"To a party of seasoned adventurers such as yourselves, what you see is another dull tavern in some nameless province. It is but another span of time between the challenges of adventuring. Outside the tavern, a fog lies over the town this evening. The damp, cobbled pavement glistens as the lights of street lanterns dance across the slick stones. The fog chills the bones and shivers the soul of anyone outside. Yet inside these tavern walls the food is hearty, and the ale is warm and frothy. A fire blazes in the hearth, and the tavern is alive with the tumbling voices of country folk.
Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a hush falls over the room. Framed by the lamp-lit fog, a form strides through the doorway. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins shatter the silence. His brightly colored clothes draped in loose folds about him, and his hat hangs askew, hiding his eyes in shadow. Without hesitation, he walks up to your table and stands proudly in a wide stance with folded arms.
In an accented voice he says, "I have been sent to you to deliver you this message. If you be creatures of honor, you will come to my master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich Woods by night!" He pulls from his tunic a sealed letter, addressed to all of you in beautiful, flowing script. He drops the letter on the table. "Take the west road from here some five hours march down through the Svalich Woods. There, you will find my master in Barovia."
Amid the silent stares of the patronage, the ***** strides to the bar and says "Fill the glasses, one and all. Their throats are obviously parched." He drops a purse heavy with gold on the bar. With that, he leaves.
The babble of tavern voices resumes, although somewhat subdued. The letter is lying before you. The seal is in the shape of a crest you don't recognize."
PC's
Emre Freesword (Human Death Cleric): Played by Awaypturwpn
Byllemura Ziasebek (Tiefling Sorcerer): Played by Toadstool
Valanthe Galanodel (Drow Paladin): Played by jr_el_leon
Thpas (Aasimar Warlock of the Fiend): Played by Kickinitlegit
Devious serpent folk devoid of compassion, yuan-ti manipulate other creatures by arousing their doubts, evoking their fears, and elevating and crushing their hopes. From remote temples in jungles, swamps, and deserts, the yuan-ti plot to supplant and dominate all other races and to make themselves gods.
Emre's hazel-green eyes watch the ***** as he leave the tavern, and then fall to the letter. She hesitates in reaching for it, and instead looks at the others with a quizzical expression on her pale face. "Not sure about this...do any of you recognize that crest?"
"Hmm." The cloaked Aasimar grasps the letter, holding it up to his face to get a better look. "A shield, bearing a bramble, or briars, adorned with the emblem of a dark Tower, and some beastly interpretation of a Raven in the foreground." Thpas rubs his hairless face and turns the image upside down to see if it clarifies his understanding. It doesn't.
"I'm sorry, Emre. But I think if we want to learn any more about this invitation, we will just have to open it and see. Unless..." he looks over to the Dwarf among them, "Therfice, what do you make of this?"
Deroc walks back up to the table, having needed to relieve himself just moments before the gypsie had arrived. Seeing the letter, Deroc's blood starting to run cold. A signum. The mark of some royalty. Swallowing the phlegm that had built up in the back of his throat, the half-elf began to talk.
"Hey Aasimar, where did you get that? I know it wasn't here when I left."
With Deroc's hood hiding his face, only a few strands of pitch-black hair escaped the brown cloth. His figure, tall and lithe, was adorned with leather armor, brown with black stitching. No emblems adorned his frame, but several weapons did. A simple long sword was strapped to his back as a short sword was sat against his left hip. On his chest hung a bandolier that was over his armor, but under his cloak. Three daggers and two pouches adorned this bandolier. Two of the daggers were simple, but the third one sported an engraved wolf's head at the end of its hilt. A memento from war. In one of the pouches sat his badge of office, useless now, and a set of bone dice.
Rolling his eyes, and with a grimace Thpas responds, "No, half'n'half, it wasn't" his grimace quickly turns into a grin, "In fact you missed the show! heh. Some ***** strode in gave us the letter and bought everyone in the tavern a pint before turning tail and marching back off to his master. I've already drank mine and this WAS yours...but I took the liberty, you being away from the table and all. I figured you wouldn't mind." he drinks long, maintaining eye contact with Deroc the whole swig.
"Now, now, everyone - play nice. Thpas, give Deroc his ale... well, what's left of - oh, never mind," Valanthe says with a rather sigh, then continuing with a cheerful tone, "Come on, Deroc, I'll buy you a drink. And don't let the aassimar with the fiend complex wear you down - be proud of who you are."
Regarding the letter in Thpas's hand, "The man who delivered that was rather colorful - and we could use some song and dance in our lives, this tavern is a bore. Open up the letter and see what it says - there's no harm in that!"
The half-drow walks up to the bar, not really paying attention to what the other patrons are doing and orders a couple of pints from the barman. Looking back to the table, "Come on, Deroc, barman's fixing you up a pint."
Deroc first gave Thpas a withering look, knowing that the man held no ill will towards himself. Then, responding to Valanthe, he continued to speak, "Valanthe, You know that I don;t drink. We've been together for yours and yet you still can;t remember." Deroc spoke with an exasperated tone.
Then, his eyes travelling back to the letter, Deroc opened his mouth once more, though now his words were a forewarning, "As I have said once, and will continue to say, NOTHING good comes from dealings with nobles. Nothing at all," these last words of his held an even greater venom than the ones that came before them.
Pulling out the empty chair next to Thpas, Deroc sat down at the table. His leather armor creaked ever so slightly as he did so, his weapons rattling and clinking. The sword on his back gave him a fair bit of trouble too. The half-elf had to sit on the edge of the seat and then slide back to sit fully on the chair. Seated and comfortable, his left leg spread out underneath the table, just barely brushing against Emre's own leg, and his right leg folded up underneath it, Deroc spoke, "I think we should burn it and then forget about it. This letter is bad news. No noble would buy a random tavern full of people a drink." Leaning back, having made his point clear, the half-elf made his last comment, "At the end of it, it's the group's decision. You guys know that I will side with you, even if I disagree with you, and follow you to the depths of hell and back."
The half-elf's face was confident and sober, unlike the aassimar's, but his eyes. Deroc's eyes betrayed his pain, a monster that gnawed away at him every night. A monster that he could never slay. He was worried, it was plain to tell. The man didn't want the family that now surrounded him to perish away in a vanishing dance of smoke and mirrors.
Valanthe arches an eye brow at Deroc, "Aye, you don't drink," then, with a mischievous smile, "Waste not, want not," and places the pint in front of Thpas.
Sitting down, she changes the subject, "if nobles bring no good, then more the reason to find out what the letter is... Perhaps we keep them from hurting others... And maybe even bring the Song of the Lady to their hearts."
"And for another night I find myself Unfertilized, Yet I am still drinking for two!" Thpas stands up and addresses his companions, though speaking loud enough for the entire establishment to hear, "This bird reminds me of a toast I'd like to share." The blue skinned Humanoid clears his throat and continues, "Here's to the storks who bring us beautiful babies," He raises his glass and cheers, but theres more, "here's to the crows who bring us the ugly babies" Thpas laughs raucously, but composes himself for the last line of prose, "But most of all-most of all, heres to the swallows that bring us no babies" Laughing now as the rest of the tavern returns to its regular level of scuttle, Thpas returns his attention to the letter. "well, somebody had better open it, the anticipation alone is killing me!" And with a chivalrous visage, he attempts to challenge the fresh pint as best he can.
"Well," Valanthe begins as she slides onto the bench next to Erme, "you have got to give him some credit for the showmanship... Although that 'poem' is so old you might as well be giving it its last rites!" Which she follows with a hearty laugh.
Then, impatiently, grabs the envelope, says a quick prayer to Eilistraee and slices the envelope open along its side with her longsword. She remarks," What? I want to keep the envelope intact, I like the look of the emblem. I'm adding it to my scrapbook...."
//OOC for purposes of visualization, Valanthe unsheathed her longsword just enough to slide the envelope's edge along it to open it up.... With that said, she has definitely smote an envelope or two in her time either out of frustration or for scrapbooking purposes (y'know, to get that burnt edge of the paper look)... //
Byllemura has been quietly witnessing the whole scene, sitting in the shadows at the far end of the table, her hood hiding her fiendish features. She leans forward, revealing a lock of white hair dropping across her tattooed face. She takes a long sip of ale and turns her deep blue eyes towards Valanthe, gazing intently at the enveloppe. "Valanthe, dear. Now that the envelope is open, there is no point not having a look at what's inside." She chuckles gently. "Emre is going to die of curiosity if we don't. Would you please read it out loud?"
Rangiel entered the tavern, having returned from the blacksmith with everyone's (metal) gear wrapped in a bundle (he took all of the gear to be repaired), to see everyone reading a letter, and out of curiosity, moves in closer while placing the bundle on the table. "Well, well, what have we here?" He asked, in his large, booming voice, leaning over the table behind Valanthe.
