BEGIN MONDAY THE 24TH LEVEL ONE CHALLENGE - THE INTRODUCTIONS
EPISODE ONE: "HITHER COMES THE DARKNESS"
LOCATION: RIVERMOUTH INN, DRIFTCHAPEL
THE SITUATION:The Five Dominions are all that remain of a once great kingdom. At the height of its power, the Crown and the Creed led humanity in the Black Crusades and drove the twisted elves and dwarves to near extinction. As a result, the ancient wards that held an Elder horror at bay were shattered, and the Darkness seeped into the realm. Now, more than a century later, the Crown commands a mere quarter of the land, resources, and citizens it once did. Where once stood more than a dozen dominions, now only five remains, ruled over by a desperate and opportunistic regents who squabble and scrape over scant resources and dwindling land.
Still, there is fortune and glory to be had across this doomed realm for adventurers dogged enough to venture beyond the crumbling walls of humanity. Frontier settlements cry for help as the Darkness encroaches, twisted horror stalk the dense wilds, and forbidden knowledge and lost treasures wait in countless ruins. Our adventure begins with the Passages of Revenants, describing the tales of those brave enough to shape a fortune and fate of their own in a time, and land, of Darkness.
THE MECHANICS: You all begin, or arrive, at the Rivermouth inn in Driftchapel. Whether here to stop the Darkness, or not, here you are. This town is ripe with Darkness. Whatever your intention, you can't do it alone. Interact with three of your fellow comrades. Why are you here? Are you here to stop the Darkness, or to become one with it? Introduce yourself and mingle with the others you find yourselves sharing company with tonight during this grim time. Do they share your views, or are they completely different? Someone needs to stem the tide of Darkness in Driftchapel. Will that be you, or will you assist it?
Villanelle decided that it was time to get herself breakfast. Her day had actually started hours ago, earlier this morning when she killed that man for sticking his nose where he shouldn't. But now it was time for her to get something to eat and the Rivermouth Inn was as good as any place to get a meal. She was looking for a place to seat herself when she saw a face that looked reasonably familiar.
Von Schmiggleton. What are you doing here? She thought.
Like Villanelle, Von Schmiggleton was a Dawnhammer, but the two of them were never really close. But given how many Dawnhammers had died, the ones that remained tended to remember each other. And if some random peasant could see the scratched out sigil, then so could a former Dawnhammer. And a former Dawnhammer could make her life difficult, if they were one of the idiots who didn't know when to quit. So Villanelle walked over to where she was seated, to speak with her. Figure out what she was doing here and if Von Schmiggleton needed to go for a little swim as well.
"Von Schmiggleton. What brings you here?"
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Exelda woke up feeling rigid and brittle. She'd groan as she stretched, hearing her limbs crack and pop along the way. Exhaling as she sat up, El will roll her shoulders and crack her neck. Years of battle and abuse on her body is really taking its toll this morning. Maybe a storms coming. Exelda didn't want to think much of it and decided to get out for some air and for a stretch.
This place was a maze with it's crisscrossing streets and winding streets. There's always this persistent fog. Exelda would walk wherever her feet would take her, familiarizing herself with the area. She could hear some drunken merriment as she'd round the corner. A man stumbles out of an establishment and vomits over a railing. El would scrunch her nose and turn her face away. She'd spot the sign of the Rivermouth Inn and shrug. Nothing like the sound of vomiting to make one hungry for breakfast... and she would enter the establishment.
Emma woke up earlier than usual - she wanted to do something, she planned for sometime now and today was a perfect day to make it happen. Uncle George did not feel well (it happened a lot lately and began to truly worry her) so, she was suppose to open the shop. She was going to, despite her full confidence, that no one was going to come and buy something, but first - the weapon. Whatever was happening with her, whatever strange "powers" manifested itself (usually in the most inappropriate moments) - she did not truly understand it and was not sure can truly use. Newly popular flintlocks was another matter. She heard talks about it, saw dead monsters and destroyed armor. And she wanted one of this fire-spitting weapons for herself.
Emma knew the house - everyone in the town did - but never met the owner before. The name sounded somewhat foreign, still, the man worked in the town enough time to be counted "local". At the time appropriate for an early visit, she knocked at the door and greeted the person, that opened it: "Good morning. May I see Mr. Vulcan Ravensteel? I would like to talk about ordering a weapon."
