Atem cleared his throat and propped himself up on his elbows from the bar. Tournament? Sounds just like what he needs.
He spat on his palm and brushed his hair, the long, striking silver locks falling behind him. Satisfied with his appearance, he put a lazy grin on his lips and leaned over the table. "Did I hear someone say tournament?" he says. He narrowed his eyes, nodded drunkenly, and announced with satisfaction, "Looks like you guys are missing exactly one person. Don't worry, I got this covered." He reached over and pulled the sign-up sheet from the table and signed his name - Atem Rakyevra - in the blank space in the most dashing chicken-scratch style.
With a generous flourish, he showed off his impeccable pecs again, burped a little, and somehow managed to send a wink Vexha's way. "You're welcome. Leave the thanks after we win."
"I wanted to be a wizard when I was your age" Brain says, assuming everyone is younger than him, even when he knows they have much longer lifespan. "You're right about Brawn, I've seen her take town a runaway ox bare handed. As for me, I can get crafty when I need to and people tend to ignore me enough that I can get into places I'm not supposed to."
Brain then looks at the new signature and nods, taking a long calming drag off his pipe before snuffing it, loading it, lighting it, taking a pull off the newly loaded pipe and then exhaling a sigh through his nose
As they are getting to know each other, the party members also overhear snippets of conversation from nearby customers in the bustling bar room. Here are a few statements that stand out to you.
“I hear some wizard is holding a contest in the arena this afternoon, and the winners get the privilege of accompanying him into the Wilderness of Yilan! Doesn’t tempt me in the slightest, of course. A whole purse full of gold won’t do me any good if I’m dead!”
“I remember last year some high and mighty noble—what was his name? Oh, yeah, Lord Cerastes—he led an expedition into Yilan. Something about ‘Bald Hill’? Anyways, he ain’t been seen since, and neither has anyone who went with him.”
“There was some disturbance at the Temple of Bast this morning. I didn’t see what was going on, but the priestesses looked pretty upset.”
“Monsters are on the rise in Yilan. Used to be you could head out into the wilderness and come back with rare spices and ancient treasures or whatever, if you were brave enough. Just ask Master Mantell at the Hall of Curiosities. Now it’s just too deadly. Something’s out there. Something hungry.”
“I was up in the hills last week, and a goatherd told me he’d just killed a dragon. I got a look at it, and I don’t know what it was, but it weren’t no dragon. Wasn’t a bird, either—its beak was full of teeth, and its wings were more like bat wings. Tasted okay, though.”
“They say a dragon’s taken up living in the Wilderness of Yilan. That fool wizard Gehir’d better be careful out there, or he’ll end up dead and eaten just like Lord Cerastes and his men.”
You've all been on the lookout for other adventurer types... your potential competition in today's contest. As you scan the barroom, you do notice one group keeping to themselves at a table in the corner. They've had their eyes on you since you entered the Lotus, but have otherwise done nothing to draw notice to themselves. They are a motley bunch, but you can tell they are a team because they each have a heart patch sewn into their clothing.
The group is a half-elf woman with pale skin and short, platinum hair that contrasts with black clothing trimmed purple, who is missing her right pinky finger:
a half-orc woman dressed in conspicuously expensive clothing that are in pristine condition. She has her heart patch sewn onto the sleeve of her blue and white checkered tunic:
a tiefling woman with pale purple skin marked with darker freckles; straight, black hair; and a pair of short horns sprouting from her forehead. She has a mandolin strapped across her shoulders, as well:
and, a small humanoid who looks like nothing so much as a rat-person with a set of small tentacles surrounding their mouth. They have golden-brown fur and wear forest-green clothes. And they have been more watchful of you than any of the others at their table:
on noticing the other competition adventurers, Vexha looks at Brain and quietly, so it can’t be heard outside the table, says: “So, Brain, are we a team then? it Looks like there’s some competition watching us. We probably should talk about how we plan to win- somewhere private. But maybe meeting them would be a good strategy?”
She is curious about all of the tales, but particularly the tale of the strange beast. It reminds her of something..... disturbing in her past.
“Sounds like this is my cue.” Atem says, as he stands up from the table. By humans’ standards, he’s quite a tall and lean young man, with slender limbs that move elegantly even despite of his drunkenness, albeit a little slow. “Aren’t y’all glad that you’ve got me?” He gives his group a confident smirk. And a wink.