He then picked up the envelope from off the table and began to inspect it. "Hmm... I suspect the colorfully clad man I passed on my way back here dropped this off?" He said as he placed the envelope in Valanthe's anxiously awaiting hands. "Don't worry Velanthe, I wouldn't have torn it THAT much" He joked as he sat down, fiddling with a silver whistle
// OOC I'm working under the assumption that upon opening the envelope, we're taking out the contents (whatever that may be) and reading the letter (provided there is actually one) - but I don't know what is in the envelope or what the letter says, only DungeonLord58 (our DM) does..... //
For those of you who can't read the handwriting above, I have it copied below:
"Hail to thee of might and valor. I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee.
We plead for thy to desperately needed assistance.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace.
There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!
Kolyan Indrovich
Burgomaster
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Devious serpent folk devoid of compassion, yuan-ti manipulate other creatures by arousing their doubts, evoking their fears, and elevating and crushing their hopes. From remote temples in jungles, swamps, and deserts, the yuan-ti plot to supplant and dominate all other races and to make themselves gods.
"*sigh* So much for the big mistery, Aranna. We are good for another boring job.", mutters Byllemura. "At least, it looks like there is some coin to be made. The gipsy said it was a five hours walk west through the woods. Should not take long to go there, sort things out and move on, right?"
For those of you who can't read the handwriting above, I have it copied below:
"Hail to thee of might and valor. I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee.
We plead for thy to desperately needed assistance.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace.
There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!
Kolyan Indrovich
Burgomaster
//OOC Sorry I had a little trouble reading it and the font type that popped up on the forum, so I converted it to regular type face, if you don't mind. //
"Hail to thee of might and valor. I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy to desperately needed assistance. The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace. There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!"
PC's
Emre Freesword (Human Death Cleric): Played by Awaypturwpn
Byllemura Ziasebek (Tiefling Sorcerer): Played by Toadstool
Valanthe Galanodel (Drow Paladin): Played by jr_el_leon
Thpas (Aasimar Warlock of the Fiend): Played by Kickinitlegit
Devious serpent folk devoid of compassion, yuan-ti manipulate other creatures by arousing their doubts, evoking their fears, and elevating and crushing their hopes. From remote temples in jungles, swamps, and deserts, the yuan-ti plot to supplant and dominate all other races and to make themselves gods.
Emre's hazel-green eyes watch the ***** as he leave the tavern, and then fall to the letter. She hesitates in reaching for it, and instead looks at the others with a quizzical expression on her pale face. "Not sure about this...do any of you recognize that crest?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder PbP | Yet Another Storm King's Thunder PbP
Current: Eogard Duramastar, Human Twilight Cleric/Star Druid | Eiren Lathrana, Shadar-Kai Eldritch Knight/Bladesinger | Arugula, Rabbitfolk Armorer
Survivor: CrispyDM's Saltmarsh as Syltra | SarcasticFury's Strahd as Hadrian Frozenspark | Forge of Fury as The DM
"Hmm." The cloaked Aasimar grasps the letter, holding it up to his face to get a better look. "A shield, bearing a bramble, or briars, adorned with the emblem of a dark Tower, and some beastly interpretation of a Raven in the foreground." Thpas rubs his hairless face and turns the image upside down to see if it clarifies his understanding. It doesn't.
"I'm sorry, Emre. But I think if we want to learn any more about this invitation, we will just have to open it and see. Unless..." he looks over to the Dwarf among them, "Therfice, what do you make of this?"
Emre tries to downplay her curiosity, unsuccessfully.
DM - Storm King's Thunder PbP | Yet Another Storm King's Thunder PbP
Current: Eogard Duramastar, Human Twilight Cleric/Star Druid | Eiren Lathrana, Shadar-Kai Eldritch Knight/Bladesinger | Arugula, Rabbitfolk Armorer
Survivor: CrispyDM's Saltmarsh as Syltra | SarcasticFury's Strahd as Hadrian Frozenspark | Forge of Fury as The DM
Deroc walks back up to the table, having needed to relieve himself just moments before the gypsie had arrived. Seeing the letter, Deroc's blood starting to run cold. A signum. The mark of some royalty. Swallowing the phlegm that had built up in the back of his throat, the half-elf began to talk.
"Hey Aasimar, where did you get that? I know it wasn't here when I left."