He had been planning this day for such a long time. Spent days praying, organizing, casting rituals, the whole works, just for this very day. The Profane Chapel, once a grounds to worship some failure of a sea goddess, was now rebuilt, reborn into the Temple of Umbra by his very hands and the priest gazed upon his work one final time prior to heading out. It would be the perfect trap to the desperate and unsuspecting, now all he needed to do was find a group of people to unknowingly help him.
The inn would be a good place to start, he thinks, and after adjusting his collar, he heads there with a bible in hand and a eery smile plastered onto his face, giving waves to the townsfolk had he seen any on his way. A few would know him as a kind and gentle man, wanting nothing more than to spread the good word of his God to others in the area, and with his chapel completed, it would be easier to gather some 'recruits'.
He would enter the inn right after some white haired(?) lass, flashing her a smile if she looked back at him, and sat himself at the corner of the bar to get a better overview of the establishment and its patrons so far, taking note of each one that was there.
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Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
There were shadows over the town of Driftchapel. Not just any shadow. Something terrible from beyond.
In the darkness, along the battered road that led to Rivermouth Inn, a lone woman walked with a casual purpose. There had always been talk of the Elder Gods, but to feel one's influence so close to home was unnerving. The end of the world just didn't sit right with Madison Von Schmiggleton. The Von Schmiggleton line was a long one of hunters, inquisitors, and soldiers that served the Crown. Melissa was no different. The Von Schmiggletons, in some shape or form, was a proud family that fought evil on many fronts, so when she discharged from the Dawnhammers, it was a personal blow.
After everything we've done? Fine.
So here I am. Rivermouth Inn. Yup. This is the place. She pushed open the creaky door and walked inside. Von Schmiggleton was a woman about 28 years old. Short dark brown hair that came down to her jaw with blue eyes that scanned the Inn. She wore a long coat that came down to her boots along with tight form fitting leather armor. Strapped to her side thighs were two black powder pistols heralding from a time when she drove the elves and dwarves from this forsaken lan-
What the ****? A familiar face said her name. She turned. Another Dawnhammer. Two relics in a meeting destined in the stars. Sure.
"Villanelle."she replied in an english accent, approaching her. There was an aura of curiosity, but she knew enough about this one, this..Villanelle. "Fancy meeting you here."Von Schmiggleton looked around. Quite a strange crowd was drawn this night. She turned back to Villanelle. "It's been a while. What brings you to this shit hole?"
Vulcan Ravensteel's day had started before the sun had come up....if it had come up. Cloud cover made it hard to tell. Still, his hammer was what woke the rooster. The hammering of steel, and ignition of flame, the black smoke from his chimneys. He was far from perfection and only slept as much as he needed, no more. Still, he knew he would begin to slow down. To tire. He would die one day, and if he had not reach perfection before then, all his creations, all the knowledge of his forbearers, would disappear....this could not be.
Today he had steeled himself, hammered it into his own mind, that he would close shop for a while to go in search of something. An heir? A child? Who knew. Still, that was for later, for now, he had his forge....until someone knocked on his door. He had almost missed it. They had knocked between the strokes of his hammering, and he dropped the bar into a bucket, it was ruined along with his focus, but he didn't care. Walking over to open the door, he swings it open, pushing Emma back in its berth. Covered in a layer of soot and dirt, face hidden behind a mangle of long bangs, barely held back by a lazily done piece of string, the piecing green eyes of the man stare down at the girl before him before speaking in a gruff, disinterested tone, " Come v'ith me." His accent is thick and not at all hidden. (german accent) And he starts walking towards the inn, not caring if the woman followed him. He was hungry, and he learned a long time ago that he was a terrible cook. The inn would have food.
Upon entering the establishment, the woman from his shop behind him or not, he would head to the bar and order 2 mugs of water and a plate of food. As he waits for his food, he casts a scanning glare to the rest of the room, noting the newer face, and those armed, before turning back to his own mug of water, which he took one of and threw at his own face, using it to wipe off some of the grim and soot from his body.
