"A fine day it is!" boomed the deep voice of the half-orc known as Tor as he walked down the dirt streets of Anterloch, his head swiveling from left to right over and over again as he took in the local scenery. As a caravan was passing by Tor took a few steps off the road to let him pass as he looked curiously at the wagon covering possibly useful goods. His hand reached down to his waist, lightly lifting the coin pouch several times as he contemplated the most common of issues. "It's a little light... It may not be a bad idea to take a look at the notice board or the guild hall if there is one." His words were directed to no one, the age old habit of speaking his mind to a literal sense taking over again.
He dug his toes into the earth a bit, savoring the sensation that he could only describe as most natural before letting out a soft sigh and a small smile. "I do hope their is a hunt available, nothing better than getting into a scrape followed by a stiff drink." He began treading heavily again through the town in search for any clues to a job.
OOC: Is there a way to see the character descriptions? I don't remember almost any of the information regarding the other characters.
The village was small, with a population that couldn’t be more than a hundred people, but they were hardworking, and it had a lot of potential. It was a mostly human town, but with all the travelers that came through, there were also some gnomes, halflings, dwarves, and half-elves residing there, talking outside their houses, only giving the newcomers passing glances and polite smiles, a little cautious of the large half-orc in particular perhaps, but not hostile.
Aside from a scattering of wooden houses, there was a Town Hall, an old library, a general store, a blacksmith where a young man was outside stoking his forge, and a rustic-looking tavern that looked like it had weathered quite a few storms in its day. Overhead, as if in response to Tor’s wishes but in reality merely coincidental timing, a gigantic shadow passed swiftly over the village with the rhythmic beat of massive wings meeting their ears, heading in the direction of the mountains. A ripple of unease passed through the townsfolk, everyone looking up and whispering to each other with widened eyes. Young children hid behind their mother’s legs or ran indoors. Already the shadow had grown distant however, paying them no mind. But before vanishing, a few rays of sunlight glinted off crimson scales and a powerful roar rumbled like thunder before fading away with the sense of dread the beast had brought with it, making everyone sigh collectively in relief.
A sturdy and scarred dwarf makes his way through the village. His furrowed brow and stoic features highlight his face as he searches through the town. As he comes upon the blacksmith, he converses with the smith on duty inquiring about any work available, lodgings and most importantly where one can find a tavern to drown the past.
The boy turned to him, scratching the top of his head with a sheepish smile. He had swarthy tan skin, well-muscled arms, ruffled black hair, light stubble, and dark brown eyes. “The tavern might have a room for you, if you can convince old Boris to rent it to you. He’s not a big fan of all the travelers in these parts. Even though they keep us all in business. The food’s not the best, but the drink is decent, and if there’s anything happening in the area, you’re sure to hear talk of it there. But I don’t know how much work you’ll find here. We barely have money to keep the town running as it is.” he admitted.
A light-footed man walks around the town. A few know of him. He who saved a girl's life in one town, or helped a drowning child. His golden eyes shine at their praise. As he pushes his black hair out of his face, he asks where the nearest tavern is. He hopes to find lodging there as well. As he heads to the tavern, he sees a shadow pass over the town. A little boy trips on the ground in the panic of running away. Abba gently helps him back up, reasurring him it's safe.
I thank him. Give him some helpful advice about his current activities. Toss him a copper piece and stroll towards the tavern. I enter the tavern and glance around and ask for Boris.
(So when do you guys think you’ll be available to officially meet on here? I’m done with my trip and can be active again.)
The little boy looked up at Abba with wide eyes, calming a bit though at the reassurance. “You sure? That was a big monster. What if it comes back?” he asked nervously.
——-
Boris, a balding middle aged man, was behind the bar, grumbling something about a group of rowdy, heavily drinking dwarves at one of the tables as he cleaned glasses. He looked up when another dwarf entered and scoffed softly, assuming he was here with the others. He had nothing against dwarves, just against travelers in general. They were always getting up to trouble that the town didn’t need.
(Was that a Nat 20 or do you just have good charisma?)
Boris squinted at him and after a moment he just sighed and scribbled something in a book. “Fine, fine. There’s a room above the kitchen. Cheapest one. Gets a little hot in there in the evening, but it’s clean. That’ll be 5 silvers a night. Just don’t go causing too much of a ruckus.” he grumbled in resignation. More money to keep the inn running was never a bad thing.
“Hey Boris, give him a round on us!” one of the dwarves called loudly. Boris shook his head and poured Umnam some ale. “You want work? Go tell that crazy gnome to stop chasing off my paying customers with all that racket he’s been making at night.” he grumbled.
“From the library? I hear there’s all kinds of weird things that go on in there.” a dwarf agreed with a big swig of his drink and a hardy burp.
Rowan looks every bit the naive and scared 18-year-old. He looks like an average kid. Average height. Average looks. Except for the golden scales that is.
Rowan walks carefully through the streets, still weary after the ordeal he just endured. Priests. Ceremonies. Saving his life by making a pact with the spirit of an ancient golden dragon.
"A normal day in the life of Rowan Starleaf," Rowan whispers to himself. "What the hell has happened to me?"
"What did you do to me?" Rowan says this a loud enough to startle a woman and her child walking by. "Sorry... I'm... Sorry." Rowan quickly walks away.
He catches his reflection in a window. The golden scales of his new-found draconian lineage appear just under the surface of his skin. His long black hair and clothing hide most of it. In the reflection he sees a sturdy dwarf talking to the local blacksmith. He overhears them talking. Something about a tavern. Rowan decides to follow the dwarf to the tavern. He's hungry, cold and needs to sit down to collect his thoughts.
"Thanks for the drink. It is nice to see friendly faces." I sit and join the group. "I am in the area looking for work. Do you all know of any work to be found? I'm not picky just need to keep busy."
(Rowan can come join the group if he wants. It’s not dwarf exclusive haha.)
They exchanged looks. “Well that roarin’ beasty flew by again didn’t it? Heard the racket from in here. It’s not the firs’ time that’s happened.” one said.
”Some day it’s a dragon.” a female dwarf whispered dramatically.
The group burst out laughing. “A dragon? The ale’s gotten to ya lass! Those are folk tales to scare children! Even if there was one, why would it come around here?” another scoffed.
The female dwarf shrugged, blushing and taking a swig of her drink. “Dunno. But Roondar might. The old gnome at the library. Like Boris said, he makes a lot of noise at night. Rumor has it he’s experimenting with all that arcane nonsense.”
Rowan slips into the tavern. He sees an open seat by a group of dwarves, including the dwarf he followed. Looks like the customers are giving this table a wide berth. Rowan sits down on a chair against the wall. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. He overhears the sturdy dwarf ask the other dwarves about finding work before sleep overtakes him. He falls asleep sitting up.
Umnam looks at the quiet human that takes a seat. Slaps his back and says "This is no place for taking a nap, my friend! Boris bring a drink for the boy! It's on me!"
I join in the conversation with the dwarves, "So you say there might be some trouble brewing in town? So do you think there might be some gold in it? I mean I don't mind doing a good deed but if it's trouble I aim to be paid for my trouble. I may need to visit this Roondar and see if there is some monetary gain to be had. Anyone have a clue where I might find some help in dealing with a DRAGON!?!?!?" Umnam says with a roaring laugh and a toothy grin!
“Can’t say for sure, but if the rumors are true, dragons like treasure don’t they? Maybe you’ll get rich that way. Then you can buy us a round of drinks!” the first dwarf said heartily.
Boris rolled his eyes and poured Rowan a drink, skeptical as to whether the kid really needed one, but leaving that to him.
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"A fine day it is!" boomed the deep voice of the half-orc known as Tor as he walked down the dirt streets of Anterloch, his head swiveling from left to right over and over again as he took in the local scenery. As a caravan was passing by Tor took a few steps off the road to let him pass as he looked curiously at the wagon covering possibly useful goods. His hand reached down to his waist, lightly lifting the coin pouch several times as he contemplated the most common of issues. "It's a little light... It may not be a bad idea to take a look at the notice board or the guild hall if there is one." His words were directed to no one, the age old habit of speaking his mind to a literal sense taking over again.
He dug his toes into the earth a bit, savoring the sensation that he could only describe as most natural before letting out a soft sigh and a small smile. "I do hope their is a hunt available, nothing better than getting into a scrape followed by a stiff drink." He began treading heavily again through the town in search for any clues to a job.
OOC: Is there a way to see the character descriptions? I don't remember almost any of the information regarding the other characters.
(What is it you’d like to know?)
The village was small, with a population that couldn’t be more than a hundred people, but they were hardworking, and it had a lot of potential. It was a mostly human town, but with all the travelers that came through, there were also some gnomes, halflings, dwarves, and half-elves residing there, talking outside their houses, only giving the newcomers passing glances and polite smiles, a little cautious of the large half-orc in particular perhaps, but not hostile.
Aside from a scattering of wooden houses, there was a Town Hall, an old library, a general store, a blacksmith where a young man was outside stoking his forge, and a rustic-looking tavern that looked like it had weathered quite a few storms in its day. Overhead, as if in response to Tor’s wishes but in reality merely coincidental timing, a gigantic shadow passed swiftly over the village with the rhythmic beat of massive wings meeting their ears, heading in the direction of the mountains. A ripple of unease passed through the townsfolk, everyone looking up and whispering to each other with widened eyes. Young children hid behind their mother’s legs or ran indoors. Already the shadow had grown distant however, paying them no mind. But before vanishing, a few rays of sunlight glinted off crimson scales and a powerful roar rumbled like thunder before fading away with the sense of dread the beast had brought with it, making everyone sigh collectively in relief.
A sturdy and scarred dwarf makes his way through the village. His furrowed brow and stoic features highlight his face as he searches through the town. As he comes upon the blacksmith, he converses with the smith on duty inquiring about any work available, lodgings and most importantly where one can find a tavern to drown the past.
The boy turned to him, scratching the top of his head with a sheepish smile. He had swarthy tan skin, well-muscled arms, ruffled black hair, light stubble, and dark brown eyes. “The tavern might have a room for you, if you can convince old Boris to rent it to you. He’s not a big fan of all the travelers in these parts. Even though they keep us all in business. The food’s not the best, but the drink is decent, and if there’s anything happening in the area, you’re sure to hear talk of it there. But I don’t know how much work you’ll find here. We barely have money to keep the town running as it is.” he admitted.
A light-footed man walks around the town. A few know of him. He who saved a girl's life in one town, or helped a drowning child. His golden eyes shine at their praise. As he pushes his black hair out of his face, he asks where the nearest tavern is. He hopes to find lodging there as well. As he heads to the tavern, he sees a shadow pass over the town. A little boy trips on the ground in the panic of running away. Abba gently helps him back up, reasurring him it's safe.
I thank him. Give him some helpful advice about his current activities. Toss him a copper piece and stroll towards the tavern. I enter the tavern and glance around and ask for Boris.
(So when do you guys think you’ll be available to officially meet on here? I’m done with my trip and can be active again.)
The little boy looked up at Abba with wide eyes, calming a bit though at the reassurance. “You sure? That was a big monster. What if it comes back?” he asked nervously.
——-
Boris, a balding middle aged man, was behind the bar, grumbling something about a group of rowdy, heavily drinking dwarves at one of the tables as he cleaned glasses. He looked up when another dwarf entered and scoffed softly, assuming he was here with the others. He had nothing against dwarves, just against travelers in general. They were always getting up to trouble that the town didn’t need.
I approach Boris and ask if he has lodging available. I will take the cheapest room he has.
(Roll me a persuasion check :). Roll a D20 and add the modifier for persuasion in your skills section.)