This time he unbuttoned his vest completely open, revealing his bare chest and stomach, along with a shiny silver piercing on his bellybutton. He stands like a proud, handsome peacock. He picks up a gold piece from his pocket in between his fingers, raised up so everyone with an eye could see. “Good sir,” he says to the bartender loudly, “could you please get one more round of shots for these lovely ladies? On me, of course.”
He smiles, and comes up behind the tiefling lady of the group. “My fine lady,” he starts, “I can’t help but notice the mandolin you carry. I’m sure it holds tales of your own. What do you reckon,” he bows slightly, and his beautiful, smooth silver hair falls down his shoulder. He makes sure he gets her attention, “if I may be a worthy audience to your stories?”
He smiles, and comes up behind the tiefling lady of the group. “My fine lady,” he starts, “I can’t help but notice the mandolin you carry. I’m sure it holds tales of your own. What do you reckon,” he bows slightly, and his beautiful, smooth silver hair falls down his shoulder. He makes sure he gets her attention, “if I may be a worthy audience to your stories?”
(Coming up behind her proves difficult, as the entire party sits with their backs to a wall.)
As Atem approaches their table, the half-orc woman stands up to intercept him. Placing her hands between him and her, palms facing outward in a defensive posture, she says, "how now, good sir? What business have thee with my fellows?"
Meanwhile, the rat-person wriggles their face tentacles and one of their hands drifts down to a dagger at their side.
“Why,” Atem says, “I merely wish to share a drink and stories with your beautiful friend on this dreamy evening.”
He looks past the half-orc woman and looks directly in the tiefling’s eyes, his voice deeper and breathier. “I’m sure your friend can decide for herself if she will allow me the honour.”
“Why,” Atem says, “I merely wish to share a drink and stories with your beautiful friend on this dreamy evening.”
He looks past the half-orc woman and looks directly in the tiefling’s eyes, his voice deeper and breathier. “I’m sure your friend can decide for herself if she will allow me the honour.”
Wisdom (Insight) checks vs. DC 12 can tell you more about this party's interpersonal dynamics.
((Fondak has a passive insight of 15~))
Just as Fondak is about to raise his hand to signal the group to silently watch them, the young human gets up and does something foolish. Sighing he simply leans back to watch, knowing that this may act as a small test to see how this group reacts to pressure.
With the mention of a strange beaked dragon monster drifting through the tavern, Hew thinks of all the stories his mothers had told him, from before they left the clan and moved to Ventissa. Tales of beasts and ghouls and carnivorous daisies, of nights filled with mud rituals to ward off the monsters with whom they shared the land. 17(Nature roll to see if I've ever heard of anything like this)
Hew's milky white eyes are glued to the scene at the next table. What a fascinating group of people, he thinks. Something about the firm, relaxed posture of the orc woman caught his attention. She seemed entirely assured of herself, even staring down a gaggle of drunken strangers. The group's leader, perhaps? She's one to watch out for, Hew is sure of it.
Hew had clocked the mandolin on the tiefling as well, and was thrilled the (frankly stunning) man was bold enough to challenge her on it. You think you're so special? Prove it. He smiles at her, attempting to look relaxed in his chair. "Yes, good lady, play us a tune. I can see from here that you must be quite talented." Perhaps he can get a better look at them if they must break their cool stance and allow their friend to perform.
5 (Insight on the other group, particularly the orc woman)
You can tell that the half-elf woman is the actual leader of the group. The half-orc presents herself as the leader, and carries herself with the manner of someone noble-born, but takes silent cues from the half-elf. Both the tiefling and the... rat-person? ... do the same. All of them move subtly into slightly more defensive postures when Atem comes near; they are willing to fight, and possibly die, for her. The half-elf, for her part, radiates calm and gentility, but remains guarded. It is likely that she has never revealed all of who she truly is to anyone.
With the mention of a strange beaked dragon monster drifting through the tavern, Hew thinks of all the stories his mothers had told him, from before they left the clan and moved to Ventissa. Tales of beasts and ghouls and carnivorous daisies, of nights filled with mud rituals to ward off the monsters with whom they shared the land. 17(Nature roll to see if I've ever heard of anything like this)
The description actually is consistent with some types of dragons. Not the true dragons (chromatic & metallic), but some of the lesser types, like wyverns. The specific description certainly doesn't sound like any natural animal (in game terms, a beast) you're familiar with. But you are listening to gossip by a person who probably doesn't know as much as you do on the subject of dragons. Maybe a new species has been discovered?