"It's a small town. Out of the way, fewer problems for me to deal with. Mind if I sit down?" As Villanelle waits for a response from Melissa, she looks around the bar and gives a little wave to the priestly looking man when he smiles. Villanelle always had a little bit of divine power when she was a Dawnhammer, which at the time meant to her that the Creed was more than just words and that what she was doing was right. But she still had that small bit of power now, after she had broken her oath, which to her meant that the gods either didn't exist, or they didn't care about the Creed. Perhaps the gods had given her power for a different reason than fighting for a dead order and a dying nation. Maybe the priest might have some answers.
But that could wait until she was finished with Von Schmiggleton.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Freya was in the middle of relieving a grieving widow, slumped over with tears flowing down onto the gravestone of her newly departed husband, of her mink coat, casually draped over a nearby gravestone, when she sneezed and disapperated again, Gods knows where to this time.
"What is happening to me?! Why me?!"
Opening her eyes, she notices that she's still in town....but somehow teleported a league away. Glancing up, she notices a sign swinging lazily from atop the doorway..."Rivermouth Inn" she mumbles to herself. "Shithole."
Continuing, she mumbles to herself "Well, lets see if anyone inside is willing to make a donation to....the cause....my cause!"
Stealthy as a mouse, she enters the Inn, and looks over the gathering crowd. Noticing the creepy priest in the corner with his goofy grin, she straightens up, and proudly marches over and pulls up a seat immediately next to him. "What brings you here today, Father? Lookin' for more.......converts?" she says with a knowing chuckle.
Von Schmiggleton made a casual gesture at the chair next to her, soundlessly indicating that she didn't mind. She waited for Villanelle to sit and stared at her for a few moments, looking her over, before she spoke to her again. "Do the Gods favor you still? Perhaps they do, perhaps not. Still. Regardless, it is good to see another of the Order, even though the Crown no longer recognizes us. Even less - the people we once protected."She followed Villanelle's eyes to the pious man in the corner. He seemed..dark..for a holy man. Her gaze returned to Villanelle. "Can I buy you a drink? Surely that's one thing you haven't given up on."
"To be honest, I'm not sure about the gods. Maybe that holy man over there has some answers." She says, gesturing at the holy man. She clearly didn't seem too bothered by his seeming darkness, but the world was growing dark, one mans darkness wasn't anything to fret over. "Perhaps it's not such a bad thing to not be recognized by anyone. After all, people recognize you as a Dawnhammer, they want you to solve all their problems for them, like I'm not trying to lay low and stay alive. And yeah, I'll have a drink, thanks for the offer."
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Madison waved over a gaunt looking server. "Two ales."she said. He was back momentarily and she took a deep swig. It was the worst ale she had ever tasted. Madison threw back her head and tipped the entire contents of the stein into her mouth. It vanished as fast as a gold purse dropped in a street of beggars. "Another flagon of this dog piss!" she called out. "And try not to deafen us out with the sound of your mirth!"she yelled over her shoulder to the rest of the patrons. "Gods, this place is awful. Something dark is here in Driftchapel. I can feel it." she mentioned to Villanelle.
Vulcan casts a glare at the newcomer who shouted at the room, but opts to keep his mouth and weapons to himself. Words were words, only as meaningful as you made them to be....that said, it was still annoying.
If Emma was surprised she did not show it and patiently followed the strange man to the Inn. She hoped the smith will show you a couple ... pistols it's called? ... suggest something and she will be on her way before shop's opening, but he obviously had other plans and unceremoniously locked the door in front of her. Foreigners.
She did not order anything in the Inn, of course, and just waited until Vulcan Ravensteel was done choosing his meal. Then gave half-caught to attract his attention and asked again: "About that weapon... Would it be possible for me to buy some from you? Something small and simple?"
Once in the establishment, Exelda would pull off the hood from her leather jacket, revealing platinum like blood hair. She’d look over her shoulder to take a look at the man that followed in behind her. She’d give a nod of her head in greeting to the holy man as he strolls over to his table. Scanning the rest of the room, the blonde would meet eyes with two women sitting at a table together. Exelda would flash the pair a charming smile, revealing a single dimple on her right cheek, and a wink before striding off to the bar.
