first fell ill with fever and pain in their head. Now, over a third of our numbers are ill and those who have recovered still bear effects of the plague. The worst cases have even seen their sickness return." With muscled arms crossed over his chest, Uruk leans back in his chair, "It's an odd thing, not apparently fatal, but very stubborn. Half of the clan is either sick or tending to the sick, so the other half toils twice as hard to make up."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero