Through various means and with a variety of objectives, you have all found your way to a tavern called The Stately Ox Inn in the city of Westruun. In this tavern you found a posting that read:
"Calling skilled adventurers and investigators! A dangerous mystery is afoot in the Turst Fields. Due to a shortage of resources and a plethora of demands for those resources, the Margrave has decided to hire a group of individuals to pursue this mystery. Details on the issue and potential compensation will be provided to interested parties at the Margrave's office in the House of Reason at noon today."
Upon reading this, you all individually decided to at least hear about the offer, so you made your way to the House of Reason, located in The Opal Ward of the city. As you approach the building, you see a grand courthouse built in the High Elven style, displaying the grace and elegance their architecture is known for. At the base of the steps up to the courthouse is a marble statue of Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon. You ask the guard by the door and he directs you to the office of Margrave Brandon Zimmerset on the second floor of the courthouse. You are left there with a few others that seem to have also answered the posting. You find a chair to sit in before a large mahogany desk covered in scattered papers in the modest but well decorated office. It seems that the Margrave has yet to show up, and you don't know how long it'll be before he arrives.
(OOC: This is your chance to introduce your character to the others. I'd like everyone to describe what their character looks like to the rest, even if you want them to stay quiet for the moment. If you are confused about how your character got to Westruun, if you feel like your character wouldn't respond to this posting in this way, or if you have any other questions/concerns send me a PM!)
An angry old dwarf paces about the room muttering something about "Durned elves". His white hair and beard are luminous and full, everywhere except the top of his head, which is bald and equally luminous. A comically large lance rests upon his back over a suit of chain mail, diagonally so as to not scrape along the ground as he walks. The lance shows plenty of wear, but upon closer inspection, a trained fighter could recognize it is not for lack of care, but rather the age of a weapon forged long ago. At his waist is a warhammer and two handaxes.
Grumbling again, he paces all the way back to the oversized chair he was sitting in just a moment ago and sits for about five seconds before rising and pacing across the room once more. His eyes dart wildly over the others in the room as he passes them by. As he reaches the doorway, he stops and balls his fist. "Bah! Durned Margrave. I ain't for livin' the years he plans to make us wait! This is the fate of Grindal Goblinbane? To die waiting with not a dwarf in sight? Bah!" His shouting returns to grumbling something about "Durned mahogany".
A pale skinned half elf with white hair tied in a loose braid sits with her back straight and her hands in her lap. Either she's incredibly nervous or a very serious person as she doesn't attempt to make contact with the others in the room and simply sits and waits patiently for the Margrave to arrive. She wears gold and steel scale mail armor with a mace attached to one side of her hip. On the other, a closed quiver and a crossbow hang. Around her neck is a short necklace with a symbol that resembles the sun and strapped to her back is a shield displaying the same symbol.
Wilick sat in the office accompanied by a few others who had also sought the opportunity to work for the Margrave. Under his furs and rough spun cloak the edges of scale mail armour peaked out. Two short swords hung from his belt while over his shoulder poked the top of a quiver and a long bow.
Wilick’s grey eyes scanned the room, a little wary of the others who sat with him. He looks out of place in the city, with his home-made clothes and rough-cut hair. He also seemed on edge like he didn’t want to be around people but didn’t have a choice. He looked down at his hands worn and weathered from years working in the gardens and hunting in the forest, and remembered a time we people might have considered him refined.
Weary from nights of unrest, he hoped that this meeting would not take too long. There was much he needed to do still, but if he was to make any progress he would need resources. That meant money. Which meant work
Arriving alongside the others is a slightly tired looking human man. He stands at a height below six feet, wearing traveller's leathers and a light crossbow strapped to the side of his pack. He removes his hood to show thick, shaggy back hair; it is obvious that he hasn't groomed properly in a few days. He quickly checks his boots to ensure he isn't tracking any dirt into the building before looking to the others, also awaiting Margrave.
