"As a matter of fact I do,"she says with a smile, scooting over a bit to let Branmar sit next to her. "See, my folks were merchants... and one thing they was always good at was keeping their wares safe."
She unbuttons her collar and pulls back her shirt slightly... revealing a large blue birthmark just under her collarbone. A Mark of Warding.
"I may not be much of a saleswoman, but I definitely got one thing from my folks... this little darlin' has done me a solid and given me a few damn fine spells in the art of Abjuration. Most folks might not think abjuration is the most interesting school of study, but it's certainly a practical one! I thought it would be a solid plan to play to my strengths when I started learnin' the arcane arts."
Branmar's brow raises in interest as Dhara reveals her mark and he studies her for a moment, remaining standing as if oblivious of the proffered seat. "Now that is interesting," he says while allowing the gauntlet of his left arm to separate from his armor and pulling it off to reveal an identical mark on the back of his hand. "It appears that we share a common ancestor. Abjuration and warding are most certainly worthy endeavors." He pauses in a moment of reflection before continuing, "I come from a long line of vault makers, the art of abjuration is deeply familiar to me. But my focus lies in art of crafting all manner of things and weaving magics into my creations." Branmar replaces the gauntlet on his hand, the metal expanding and interlocking with the rest of the armor as he does. "We have a long journey ahead, perhaps we can shares notes sometime?"
The rolling hills and peaks of the Seborian range pass away and, after a heavy snack and several naps, the train jolts to a halt at a crude station held against a cliff face of red-tinted rock by dozens of metal and wooden support beams. Unloading your gear and stowing it in your wagon. One of Hoxley's aides, another tall, gaunt human, is waiting for you at the station and hands over the reigns of two immensely tall and powerful-looking horses. By simple feat of biology, these are almost too large to ride comfortably for folk who lack around 4 feet of leg, but are ideally suited to pulling the densely packed and heavy wagon across rough terrain. Hoxley listens to a quietly muttered report before dismissing his aide, who boards the train behind you. Turning to the group, he clears his throat.
"Welcome to Stronberg, the last town we are likely to see for some months. I have been advised by my aide that, due to a possibly risky storm heading in tonight, we will delay our departure until the morning. As such, we have accommodations at a local inn, the Briery Meade. Be warned - this is not a Deep Rock Incorporated mining town. Other interests are represented here, business and otherwise, and many of those interests would rather our expedition founder and fail. I will need you all to be on your best behavior, and for the love of all that is holy, don't speak to any elves while you are here. Sylvar and Sons (TM) apparently pushed their mayoral candidate here in the last election, tipping their hand as to the depth of their influence here. They are our direct competitors. Any questions?"
Hoxley's stern countenance, now something of a familiar thing from your travels thus far, strikes you a little differently now that you have left behind the relative safety of DRI's industrial heartland. He seems a little paler, like metal stretched before properly heated on the forge, and tense as load-bearing granite.
Having spent most of the trip listening and watching his fellow crew members (He would have let Raven know that his owl's name is Xaphan) trying to get a better feel for them, Eb is ready to get to work. When Hoxley let's them know that things are going to be delayed for an evening he is disappointed, but looking on the bright side of things at least he should be able to sleep in a nice warm bed for one more evening.
Though she looks distracted, Raven does listen to Hoxley's words, all the while maintaining her innocent smile. Why does he need to ask them to be on their best behavior? He should know by now that she is ALWAYS on her best behavior. She tilts her head. Doesn't it seem rude to ignore all the elves they see? Surely they aren't all big meanies, like Hoxley is making them sound like, but oh well, he is the boss....but what if the elves try to talk to them? Are they still just supposed to ignore them? Well, she'll cross that bridge if she finds it...then probably burn it after... Mr. Hoxley does seem more on edge then usual, better not to push him over with trivial questions such as this. Besides, she shouldn't have as much to worry about since she's not a dwarf, most people wouldn't just assume she works with Deep Rock would they? No they definitely wouldn't. Most people wouldn't guess a small little gnome like her would be working in the mines. Her grin widens.
Thondor gives an audible groan when he learns they will be incurring even more non-productive time as they wait for a storm to pass. He collects his gear and begins stomping grumpily towards the inn. He has no trouble respecting the instructions regarding not speaking to elves. He doesn’t make a point of speaking to elves anyway, nor anyone else for that matter. He does however scowl. Scowling is like a form of therapy for Thondor and he’s quite good at it in fact. On the way to the inn he manages to scowl at least 3 times as various elves who make eye contact with him.
"Looks like they weren't pulling our legs when they said that we're kinfolk around here,"Dhara replies to Branmar with a laugh. "Poolin' our knowledge sounds like a mighty fine idea to me. Two heads usually think a lot better 'an one, after all. Maybe we can get to the bottom of the mystery of our family tree sometime... it's quite a coincidence for the two of us to meet like this out of the blue."