Hew whispers to his compatriots, having completely misread the situation:
"It appears the orc woman is their leader, and they all resent the half elf. Look how they ignore her. She must be the weak link. Perhaps we should tug at the dangling threads of their loyalty to this woman they clearly despise."
Atem cleared his throat and propped himself up on his elbows from the bar. Tournament? Sounds just like what he needs.
He spat on his palm and brushed his hair, the long, striking silver locks falling behind him. Satisfied with his appearance, he put a lazy grin on his lips and leaned over the table. "Did I hear someone say tournament?" he says. He narrowed his eyes, nodded drunkenly, and announced with satisfaction, "Looks like you guys are missing exactly one person. Don't worry, I got this covered." He reached over and pulled the sign-up sheet from the table and signed his name - Atem Rakyevra - in the blank space in the most dashing chicken-scratch style.
With a generous flourish, he showed off his impeccable pecs again, burped a little, and somehow managed to send a wink Vexha's way. "You're welcome. Leave the thanks after we win."
"I wanted to be a wizard when I was your age" Brain says, assuming everyone is younger than him, even when he knows they have much longer lifespan. "You're right about Brawn, I've seen her take town a runaway ox bare handed. As for me, I can get crafty when I need to and people tend to ignore me enough that I can get into places I'm not supposed to."
Brain then looks at the new signature and nods, taking a long calming drag off his pipe before snuffing it, loading it, lighting it, taking a pull off the newly loaded pipe and then exhaling a sigh through his nose
As they are getting to know each other, the party members also overhear snippets of conversation from nearby customers in the bustling bar room. Here are a few statements that stand out to you.
“I hear some wizard is holding a contest in the arena this afternoon, and the winners get the privilege of accompanying him into the Wilderness of Yilan! Doesn’t tempt me in the slightest, of course. A whole purse full of gold won’t do me any good if I’m dead!”
“I remember last year some high and mighty noble—what was his name? Oh, yeah, Lord Cerastes—he led an expedition into Yilan. Something about ‘Bald Hill’? Anyways, he ain’t been seen since, and neither has anyone who went with him.”
“There was some disturbance at the Temple of Bast this morning. I didn’t see what was going on, but the priestesses looked pretty upset.”
“Monsters are on the rise in Yilan. Used to be you could head out into the wilderness and come back with rare spices and ancient treasures or whatever, if you were brave enough. Just ask Master Mantell at the Hall of Curiosities. Now it’s just too deadly. Something’s out there. Something hungry.”
“I was up in the hills last week, and a goatherd told me he’d just killed a dragon. I got a look at it, and I don’t know what it was, but it weren’t no dragon. Wasn’t a bird, either—its beak was full of teeth, and its wings were more like bat wings. Tasted okay, though.”
“They say a dragon’s taken up living in the Wilderness of Yilan. That fool wizard Gehir’d better be careful out there, or he’ll end up dead and eaten just like Lord Cerastes and his men.”
You've all been on the lookout for other adventurer types... your potential competition in today's contest. As you scan the barroom, you do notice one group keeping to themselves at a table in the corner. They've had their eyes on you since you entered the Lotus, but have otherwise done nothing to draw notice to themselves. They are a motley bunch, but you can tell they are a team because they each have a heart patch sewn into their clothing.
The group is a half-elf woman with pale skin and short, platinum hair that contrasts with black clothing trimmed purple, who is missing her right pinky finger:
a half-orc woman dressed in conspicuously expensive clothing that are in pristine condition. She has her heart patch sewn onto the sleeve of her blue and white checkered tunic:
a tiefling woman with pale purple skin marked with darker freckles; straight, black hair; and a pair of short horns sprouting from her forehead. She has a mandolin strapped across her shoulders, as well:
and, a small humanoid who looks like nothing so much as a rat-person with a set of small tentacles surrounding their mouth. They have golden-brown fur and wear forest-green clothes. And they have been more watchful of you than any of the others at their table:
on noticing the other competition adventurers, Vexha looks at Brain and quietly, so it can’t be heard outside the table, says: “So, Brain, are we a team then? it Looks like there’s some competition watching us. We probably should talk about how we plan to win- somewhere private. But maybe meeting them would be a good strategy?”