Upon hearing the dwarf's exclaim, he chuckles slightly. "Ease your temper, master dwarf. There is plenty of time, and one is always free to leave if they feel unwelcome." He unloads his pack from his shoulders and places it beside him. "It wouldn't be proper to be rude to our hosts, at least until they give us true reason to."
Shortly after the arrival of the adventurers who had answered to the Margrave's offer, a young looking half-elf cladded in red cloak with its color fading nonchalantly enters the office hugging a worn-out spellbook with both hands to his chest. His medium, wavy black hair is kept neatly to the side and his clothing under the red fading cloak shows a badge embalmed to the left side of his white, wrinkled shirt, suggesting that he's wearing some kind of school uniform. To the left side of his waist is a small scabbard with a shortsword fitted in while the right has a medium-sized satchel hung loosely from his left shoulder using a leather strap.
Standing at around 5"2', he literally looks up to the other people in the room that chose not to sit before diverting his attention to the dwarf pacing back and forth. He then gives out a loud sigh of frustration before dropping the spellbook onto the ground giving off a loud thump as a few loose pages fall out. "I just want to go home.." he says quietly while covering his face with both hands.
As the last figure enters the room Shadow finally detaches himself from the opposite wall of the hallway, looks up and down the corridor for anyone paying particular attention to this door and then silently enters the room. The people in the room see a black hooded monstrosity at 6'10" stride silently into the room to stand in a corner with his back against the wall opposite the entrance. They can see this creature is wearing darkened leather armor with a couple of daggers on his hips and crossbow strapped to his back. What is most unsettling is the piercing red eyes that stare out from the shadow of the hood. You can't quite make out any other detail but this is definitely not one of human stock.
A deep guttural voice speaks out, "Hail friends? Seems we are all interested in the same thing, money and adventure. I look forward to working with you lot."
"Right then, I must make this brief as I have other matters to tend to this afternoon," you hear suddenly as a man enters the room. He is human, of average height and build with well groomed short brown hair. He is wearing a full but formal cloak, and he doesn't lift his eyes from the stack of papers in his hands until he settles down in the chair behind his desk. When he finally looks up, you notice that he seems a bit younger than you may expect of someone in his position. He explains quickly but clearly,
"So here's what you need to know about the job. A few nights back, there were four gruesome murders performed in the Turst Fields. The victims were torn to shreds, it appeared to have been perpetrated by some sort of beast. Upon further investigation we determined it was carried out by a young woman named Shela who had been infected with the curse of Lycanthropy. She had no prior recollection of having this affliction, and my Shield Investigators were able to trace it back to a drug she ingested called suude. That was as far as they got and they are now needed elsewhere. I need you lot to find out how this happened and prevent it from happening again. Any questions?"
"Did the investigators have any thoughts or information on where this drug came from? And where might this Shela be now?" Shadow speaks from the corner.
"Suude is a growing problem in the Turst Fields that started over a month ago. As a farming community, the town imports everything besides food and wood so we assume the drug is being smuggled in with regular shipments of goods. We have not been able to narrow it down from there. As for where this specific batch or specific dose came from, I am not aware of any answer to that. Shela was immediately arrested when she turned herself in, and as far as I know can still be found in the town's jail. Once you get there find Elovar Banev, he is in charge of the Shields stationed there and will be better prepared to answer your questions."
Wilick listens to the information about the drug and the young lady. Lycanthropy, many people feared it, but the power of nature was a thing to behold. If only the afflicted were to retain their faculties when they were altered, it would be a blessing, not a curse.
"Well, as I see it we have two steps to take. First we need to talk to this young las, find out what she knows, and second, we need to get to Turst Fields and track down whoever is supplying suude. Do we go together? or do we take care of both at once? Personally, I'd rather not see the inside of a jail right now.
The young half-elf, who had already picked up his spellbook and is standing somewhere near the centre of the office, raises his hand slowly. "We could all agree to find Sir Elovar first to rid ourselves of any questions that we may have. From there on, I think that would be the best time for the group to decide to either split up or stay together."