13
(Was that a Nat 20 or do you just have good charisma?)
Boris squinted at him and after a moment he just sighed and scribbled something in a book. “Fine, fine. There’s a room above the kitchen. Cheapest one. Gets a little hot in there in the evening, but it’s clean. That’ll be 5 silvers a night. Just don’t go causing too much of a ruckus.” he grumbled in resignation. More money to keep the inn running was never a bad thing.
(18 but I am proficient in persuasion)
"Thank you. (hands him 5 silver) I am not looking for trouble just some work. Can I have something stiff to relax a little? It's been a long journey."
“Hey Boris, give him a round on us!” one of the dwarves called loudly. Boris shook his head and poured Umnam some ale. “You want work? Go tell that crazy gnome to stop chasing off my paying customers with all that racket he’s been making at night.” he grumbled.
“From the library? I hear there’s all kinds of weird things that go on in there.” a dwarf agreed with a big swig of his drink and a hardy burp.
Rowan looks every bit the naive and scared 18-year-old. He looks like an average kid. Average height. Average looks. Except for the golden scales that is.
Rowan walks carefully through the streets, still weary after the ordeal he just endured. Priests. Ceremonies. Saving his life by making a pact with the spirit of an ancient golden dragon.
"A normal day in the life of Rowan Starleaf," Rowan whispers to himself. "What the hell has happened to me?"
"What did you do to me?" Rowan says this a loud enough to startle a woman and her child walking by. "Sorry... I'm... Sorry." Rowan quickly walks away.
He catches his reflection in a window. The golden scales of his new-found draconian lineage appear just under the surface of his skin. His long black hair and clothing hide most of it. In the reflection he sees a sturdy dwarf talking to the local blacksmith. He overhears them talking. Something about a tavern. Rowan decides to follow the dwarf to the tavern. He's hungry, cold and needs to sit down to collect his thoughts.
(Anyone?)
"Thanks for the drink. It is nice to see friendly faces." I sit and join the group. "I am in the area looking for work. Do you all know of any work to be found? I'm not picky just need to keep busy."
(Rowan can come join the group if he wants. It’s not dwarf exclusive haha.)
They exchanged looks. “Well that roarin’ beasty flew by again didn’t it? Heard the racket from in here. It’s not the firs’ time that’s happened.” one said.
”Some day it’s a dragon.” a female dwarf whispered dramatically.
The group burst out laughing. “A dragon? The ale’s gotten to ya lass! Those are folk tales to scare children! Even if there was one, why would it come around here?” another scoffed.
The female dwarf shrugged, blushing and taking a swig of her drink. “Dunno. But Roondar might. The old gnome at the library. Like Boris said, he makes a lot of noise at night. Rumor has it he’s experimenting with all that arcane nonsense.”
Rowan slips into the tavern. He sees an open seat by a group of dwarves, including the dwarf he followed. Looks like the customers are giving this table a wide berth. Rowan sits down on a chair against the wall. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. He overhears the sturdy dwarf ask the other dwarves about finding work before sleep overtakes him. He falls asleep sitting up.
Umnam looks at the quiet human that takes a seat. Slaps his back and says "This is no place for taking a nap, my friend! Boris bring a drink for the boy! It's on me!"
I join in the conversation with the dwarves, "So you say there might be some trouble brewing in town? So do you think there might be some gold in it? I mean I don't mind doing a good deed but if it's trouble I aim to be paid for my trouble. I may need to visit this Roondar and see if there is some monetary gain to be had. Anyone have a clue where I might find some help in dealing with a DRAGON!?!?!?" Umnam says with a roaring laugh and a toothy grin!
“Can’t say for sure, but if the rumors are true, dragons like treasure don’t they? Maybe you’ll get rich that way. Then you can buy us a round of drinks!” the first dwarf said heartily.
Boris rolled his eyes and poured Rowan a drink, skeptical as to whether the kid really needed one, but leaving that to him.