"Welcome, all you have answered the King's summons! Our lord has announced this event to decide which of you is fit to embark with our newly formed trade caravan out into the world! This is NOT a free trip, and you are expected to wok for passage and pay, guarding the caravan and it’s people, as well as foraging and labor. Any who do not wish to uphold this deal may leave now. As for the rest of you, the event will start shortly, feel free to mingle”
With these words, one of King Eudious’s aides drops down from a raised platform in the middle of the field in which you and 20 or so people have gathered. The field itself is fairly large, with gentle rolling hills and the usual cool southern breeze the kingdom receives, it’s location in the valley between mountains all but forcing the wind to always blow northward.
To the north-northwest you can see the farmsteads which subsist the kingdom, and further in the distance, the capital (and only) city of Wiegberge, the evening sun casting shadows on the city’s eastern side, like a dark relief. To the south and southeast lie The Entangle, woods which circle the valley, separating it from the mountains, filled with all manner of beast. Finally, To the southwest you see the Great Gate, the only (relatively) easy way out of the valley, its own shadows looming over the surrounding woods.
The field has a few crafts services tables set up, mostly ale and freshly caught game, and a number of tables set up to accommodate applicants. Behind the makeshift open-air tavern lie several wagons, covered in tarp and being moved and manned by guards and soldiers.
Feel free to introduce your characters and small talk! The game begins in earnest soon.
Sihnion listens attentively to the herald's proclamation. He is familiar with handling wagons and pack animals, as well as foraging and cooking. The expectation of such work does not seem unduly onerous. As for guard duties, between the King's men-at-arms a good campfire at night, he doesn't think there'll be much danger to the caravan.
His excitement at the prospect of travel to unknown lands is tempered by the certainty that he's only been put forward for the task to remove his presence from the Vale. Nevertheless, his grandfather had said he should go, and whilst the old dwarf still breathed then the Vale still had a true protector in the hearts and minds of its tiny populace.
"Might as well make the most of the fare", he thinks aloud, catching a whiff of roasting meat and following his nose to the source.
To save referring back to the application thread:
Name: Sihnion the Lesser Race: Hill Dwarf Class: Druid Background: Folk Hero
Once in every 3rd generation, a young dwarf is sent away from the Vale to be trained by a master. They take elven names and are schooled in taming the raw elemental magic. Whilst this arrangement does not sit favourably with the current Lord Protector of the Vale, the presence of a wielder of magics is popular with the common folk who look to him as their true protector.
Fore-a-ging? He thinks to himself; while he stowed his gear. O yes, food gathering...
Everything the King's Man said about what they were expected to do was very much like what he did for the woodsmen and the miners.
The food smelled real good, however he eyed the tables first, looking to see if any of the tables had weapons for last minute purchase.... after all, a good quarterstaff might come in handy on a trip, and can always double as a walking stick...
Grim (a moniker he was given by others in the trade) is a tall, muscular Tiefling with dark brown skin and silver eyes having no irises. His horns are thick ram’s horns, and his hair is medium length, dark curls. He wears leather armor comfortably and the morningstar at his hip looks like it’s seen use. His shield is a battered, second rate piece, and a longbow which looks like it might be stolen military surplus.
Atallia looked around during the announcement. Surely herding people would be easier than sheep. She wondered what sort of hurdles she’d need to get through to get this job.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Liarin: Against the Cult of the Reptile God Adewild: Shadows and Light 2 Brother Thaddeus: Rime of the Frostmaiden.
Sihnion observes a Half-Orc, dressed in typical huntsman's garb, picking up his pack and heading for the tables. It crosses his mind that back in the isolation of the Vale, the sight of such a half-caste would have the men reaching for their pitchforks, afraid for their sheep. "It doesn't take much to ignite fear and prejudice", he reflects.
A female Protector Aasimar looks among the crowd. She has silver hair and eyes, pale skin, and a shining longsword attached to her belt.
Thasla gazes toward the setting sun and bows her head, whispering a prayer to her deity, Lathander (the morninglord) before returning to the crowd. She waves as a friendly gesture to anyone she passes. Eventually she notices the tiefling (Grim) and attempts to strike up a conversation.
The dwarf's eyes widen at the strangers congregating in the field, some of whom look even less like humans than the Half Orc. Many seem to have weapons at their sides or on their backs and some wear scarred armour. "Wonder if I'm even expected back" he mutters to himself, reappraising his earlier judgement of the danger. He hefts his staff and checks the dagger at his belt, slipping into Dwarven "Never needed nothin' more'n this before, won't be needin' no swords an' shinin' armour now."