"My apologies for any confusion, the young woman is in the jail of the Turst Fields. As the Margrave of Westruun the Turst Fields is one of many communities under my jurisdiction. Mr. Banev is in charge of my Shields stationed there but he still reports to me."
"I guess that makes it easy then. We go to Turst Fields."Wilick grabs his gear and starts to stand. With their destination known he sees no reason to delay any further.
"One last thing, what compensation do we get for," a hint of a sneer in his voice, "the Shield Investigators with a job they can't seem to accomplish?"
"Ah yes, of course. I am willing to offer 250 gold pieces to each individual who helps put this matter to rest, assuming sufficient evidence has been provided."
Evelyn's eyes widen a bit at the price but quickly composes herself again. Clearing her throat, she stands from her seat and nods graciously to the Margrave."That seems most reasonable. We should make haste and head off as soon as possible. Who knows how many others may be infected if we dally any longer?"
Wilick registers the amount of gold but doesn't comment on it. Gold like that had passed through his hands frequently in a former life, but as of late it was about living without; finding peace in the simple life. "I should probably mention Saraa. She will find us shortly after leaving town. So when you see a great golden cat strolling our way, please don't overreact. I won't stop her from defending herself."
Shadow lifts his left arm up and you see an extremely long muscled arm covered with greyish fur and a hand ending in claws remove the hood of his cloak. Then that same hand reaches out to grasp Zimmerset's hand engulfing it in a shake of agreement as the cloak gets brushed to the side. "Agreed, companion shall we be off." Then turning to Wilick, "I am interested to meet your golden cat, I have met many a cat before but not a golden one"
The half-elf, who had remained quiet and anonymous throughout the greetings and exchanges of the other people in the room clears his throat before speaking up. "I would like to apologise in advance if I'm going to be wasting anyone's time right now but Sir Brandon, I have no interest in gold. In exchange for accomplishing this task, could I ask for a simple favour instead? One that involves magic and..." he hesitates a bit before speaking, "portals to other dimensions perhaps? My name's Averet by the way. Averet Jury." He says before giving a light bow to the Margrave.
Through various means and with a variety of objectives, you have all found your way to a tavern called The Stately Ox Inn in the city of Westruun. In this tavern you found a posting that read:
"Calling skilled adventurers and investigators! A dangerous mystery is afoot in the Turst Fields. Due to a shortage of resources and a plethora of demands for those resources, the Margrave has decided to hire a group of individuals to pursue this mystery. Details on the issue and potential compensation will be provided to interested parties at the Margrave's office in the House of Reason at noon today."
Upon reading this, you all individually decided to at least hear about the offer, so you made your way to the House of Reason, located in The Opal Ward of the city. As you approach the building, you see a grand courthouse built in the High Elven style, displaying the grace and elegance their architecture is known for. At the base of the steps up to the courthouse is a marble statue of Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon. You ask the guard by the door and he directs you to the office of Margrave Brandon Zimmerset on the second floor of the courthouse. You are left there with a few others that seem to have also answered the posting. You find a chair to sit in before a large mahogany desk covered in scattered papers in the modest but well decorated office. It seems that the Margrave has yet to show up, and you don't know how long it'll be before he arrives.
(OOC: This is your chance to introduce your character to the others. I'd like everyone to describe what their character looks like to the rest, even if you want them to stay quiet for the moment. If you are confused about how your character got to Westruun, if you feel like your character wouldn't respond to this posting in this way, or if you have any other questions/concerns send me a PM!)
An angry old dwarf paces about the room muttering something about "Durned elves". His white hair and beard are luminous and full, everywhere except the top of his head, which is bald and equally luminous. A comically large lance rests upon his back over a suit of chain mail, diagonally so as to not scrape along the ground as he walks. The lance shows plenty of wear, but upon closer inspection, a trained fighter could recognize it is not for lack of care, but rather the age of a weapon forged long ago. At his waist is a warhammer and two handaxes.