Noticing a soot covered man with a young brighteyed maiden, “Excusez.” She’d say politely with the same smile as she slips on by them to take a seat at the bar.
Busy place. Exelda would try to flag down the bartender just as one of the women at the table begins to shout. As a natural reaction, she would look over her shoulder back to the woman. The English. So rude. Just before LeBlanc was going to turn back around, she gets a sudden flashback to her younger days with the Crown. The Creed? Non. C’est impossible. Les Dawnhammer? Ici? Her eyes would study the women again before turning back to the barkeep to place an order for breakfast and some water. Dog piss didn’t sound appealing this morning.
Father took note of the two women conversing at the table (giving them a wave and a smile when they both looked over to him), and the man covered in soot with a more meeker looking lady across from him. But his attention was soon diverted to the lady who, quite boldly, sat up right next to him and began conversation, his eyebrow twitching in irritation at her words.
“I’m unsure if you are trying to insinuate something, my dear,” He begins, giving her a side glance while taking a moment to order a mug of water for himself and whatever she wanted if she wanted anything. “But I’m simply looking for capable help...” He turns to her fully with a gentle smile, the air about him heavy. “While I’m sure you’re more than just a pretty face, I feel as if you are capable of... something more. Tell me, love, would you be willing to help me?”
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Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
Villanelle is slower as she drinks her ale, not entirely gulping it down like Madison does. And she doesn't shout either. "Darkness is falling over the entire continent. The Crown controls barely a third of the land it used to. I don't know if you're trying to recruit me for something, but you should know that I didn't come to this village to continue the fight. I came here because I was finished with the Order."
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Vulcan glanced at the woman who sat beside them and returned his attention to Emma as she inquired about his wares, "I assume you speak of my pistols....sure, simple enough. However, it'll be a while until I can get it for you. Recently sold my stock and am about to go out on a venture." He takes a bite out of his meal before continuing, "That said, how much you willing to pay?"
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THE CAMPAIGN BEGINS MONDAY FEBRUARY 24
BEGIN MONDAY THE 24TH
LEVEL ONE CHALLENGE - THE INTRODUCTIONS
EPISODE ONE: "HITHER COMES THE DARKNESS"
LOCATION: RIVERMOUTH INN, DRIFTCHAPEL
THE SITUATION: The Five Dominions are all that remain of a once great kingdom. At the height of its power, the Crown and the Creed led humanity in the Black Crusades and drove the twisted elves and dwarves to near extinction. As a result, the ancient wards that held an Elder horror at bay were shattered, and the Darkness seeped into the realm. Now, more than a century later, the Crown commands a mere quarter of the land, resources, and citizens it once did. Where once stood more than a dozen dominions, now only five remains, ruled over by a desperate and opportunistic regents who squabble and scrape over scant resources and dwindling land.
Still, there is fortune and glory to be had across this doomed realm for adventurers dogged enough to venture beyond the crumbling walls of humanity. Frontier settlements cry for help as the Darkness encroaches, twisted horror stalk the dense wilds, and forbidden knowledge and lost treasures wait in countless ruins. Our adventure begins with the Passages of Revenants, describing the tales of those brave enough to shape a fortune and fate of their own in a time, and land, of Darkness.
THE MECHANICS: You all begin, or arrive, at the Rivermouth inn in Driftchapel. Whether here to stop the Darkness, or not, here you are. This town is ripe with Darkness. Whatever your intention, you can't do it alone. Interact with three of your fellow comrades. Why are you here? Are you here to stop the Darkness, or to become one with it? Introduce yourself and mingle with the others you find yourselves sharing company with tonight during this grim time. Do they share your views, or are they completely different? Someone needs to stem the tide of Darkness in Driftchapel. Will that be you, or will you assist it?
THE REWARD: Advance to Level 2.
Villanelle decided that it was time to get herself breakfast. Her day had actually started hours ago, earlier this morning when she killed that man for sticking his nose where he shouldn't. But now it was time for her to get something to eat and the Rivermouth Inn was as good as any place to get a meal. She was looking for a place to seat herself when she saw a face that looked reasonably familiar.
Von Schmiggleton. What are you doing here? She thought.