He approaches a tall lady in travellers' clothes rather than armour, "Hello. I guess there's a lot o' folks spoiling for afight. The name's Sihnion. Sihnion the Lesser, to be precise, since my grandfather has yet to shuffle off this mortal coil". Belatedly he notices the short sword she carries.
"BY THE GODS!" A hooded gnome bellows after splashing his masked face with water he got from a service table. "This is the greatest water! Fit for a warrior!"
Tamoda hefts his new quarterstaff, pleased with himself for negotiating the price down to 5 silver, and looks over the a - a sem - er all the other folk, glad to see all different sorts. On his way to the food table he walks past a dwarf with a staff and dagger. Stopping and kneeling, he gives the dwarf a formal bow and introduces himself in the language of Dwarves - I greet you, Master Dwarf. I am the hunter Tamoda. I know the ways of the forests and the mountains and the animals. Might I seek knowledge from you of the ways of the spirits?
"Yer well met, Hunter Tamoda. I nae expected ta hear tha Dwarven tongue here, least of all from an outsider", Sihnion switches to the Common tongue, "If you are truly ready for great wisdom, I shall pass on what my grandfather told me". Wearing his most serious face he whispers, "You're holding your staff the wrong way up".
Proud with his attempt at social humour, he beams at Tamoda.
Tamoda laughs out loud. Thank you, Master, for your wisdom, he says in Common. Pulling out some chalk he marks an x on the end indicated by the holy dwarf. That will do for now, I am thinking, I can get something that will last longer later. And now, my turn - never underestimate a gnome, for they are small, and nimble, and very quick thinking on their feet. :)
"Welcome, all you have answered the King's summons! Our lord has announced this event to decide which of you is fit to embark with our newly formed trade caravan out into the world! This is NOT a free trip, and you are expected to wok for passage and pay, guarding the caravan and it’s people, as well as foraging and labor. Any who do not wish to uphold this deal may leave now. As for the rest of you, the event will start shortly, feel free to mingle”
With these words, one of King Eudious’s aides drops down from a raised platform in the middle of the field in which you and 20 or so people have gathered. The field itself is fairly large, with gentle rolling hills and the usual cool southern breeze the kingdom receives, it’s location in the valley between mountains all but forcing the wind to always blow northward.
To the north-northwest you can see the farmsteads which subsist the kingdom, and further in the distance, the capital (and only) city of Wiegberge, the evening sun casting shadows on the city’s eastern side, like a dark relief. To the south and southeast lie The Entangle, woods which circle the valley, separating it from the mountains, filled with all manner of beast. Finally, To the southwest you see the Great Gate, the only (relatively) easy way out of the valley, its own shadows looming over the surrounding woods.
The field has a few crafts services tables set up, mostly ale and freshly caught game, and a number of tables set up to accommodate applicants. Behind the makeshift open-air tavern lie several wagons, covered in tarp and being moved and manned by guards and soldiers.
Feel free to introduce your characters and small talk! The game begins in earnest soon.
Sihnion listens attentively to the herald's proclamation. He is familiar with handling wagons and pack animals, as well as foraging and cooking. The expectation of such work does not seem unduly onerous. As for guard duties, between the King's men-at-arms a good campfire at night, he doesn't think there'll be much danger to the caravan.
His excitement at the prospect of travel to unknown lands is tempered by the certainty that he's only been put forward for the task to remove his presence from the Vale. Nevertheless, his grandfather had said he should go, and whilst the old dwarf still breathed then the Vale still had a true protector in the hearts and minds of its tiny populace.
"Might as well make the most of the fare", he thinks aloud, catching a whiff of roasting meat and following his nose to the source.
To save referring back to the application thread:
Race: Hill Dwarf
Class: Druid
Background: Folk Hero
Tamoda the Hunter -
Fore-a-ging? He thinks to himself; while he stowed his gear. O yes, food gathering...
Everything the King's Man said about what they were expected to do was very much like what he did for the woodsmen and the miners.
The food smelled real good, however he eyed the tables first, looking to see if any of the tables had weapons for last minute purchase.... after all, a good quarterstaff might come in handy on a trip, and can always double as a walking stick...
Grim is eyeing his competition.