Grumbling again, he paces all the way back to the oversized chair he was sitting in just a moment ago and sits for about five seconds before rising and pacing across the room once more. His eyes dart wildly over the others in the room as he passes them by. As he reaches the doorway, he stops and balls his fist. "Bah! Durned Margrave. I ain't for livin' the years he plans to make us wait! This is the fate of Grindal Goblinbane? To die waiting with not a dwarf in sight? Bah!" His shouting returns to grumbling something about "Durned mahogany".
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A pale skinned half elf with white hair tied in a loose braid sits with her back straight and her hands in her lap. Either she's incredibly nervous or a very serious person as she doesn't attempt to make contact with the others in the room and simply sits and waits patiently for the Margrave to arrive. She wears gold and steel scale mail armor with a mace attached to one side of her hip. On the other, a closed quiver and a crossbow hang. Around her neck is a short necklace with a symbol that resembles the sun and strapped to her back is a shield displaying the same symbol.
Wilick sat in the office accompanied by a few others who had also sought the opportunity to work for the Margrave. Under his furs and rough spun cloak the edges of scale mail armour peaked out. Two short swords hung from his belt while over his shoulder poked the top of a quiver and a long bow.
Wilick’s grey eyes scanned the room, a little wary of the others who sat with him. He looks out of place in the city, with his home-made clothes and rough-cut hair. He also seemed on edge like he didn’t want to be around people but didn’t have a choice. He looked down at his hands worn and weathered from years working in the gardens and hunting in the forest, and remembered a time we people might have considered him refined.
Weary from nights of unrest, he hoped that this meeting would not take too long. There was much he needed to do still, but if he was to make any progress he would need resources. That meant money. Which meant work
Arriving alongside the others is a slightly tired looking human man. He stands at a height below six feet, wearing traveller's leathers and a light crossbow strapped to the side of his pack. He removes his hood to show thick, shaggy back hair; it is obvious that he hasn't groomed properly in a few days. He quickly checks his boots to ensure he isn't tracking any dirt into the building before looking to the others, also awaiting Margrave.
Upon hearing the dwarf's exclaim, he chuckles slightly. "Ease your temper, master dwarf. There is plenty of time, and one is always free to leave if they feel unwelcome." He unloads his pack from his shoulders and places it beside him. "It wouldn't be proper to be rude to our hosts, at least until they give us true reason to."
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Shortly after the arrival of the adventurers who had answered to the Margrave's offer, a young looking half-elf cladded in red cloak with its color fading nonchalantly enters the office hugging a worn-out spellbook with both hands to his chest. His medium, wavy black hair is kept neatly to the side and his clothing under the red fading cloak shows a badge embalmed to the left side of his white, wrinkled shirt, suggesting that he's wearing some kind of school uniform. To the left side of his waist is a small scabbard with a shortsword fitted in while the right has a medium-sized satchel hung loosely from his left shoulder using a leather strap.
Standing at around 5"2', he literally looks up to the other people in the room that chose not to sit before diverting his attention to the dwarf pacing back and forth. He then gives out a loud sigh of frustration before dropping the spellbook onto the ground giving off a loud thump as a few loose pages fall out. "I just want to go home.." he says quietly while covering his face with both hands.
As the last figure enters the room Shadow finally detaches himself from the opposite wall of the hallway, looks up and down the corridor for anyone paying particular attention to this door and then silently enters the room. The people in the room see a black hooded monstrosity at 6'10" stride silently into the room to stand in a corner with his back against the wall opposite the entrance. They can see this creature is wearing darkened leather armor with a couple of daggers on his hips and crossbow strapped to his back. What is most unsettling is the piercing red eyes that stare out from the shadow of the hood. You can't quite make out any other detail but this is definitely not one of human stock.
A deep guttural voice speaks out, "Hail friends? Seems we are all interested in the same thing, money and adventure. I look forward to working with you lot."