Like Villanelle, Von Schmiggleton was a Dawnhammer, but the two of them were never really close. But given how many Dawnhammers had died, the ones that remained tended to remember each other. And if some random peasant could see the scratched out sigil, then so could a former Dawnhammer. And a former Dawnhammer could make her life difficult, if they were one of the idiots who didn't know when to quit. So Villanelle walked over to where she was seated, to speak with her. Figure out what she was doing here and if Von Schmiggleton needed to go for a little swim as well.
"Von Schmiggleton. What brings you here?"
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Exelda woke up feeling rigid and brittle. She'd groan as she stretched, hearing her limbs crack and pop along the way. Exhaling as she sat up, El will roll her shoulders and crack her neck. Years of battle and abuse on her body is really taking its toll this morning. Maybe a storms coming. Exelda didn't want to think much of it and decided to get out for some air and for a stretch.
This place was a maze with it's crisscrossing streets and winding streets. There's always this persistent fog. Exelda would walk wherever her feet would take her, familiarizing herself with the area. She could hear some drunken merriment as she'd round the corner. A man stumbles out of an establishment and vomits over a railing. El would scrunch her nose and turn her face away. She'd spot the sign of the Rivermouth Inn and shrug. Nothing like the sound of vomiting to make one hungry for breakfast... and she would enter the establishment.
just an unstable unicorn.
Emma woke up earlier than usual - she wanted to do something, she planned for sometime now and today was a perfect day to make it happen. Uncle George did not feel well (it happened a lot lately and began to truly worry her) so, she was suppose to open the shop. She was going to, despite her full confidence, that no one was going to come and buy something, but first - the weapon. Whatever was happening with her, whatever strange "powers" manifested itself (usually in the most inappropriate moments) - she did not truly understand it and was not sure can truly use. Newly popular flintlocks was another matter. She heard talks about it, saw dead monsters and destroyed armor. And she wanted one of this fire-spitting weapons for herself.
Emma knew the house - everyone in the town did - but never met the owner before. The name sounded somewhat foreign, still, the man worked in the town enough time to be counted "local". At the time appropriate for an early visit, she knocked at the door and greeted the person, that opened it: "Good morning. May I see Mr. Vulcan Ravensteel? I would like to talk about ordering a weapon."
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
He had been planning this day for such a long time. Spent days praying, organizing, casting rituals, the whole works, just for this very day. The Profane Chapel, once a grounds to worship some failure of a sea goddess, was now rebuilt, reborn into the Temple of Umbra by his very hands and the priest gazed upon his work one final time prior to heading out. It would be the perfect trap to the desperate and unsuspecting, now all he needed to do was find a group of people to unknowingly help him.
The inn would be a good place to start, he thinks, and after adjusting his collar, he heads there with a bible in hand and a eery smile plastered onto his face, giving waves to the townsfolk had he seen any on his way. A few would know him as a kind and gentle man, wanting nothing more than to spread the good word of his God to others in the area, and with his chapel completed, it would be easier to gather some 'recruits'.
He would enter the inn right after some white haired(?) lass, flashing her a smile if she looked back at him, and sat himself at the corner of the bar to get a better overview of the establishment and its patrons so far, taking note of each one that was there.
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
There were shadows over the town of Driftchapel. Not just any shadow. Something terrible from beyond.
In the darkness, along the battered road that led to Rivermouth Inn, a lone woman walked with a casual purpose. There had always been talk of the Elder Gods, but to feel one's influence so close to home was unnerving. The end of the world just didn't sit right with Madison Von Schmiggleton. The Von Schmiggleton line was a long one of hunters, inquisitors, and soldiers that served the Crown. Melissa was no different. The Von Schmiggletons, in some shape or form, was a proud family that fought evil on many fronts, so when she discharged from the Dawnhammers, it was a personal blow.
After everything we've done? Fine.
So here I am. Rivermouth Inn. Yup. This is the place. She pushed open the creaky door and walked inside. Von Schmiggleton was a woman about 28 years old. Short dark brown hair that came down to her jaw with blue eyes that scanned the Inn. She wore a long coat that came down to her boots along with tight form fitting leather armor. Strapped to her side thighs were two black powder pistols heralding from a time when she drove the elves and dwarves from this forsaken lan-
What the ****? A familiar face said her name. She turned. Another Dawnhammer. Two relics in a meeting destined in the stars. Sure.