With Deroc's hood hiding his face, only a few strands of pitch-black hair escaped the brown cloth. His figure, tall and lithe, was adorned with leather armor, brown with black stitching. No emblems adorned his frame, but several weapons did. A simple long sword was strapped to his back as a short sword was sat against his left hip. On his chest hung a bandolier that was over his armor, but under his cloak. Three daggers and two pouches adorned this bandolier. Two of the daggers were simple, but the third one sported an engraved wolf's head at the end of its hilt. A memento from war. In one of the pouches sat his badge of office, useless now, and a set of bone dice.
Rolling his eyes, and with a grimace Thpas responds, "No, half'n'half, it wasn't" his grimace quickly turns into a grin, "In fact you missed the show! heh. Some ***** strode in gave us the letter and bought everyone in the tavern a pint before turning tail and marching back off to his master. I've already drank mine and this WAS yours...but I took the liberty, you being away from the table and all. I figured you wouldn't mind." he drinks long, maintaining eye contact with Deroc the whole swig.
"Now, now, everyone - play nice. Thpas, give Deroc his ale... well, what's left of - oh, never mind," Valanthe says with a rather sigh, then continuing with a cheerful tone, "Come on, Deroc, I'll buy you a drink. And don't let the aassimar with the fiend complex wear you down - be proud of who you are."
Regarding the letter in Thpas's hand, "The man who delivered that was rather colorful - and we could use some song and dance in our lives, this tavern is a bore. Open up the letter and see what it says - there's no harm in that!"
The half-drow walks up to the bar, not really paying attention to what the other patrons are doing and orders a couple of pints from the barman. Looking back to the table, "Come on, Deroc, barman's fixing you up a pint."
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'
Deroc first gave Thpas a withering look, knowing that the man held no ill will towards himself. Then, responding to Valanthe, he continued to speak, "Valanthe, You know that I don;t drink. We've been together for yours and yet you still can;t remember." Deroc spoke with an exasperated tone.
Then, his eyes travelling back to the letter, Deroc opened his mouth once more, though now his words were a forewarning, "As I have said once, and will continue to say, NOTHING good comes from dealings with nobles. Nothing at all," these last words of his held an even greater venom than the ones that came before them.
Pulling out the empty chair next to Thpas, Deroc sat down at the table. His leather armor creaked ever so slightly as he did so, his weapons rattling and clinking. The sword on his back gave him a fair bit of trouble too. The half-elf had to sit on the edge of the seat and then slide back to sit fully on the chair. Seated and comfortable, his left leg spread out underneath the table, just barely brushing against Emre's own leg, and his right leg folded up underneath it, Deroc spoke, "I think we should burn it and then forget about it. This letter is bad news. No noble would buy a random tavern full of people a drink." Leaning back, having made his point clear, the half-elf made his last comment, "At the end of it, it's the group's decision. You guys know that I will side with you, even if I disagree with you, and follow you to the depths of hell and back."
The half-elf's face was confident and sober, unlike the aassimar's, but his eyes. Deroc's eyes betrayed his pain, a monster that gnawed away at him every night. A monster that he could never slay. He was worried, it was plain to tell. The man didn't want the family that now surrounded him to perish away in a vanishing dance of smoke and mirrors.
Valanthe arches an eye brow at Deroc, "Aye, you don't drink," then, with a mischievous smile, "Waste not, want not," and places the pint in front of Thpas.
Sitting down, she changes the subject, "if nobles bring no good, then more the reason to find out what the letter is... Perhaps we keep them from hurting others... And maybe even bring the Song of the Lady to their hearts."
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'
"And for another night I find myself Unfertilized, Yet I am still drinking for two!" Thpas stands up and addresses his companions, though speaking loud enough for the entire establishment to hear, "This bird reminds me of a toast I'd like to share." The blue skinned Humanoid clears his throat and continues, "Here's to the storks who bring us beautiful babies," He raises his glass and cheers, but theres more, "here's to the crows who bring us the ugly babies" Thpas laughs raucously, but composes himself for the last line of prose, "But most of all-most of all, heres to the swallows that bring us no babies" Laughing now as the rest of the tavern returns to its regular level of scuttle, Thpas returns his attention to the letter. "well, somebody had better open it, the anticipation alone is killing me!" And with a chivalrous visage, he attempts to challenge the fresh pint as best he can.