"Right then, I must make this brief as I have other matters to tend to this afternoon," you hear suddenly as a man enters the room. He is human, of average height and build with well groomed short brown hair. He is wearing a full but formal cloak, and he doesn't lift his eyes from the stack of papers in his hands until he settles down in the chair behind his desk. When he finally looks up, you notice that he seems a bit younger than you may expect of someone in his position. He explains quickly but clearly,
"So here's what you need to know about the job. A few nights back, there were four gruesome murders performed in the Turst Fields. The victims were torn to shreds, it appeared to have been perpetrated by some sort of beast. Upon further investigation we determined it was carried out by a young woman named Shela who had been infected with the curse of Lycanthropy. She had no prior recollection of having this affliction, and my Shield Investigators were able to trace it back to a drug she ingested called suude. That was as far as they got and they are now needed elsewhere. I need you lot to find out how this happened and prevent it from happening again. Any questions?"
"Did the investigators have any thoughts or information on where this drug came from? And where might this Shela be now?" Shadow speaks from the corner.
"Suude is a growing problem in the Turst Fields that started over a month ago. As a farming community, the town imports everything besides food and wood so we assume the drug is being smuggled in with regular shipments of goods. We have not been able to narrow it down from there. As for where this specific batch or specific dose came from, I am not aware of any answer to that. Shela was immediately arrested when she turned herself in, and as far as I know can still be found in the town's jail. Once you get there find Elovar Banev, he is in charge of the Shields stationed there and will be better prepared to answer your questions."
Wilick listens to the information about the drug and the young lady. Lycanthropy, many people feared it, but the power of nature was a thing to behold. If only the afflicted were to retain their faculties when they were altered, it would be a blessing, not a curse.
"Well, as I see it we have two steps to take. First we need to talk to this young las, find out what she knows, and second, we need to get to Turst Fields and track down whoever is supplying suude. Do we go together? or do we take care of both at once? Personally, I'd rather not see the inside of a jail right now.
The young half-elf, who had already picked up his spellbook and is standing somewhere near the centre of the office, raises his hand slowly. "We could all agree to find Sir Elovar first to rid ourselves of any questions that we may have. From there on, I think that would be the best time for the group to decide to either split up or stay together."
"My apologies for any confusion, the young woman is in the jail of the Turst Fields. As the Margrave of Westruun the Turst Fields is one of many communities under my jurisdiction. Mr. Banev is in charge of my Shields stationed there but he still reports to me."
"I guess that makes it easy then. We go to Turst Fields." Wilick grabs his gear and starts to stand. With their destination known he sees no reason to delay any further.
"One last thing, what compensation do we get for," a hint of a sneer in his voice, "the Shield Investigators with a job they can't seem to accomplish?"
"Ah yes, of course. I am willing to offer 250 gold pieces to each individual who helps put this matter to rest, assuming sufficient evidence has been provided."
Evelyn's eyes widen a bit at the price but quickly composes herself again. Clearing her throat, she stands from her seat and nods graciously to the Margrave. "That seems most reasonable. We should make haste and head off as soon as possible. Who knows how many others may be infected if we dally any longer?"
Wilick registers the amount of gold but doesn't comment on it. Gold like that had passed through his hands frequently in a former life, but as of late it was about living without; finding peace in the simple life. "I should probably mention Saraa. She will find us shortly after leaving town. So when you see a great golden cat strolling our way, please don't overreact. I won't stop her from defending herself."
Shadow lifts his left arm up and you see an extremely long muscled arm covered with greyish fur and a hand ending in claws remove the hood of his cloak. Then that same hand reaches out to grasp Zimmerset's hand engulfing it in a shake of agreement as the cloak gets brushed to the side. "Agreed, companion shall we be off." Then turning to Wilick, "I am interested to meet your golden cat, I have met many a cat before but not a golden one"
The party catches a glimpse of shadow.
The half-elf, who had remained quiet and anonymous throughout the greetings and exchanges of the other people in the room clears his throat before speaking up. "I would like to apologise in advance if I'm going to be wasting anyone's time right now but Sir Brandon, I have no interest in gold. In exchange for accomplishing this task, could I ask for a simple favour instead? One that involves magic and..." he hesitates a bit before speaking, "portals to other dimensions perhaps? My name's Averet by the way. Averet Jury." He says before giving a light bow to the Margrave.