She is curious about all of the tales, but particularly the tale of the strange beast. It reminds her of something..... disturbing in her past.
“Sounds like this is my cue.” Atem says, as he stands up from the table. By humans’ standards, he’s quite a tall and lean young man, with slender limbs that move elegantly even despite of his drunkenness, albeit a little slow. “Aren’t y’all glad that you’ve got me?” He gives his group a confident smirk. And a wink.
This time he unbuttoned his vest completely open, revealing his bare chest and stomach, along with a shiny silver piercing on his bellybutton. He stands like a proud, handsome peacock. He picks up a gold piece from his pocket in between his fingers, raised up so everyone with an eye could see. “Good sir,” he says to the bartender loudly, “could you please get one more round of shots for these lovely ladies? On me, of course.”
He smiles, and comes up behind the tiefling lady of the group. “My fine lady,” he starts, “I can’t help but notice the mandolin you carry. I’m sure it holds tales of your own. What do you reckon,” he bows slightly, and his beautiful, smooth silver hair falls down his shoulder. He makes sure he gets her attention, “if I may be a worthy audience to your stories?”
(Coming up behind her proves difficult, as the entire party sits with their backs to a wall.)
As Atem approaches their table, the half-orc woman stands up to intercept him. Placing her hands between him and her, palms facing outward in a defensive posture, she says, "how now, good sir? What business have thee with my fellows?"
Meanwhile, the rat-person wriggles their face tentacles and one of their hands drifts down to a dagger at their side.
Brain makes eye contact with the squidrat and meaningfully shakes his head, tapping his own dagger on his left wrist.
Intimidation: 1
The squid-rat looks like they might be chuckling?
Wisdom (Insight) checks vs. DC 12 can tell you more about this party's interpersonal dynamics.
“Why,” Atem says, “I merely wish to share a drink and stories with your beautiful friend on this dreamy evening.”
He looks past the half-orc woman and looks directly in the tiefling’s eyes, his voice deeper and breathier. “I’m sure your friend can decide for herself if she will allow me the honour.”
Give me a Charisma (Persuasion) check vs. DC 12.
Oh, and just to clarify, time of day right now is mid-morning, not evening.
((Fondak has a passive insight of 15~))
Just as Fondak is about to raise his hand to signal the group to silently watch them, the young human gets up and does something foolish. Sighing he simply leans back to watch, knowing that this may act as a small test to see how this group reacts to pressure.
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
Persuasion: 12
So Atem is really there day-drunk, haha.
With the mention of a strange beaked dragon monster drifting through the tavern, Hew thinks of all the stories his mothers had told him, from before they left the clan and moved to Ventissa. Tales of beasts and ghouls and carnivorous daisies, of nights filled with mud rituals to ward off the monsters with whom they shared the land. 17 (Nature roll to see if I've ever heard of anything like this)
Hew's milky white eyes are glued to the scene at the next table. What a fascinating group of people, he thinks. Something about the firm, relaxed posture of the orc woman caught his attention. She seemed entirely assured of herself, even staring down a gaggle of drunken strangers. The group's leader, perhaps? She's one to watch out for, Hew is sure of it.
Hew had clocked the mandolin on the tiefling as well, and was thrilled the (frankly stunning) man was bold enough to challenge her on it. You think you're so special? Prove it. He smiles at her, attempting to look relaxed in his chair. "Yes, good lady, play us a tune. I can see from here that you must be quite talented." Perhaps he can get a better look at them if they must break their cool stance and allow their friend to perform.
5 (Insight on the other group, particularly the orc woman)
12 insight
12
Vexha watches the group and Atem’s antics with some amusement. She studies the group to see how they react to him- and if she can learn anything.
reading people is a skill, and not one she usually is good at, but the chance that she might be fighting this group soon focuses her observations...
For those who made the DC 12 Insight check:
The description actually is consistent with some types of dragons. Not the true dragons (chromatic & metallic), but some of the lesser types, like wyverns. The specific description certainly doesn't sound like any natural animal (in game terms, a beast) you're familiar with. But you are listening to gossip by a person who probably doesn't know as much as you do on the subject of dragons. Maybe a new species has been discovered?
Hew whispers to his compatriots, having completely misread the situation:
"It appears the orc woman is their leader, and they all resent the half elf. Look how they ignore her. She must be the weak link. Perhaps we should tug at the dangling threads of their loyalty to this woman they clearly despise."