"Villanelle." she replied in an english accent, approaching her. There was an aura of curiosity, but she knew enough about this one, this..Villanelle. "Fancy meeting you here." Von Schmiggleton looked around. Quite a strange crowd was drawn this night. She turned back to Villanelle. "It's been a while. What brings you to this shit hole?"
Vulcan Ravensteel's day had started before the sun had come up....if it had come up. Cloud cover made it hard to tell. Still, his hammer was what woke the rooster. The hammering of steel, and ignition of flame, the black smoke from his chimneys. He was far from perfection and only slept as much as he needed, no more. Still, he knew he would begin to slow down. To tire. He would die one day, and if he had not reach perfection before then, all his creations, all the knowledge of his forbearers, would disappear....this could not be.
Today he had steeled himself, hammered it into his own mind, that he would close shop for a while to go in search of something. An heir? A child? Who knew. Still, that was for later, for now, he had his forge....until someone knocked on his door. He had almost missed it. They had knocked between the strokes of his hammering, and he dropped the bar into a bucket, it was ruined along with his focus, but he didn't care. Walking over to open the door, he swings it open, pushing Emma back in its berth. Covered in a layer of soot and dirt, face hidden behind a mangle of long bangs, barely held back by a lazily done piece of string, the piecing green eyes of the man stare down at the girl before him before speaking in a gruff, disinterested tone, " Come v'ith me." His accent is thick and not at all hidden. (german accent) And he starts walking towards the inn, not caring if the woman followed him. He was hungry, and he learned a long time ago that he was a terrible cook. The inn would have food.
Upon entering the establishment, the woman from his shop behind him or not, he would head to the bar and order 2 mugs of water and a plate of food. As he waits for his food, he casts a scanning glare to the rest of the room, noting the newer face, and those armed, before turning back to his own mug of water, which he took one of and threw at his own face, using it to wipe off some of the grim and soot from his body.
"It's a small town. Out of the way, fewer problems for me to deal with. Mind if I sit down?" As Villanelle waits for a response from Melissa, she looks around the bar and gives a little wave to the priestly looking man when he smiles. Villanelle always had a little bit of divine power when she was a Dawnhammer, which at the time meant to her that the Creed was more than just words and that what she was doing was right. But she still had that small bit of power now, after she had broken her oath, which to her meant that the gods either didn't exist, or they didn't care about the Creed. Perhaps the gods had given her power for a different reason than fighting for a dead order and a dying nation. Maybe the priest might have some answers.
But that could wait until she was finished with Von Schmiggleton.
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
<sneeze>
"Ahh shit, again?!"
Freya was in the middle of relieving a grieving widow, slumped over with tears flowing down onto the gravestone of her newly departed husband, of her mink coat, casually draped over a nearby gravestone, when she sneezed and disapperated again, Gods knows where to this time.
"What is happening to me?! Why me?!"
Opening her eyes, she notices that she's still in town....but somehow teleported a league away. Glancing up, she notices a sign swinging lazily from atop the doorway..."Rivermouth Inn" she mumbles to herself. "Shithole."
Continuing, she mumbles to herself "Well, lets see if anyone inside is willing to make a donation to....the cause....my cause!"
Stealthy as a mouse, she enters the Inn, and looks over the gathering crowd. Noticing the creepy priest in the corner with his goofy grin, she straightens up, and proudly marches over and pulls up a seat immediately next to him. "What brings you here today, Father? Lookin' for more.......converts?" she says with a knowing chuckle.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Von Schmiggleton made a casual gesture at the chair next to her, soundlessly indicating that she didn't mind. She waited for Villanelle to sit and stared at her for a few moments, looking her over, before she spoke to her again. "Do the Gods favor you still? Perhaps they do, perhaps not. Still. Regardless, it is good to see another of the Order, even though the Crown no longer recognizes us. Even less - the people we once protected." She followed Villanelle's eyes to the pious man in the corner. He seemed..dark..for a holy man. Her gaze returned to Villanelle. "Can I buy you a drink? Surely that's one thing you haven't given up on."