"Well," Valanthe begins as she slides onto the bench next to Erme, "you have got to give him some credit for the showmanship... Although that 'poem' is so old you might as well be giving it its last rites!" Which she follows with a hearty laugh.
Then, impatiently, grabs the envelope, says a quick prayer to Eilistraee and slices the envelope open along its side with her longsword. She remarks," What? I want to keep the envelope intact, I like the look of the emblem. I'm adding it to my scrapbook...."
//OOC for purposes of visualization, Valanthe unsheathed her longsword just enough to slide the envelope's edge along it to open it up.... With that said, she has definitely smote an envelope or two in her time either out of frustration or for scrapbooking purposes (y'know, to get that burnt edge of the paper look)... //
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'
Emre leans in to see what's on the letter that Valanthe is opening.
DM - Storm King's Thunder PbP | Yet Another Storm King's Thunder PbP
Current: Eogard Duramastar, Human Twilight Cleric/Star Druid | Eiren Lathrana, Shadar-Kai Eldritch Knight/Bladesinger | Arugula, Rabbitfolk Armorer
Survivor: CrispyDM's Saltmarsh as Syltra | SarcasticFury's Strahd as Hadrian Frozenspark | Forge of Fury as The DM
Byllemura has been quietly witnessing the whole scene, sitting in the shadows at the far end of the table, her hood hiding her fiendish features. She leans forward, revealing a lock of white hair dropping across her tattooed face. She takes a long sip of ale and turns her deep blue eyes towards Valanthe, gazing intently at the enveloppe. "Valanthe, dear. Now that the envelope is open, there is no point not having a look at what's inside." She chuckles gently. "Emre is going to die of curiosity if we don't. Would you please read it out loud?"
PbP: Curse of Strahd: In the Shadow of Ravenloft - Byllemura Ziasebek, Tiefling Sorceress (4)
Rangiel entered the tavern, having returned from the blacksmith with everyone's (metal) gear wrapped in a bundle (he took all of the gear to be repaired), to see everyone reading a letter, and out of curiosity, moves in closer while placing the bundle on the table. "Well, well, what have we here?" He asked, in his large, booming voice, leaning over the table behind Valanthe.
He then picked up the envelope from off the table and began to inspect it. "Hmm... I suspect the colorfully clad man I passed on my way back here dropped this off?" He said as he placed the envelope in Valanthe's anxiously awaiting hands. "Don't worry Velanthe, I wouldn't have torn it THAT much" He joked as he sat down, fiddling with a silver whistle
Avast ye mainster! Timber me portside and buckleswash the poopdeck!
And now Aranna had entered...
"If you are not going to read that letter, at the very least, please give it to me so that I can read it. I've always loved a good mystery..."
// OOC I'm working under the assumption that upon opening the envelope, we're taking out the contents (whatever that may be) and reading the letter (provided there is actually one) - but I don't know what is in the envelope or what the letter says, only DungeonLord58 (our DM) does..... //
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'
The letter reads:
For those of you who can't read the handwriting above, I have it copied below:
"Hail to thee of might and valor. I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee.
We plead for thy to desperately needed assistance.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace.
There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!
Kolyan Indrovich
Burgomaster
Devious serpent folk devoid of compassion, yuan-ti manipulate other creatures by arousing their doubts, evoking their fears, and elevating and crushing their hopes. From remote temples in jungles, swamps, and deserts, the yuan-ti plot to supplant and dominate all other races and to make themselves gods.
"*sigh* So much for the big mistery, Aranna. We are good for another boring job.", mutters Byllemura. "At least, it looks like there is some coin to be made. The gipsy said it was a five hours walk west through the woods. Should not take long to go there, sort things out and move on, right?"
PbP: Curse of Strahd: In the Shadow of Ravenloft - Byllemura Ziasebek, Tiefling Sorceress (4)
"Tis a sign from the gods," says Emre. "An omen. Wealth and the honor of a community beckon!"
DM - Storm King's Thunder PbP | Yet Another Storm King's Thunder PbP
Current: Eogard Duramastar, Human Twilight Cleric/Star Druid | Eiren Lathrana, Shadar-Kai Eldritch Knight/Bladesinger | Arugula, Rabbitfolk Armorer
Survivor: CrispyDM's Saltmarsh as Syltra | SarcasticFury's Strahd as Hadrian Frozenspark | Forge of Fury as The DM
"Hail to thee of might and valor.
I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy to desperately needed assistance.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace. There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!"
Kolyan Indrovich
Burgomaster
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'