Grim (a moniker he was given by others in the trade) is a tall, muscular Tiefling with dark brown skin and silver eyes having no irises. His horns are thick ram’s horns, and his hair is medium length, dark curls. He wears leather armor comfortably and the morningstar at his hip looks like it’s seen use. His shield is a battered, second rate piece, and a longbow which looks like it might be stolen military surplus.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Atallia looked around during the announcement. Surely herding people would be easier than sheep. She wondered what sort of hurdles she’d need to get through to get this job.
Liarin: Against the Cult of the Reptile God
Adewild: Shadows and Light 2
Brother Thaddeus: Rime of the Frostmaiden.
Sihnion observes a Half-Orc, dressed in typical huntsman's garb, picking up his pack and heading for the tables. It crosses his mind that back in the isolation of the Vale, the sight of such a half-caste would have the men reaching for their pitchforks, afraid for their sheep. "It doesn't take much to ignite fear and prejudice", he reflects.
A female Protector Aasimar looks among the crowd. She has silver hair and eyes, pale skin, and a shining longsword attached to her belt.
Thasla gazes toward the setting sun and bows her head, whispering a prayer to her deity, Lathander (the morninglord) before returning to the crowd. She waves as a friendly gesture to anyone she passes. Eventually she notices the tiefling (Grim) and attempts to strike up a conversation.
”Hello. I am Thasla Rossir. What is your name?”
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
The dwarf's eyes widen at the strangers congregating in the field, some of whom look even less like humans than the Half Orc. Many seem to have weapons at their sides or on their backs and some wear scarred armour. "Wonder if I'm even expected back" he mutters to himself, reappraising his earlier judgement of the danger. He hefts his staff and checks the dagger at his belt, slipping into Dwarven "Never needed nothin' more'n this before, won't be needin' no swords an' shinin' armour now."
He approaches a tall lady in travellers' clothes rather than armour, "Hello. I guess there's a lot o' folks spoiling for a fight. The name's Sihnion. Sihnion the Lesser, to be precise, since my grandfather has yet to shuffle off this mortal coil". Belatedly he notices the short sword she carries.
“I’m never spoiling for a fight. Too much trouble. Unfortunately I’ve wound up in enough I like to keep an edge rather than make do with my hands@
Liarin: Against the Cult of the Reptile God
Adewild: Shadows and Light 2
Brother Thaddeus: Rime of the Frostmaiden.
Grim gives Thasla a glance, then a second glance and tiniest of smiles. “Grim. You here to win?”
Paladin - warforged - orange
"BY THE GODS!" A hooded gnome bellows after splashing his masked face with water he got from a service table. "This is the greatest water! Fit for a warrior!"
Pointing out the ebullient Gnome, Sihnion chuckles "At least I won't be the butt of all the short jokes."
Thasla smiles.
”Naturally. But there is much excitement to be had in adventuring for its own sake, regardless of what you find. It’s nice to meet you, Grim.”
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
Tamoda hefts his new quarterstaff, pleased with himself for negotiating the price down to 5 silver, and looks over the a - a sem - er all the other folk, glad to see all different sorts. On his way to the food table he walks past a dwarf with a staff and dagger. Stopping and kneeling, he gives the dwarf a formal bow and introduces himself in the language of Dwarves - I greet you, Master Dwarf. I am the hunter Tamoda. I know the ways of the forests and the mountains and the animals. Might I seek knowledge from you of the ways of the spirits?
"Yer well met, Hunter Tamoda. I nae expected ta hear tha Dwarven tongue here, least of all from an outsider", Sihnion switches to the Common tongue, "If you are truly ready for great wisdom, I shall pass on what my grandfather told me". Wearing his most serious face he whispers, "You're holding your staff the wrong way up".
Proud with his attempt at social humour, he beams at Tamoda.
Grim just stares at her blankly before saying dryly “you know we might end up trying to beat each other senseless, right?”
Paladin - warforged - orange
"May the greatest warrior be cast in the hall of LEGENDS!" The gnome bellows.
Tamoda laughs out loud. Thank you, Master, for your wisdom, he says in Common. Pulling out some chalk he marks an x on the end indicated by the holy dwarf. That will do for now, I am thinking, I can get something that will last longer later. And now, my turn - never underestimate a gnome, for they are small, and nimble, and very quick thinking on their feet. :)
”Probably so.” Thasla says, still with a slight smile. “All the same, I am looking forward to this. I wish you luck.”
Aruzhal - Lv 1 Tempest Cleric - Planescape: Lost
Grim looks a little taken aback. “Uh... yeah. Well, I can’t wish you luck, but I can hope we don’t have to compete with each other.”
Paladin - warforged - orange