"To be honest, I'm not sure about the gods. Maybe that holy man over there has some answers." She says, gesturing at the holy man. She clearly didn't seem too bothered by his seeming darkness, but the world was growing dark, one mans darkness wasn't anything to fret over. "Perhaps it's not such a bad thing to not be recognized by anyone. After all, people recognize you as a Dawnhammer, they want you to solve all their problems for them, like I'm not trying to lay low and stay alive. And yeah, I'll have a drink, thanks for the offer."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Madison waved over a gaunt looking server. "Two ales." she said. He was back momentarily and she took a deep swig. It was the worst ale she had ever tasted. Madison threw back her head and tipped the entire contents of the stein into her mouth. It vanished as fast as a gold purse dropped in a street of beggars. "Another flagon of this dog piss!" she called out. "And try not to deafen us out with the sound of your mirth!" she yelled over her shoulder to the rest of the patrons. "Gods, this place is awful. Something dark is here in Driftchapel. I can feel it." she mentioned to Villanelle.
Vulcan casts a glare at the newcomer who shouted at the room, but opts to keep his mouth and weapons to himself. Words were words, only as meaningful as you made them to be....that said, it was still annoying.
If Emma was surprised she did not show it and patiently followed the strange man to the Inn. She hoped the smith will show you a couple ... pistols it's called? ... suggest something and she will be on her way before shop's opening, but he obviously had other plans and unceremoniously locked the door in front of her. Foreigners.
She did not order anything in the Inn, of course, and just waited until Vulcan Ravensteel was done choosing his meal. Then gave half-caught to attract his attention and asked again: "About that weapon... Would it be possible for me to buy some from you? Something small and simple?"
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Freya continues to Father: "Lotsa sheep in here for you, Father...sheep that need....tendin'. Think you're up to the challenge?"
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Once in the establishment, Exelda would pull off the hood from her leather jacket, revealing platinum like blood hair. She’d look over her shoulder to take a look at the man that followed in behind her. She’d give a nod of her head in greeting to the holy man as he strolls over to his table. Scanning the rest of the room, the blonde would meet eyes with two women sitting at a table together. Exelda would flash the pair a charming smile, revealing a single dimple on her right cheek, and a wink before striding off to the bar.
Noticing a soot covered man with a young brighteyed maiden, “Excusez.” She’d say politely with the same smile as she slips on by them to take a seat at the bar.
Busy place. Exelda would try to flag down the bartender just as one of the women at the table begins to shout. As a natural reaction, she would look over her shoulder back to the woman. The English. So rude. Just before LeBlanc was going to turn back around, she gets a sudden flashback to her younger days with the Crown. The Creed? Non. C’est impossible. Les Dawnhammer? Ici? Her eyes would study the women again before turning back to the barkeep to place an order for breakfast and some water. Dog piss didn’t sound appealing this morning.
just an unstable unicorn.
Father took note of the two women conversing at the table (giving them a wave and a smile when they both looked over to him), and the man covered in soot with a more meeker looking lady across from him. But his attention was soon diverted to the lady who, quite boldly, sat up right next to him and began conversation, his eyebrow twitching in irritation at her words.
“I’m unsure if you are trying to insinuate something, my dear,” He begins, giving her a side glance while taking a moment to order a mug of water for himself and whatever she wanted if she wanted anything. “But I’m simply looking for capable help...” He turns to her fully with a gentle smile, the air about him heavy. “While I’m sure you’re more than just a pretty face, I feel as if you are capable of... something more. Tell me, love, would you be willing to help me?”
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
Villanelle is slower as she drinks her ale, not entirely gulping it down like Madison does. And she doesn't shout either. "Darkness is falling over the entire continent. The Crown controls barely a third of the land it used to. I don't know if you're trying to recruit me for something, but you should know that I didn't come to this village to continue the fight. I came here because I was finished with the Order."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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Vulcan glanced at the woman who sat beside them and returned his attention to Emma as she inquired about his wares, "I assume you speak of my pistols....sure, simple enough. However, it'll be a while until I can get it for you. Recently sold my stock and am about to go out on a venture." He takes a bite out of his meal before continuing, "That said, how much you willing to pay?"