Later, Dhara pays close attention to Hoxley's short speech and nods along. She doesn't like the sound of it very much... if he's saying what Dhara thinks he's saying, then they might be in for some serious trouble with these elves. And if the storm is so bad as to make travel impossible... well, she's certainly not going to go looking for a fight, but if the elves start trouble she'll do her level best to finish it. She moves her things to the room silently, lost in thought as she muses about the situation at hand.
(OOC: are we all sharing a room, or do we have separate rooms? Or are Dhara and Raven sharing a room while the boys have another room?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Eb smiles at Thondor when he hears the groan, knowing that someone else is feeling the same way about the delay. He follows him into the inn and says, "Truly is a shame that we can head straight for the dig site, after the first leg of our trek I was really looking forward to moving on quickly...but look on the bright side Thondor, we get a warm bed and, hopefully, a nicer meal then we'll be able to have when we are on the road."Speaking louder, for the rest of the group to hear, "Those in my party who wish, join me in the inn for a meal and some drinks, on me of course."Eb turn, trying to make eye contact with those in his party.
Raven turns her bright gold eyes on Eb, "Oooo! Hehe, I'll never turn down free food! You can count me in!" She grins at him as she hefts her pack over her shoulder and heads to the inn.
(OOC: that's a good question Mister_Whisker. I would assume we have to share, though the boy's may have two rooms between all of them.)
Heading down towards Stronberg, you find yourselves standing on a wide, rough avenue carved through the middle of the town. A few saloons and old, weary-looking establishments hang on the edges of the street, sagging slightly under their own weight whilst above you, about half a mile away, the tall smooth face of a tower embedded in the local granite stares down forbiddingly. Hoxley sees to the proper storage of the equipment before retiring to the Briery Meade, a homely, if slightly cramped tavern near the center of Stronberg. He keeps his own company in the evening, taking his meal in his room and presumably resting for the long days ahead. The Ironheads, your friendly partners and rivals, seem set on the idea of having a night on the town, one last time, before walking off the edge of civilization. With lusty laughter, they head over to one of the more disreputable-looking saloons where one might acquire beverages better suited to removing enamel than general consumption.
As you all decide what to do with your evening, you notice a patrol move through the wide street. Armored in a blue-tinted half-plate, these guards eye you as newcomers with no small suspicion, warning you to move off the street as evening traffic picks up, a few roving bands of miners (a mix of mostly humans and elves) and locals pour into the main avenue from various shadowy side-streets.
"I don't want nothin' too strong, love," she says with a smile and a chuckle. "I hate to say it, but I can't hold strong ale to save my life, unlike our most reputable traveling companions at the saloon."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Thondor will take his meal with the rest of the team but he has little to say and only grunts one-word answers if anyone engages with him. Thondor is not a drinker, believing that it makes him a less productive worker, and so he only has water with his meal. When finished, he retires to his room and spends the evening polishing and maintaining his gear.
Raven watches the other team make their way to the sketchy saloon. "I still think we should have put scorpions in their boots when we had the chance." She thinks to herself smiling. "Oh well, there will probably be plenty of scorpions once we get to our destination!" Giggling to herself she skips after her friends and finds a seat between Eb and Dhara. Since Eb is buying, she buys the most luxurious meal possible...as long as it sounds tasty...and one glass of ale. Once finished she grins at Eb, "Thanks for the food! It was delicious. hehe."Then she leans towards Dhara and whispers, "If you want to play any tricks on our reputable traveling companions, let me know! I'll be in my room." She giggles again and cheerfully skips to her quarters.
As Thondor thumps his way up the stairs to the small chambers provided by Hoxley, Dhara, Raven and Eb settle into their seats and enjoy a moment of respite. For all the uncertainty on the road ahead, things seem calm - the future bright.
"Sorry to intrude."
You all turn to see a young face peeking over the back of your table's bench, looking down on you with green, slightly sad eyes. The voice is soft and musical, yet carrying a certain vibrancy of tone that puts you all on edge for some reason. It takes only a brief flick of the eyes to notice the fine facial features, the soft, well-kept blond hair, and pointy ears.
"Sorry to intrude, but I thought you ought to know..." continues the elf, glancing around the table and taking in your faces with an expression of either idle curiosity or fascination. "That your friends over at the Hanged Nail Saloon are about a drink and a half away from an all-out brawl with the local constabulary, which might have a negative impact on your expedition."
A wan smile flickers over the elf's lips and his eyes narrow slightly in what looks to be anticipation.
Eb inclines his head in acknowledgement, looks to his companions and says, "Well ladies it sounds like someone should go and corral our other 'team', If you would like to stay here I understand." He stands and bows slightly to Raven and Dhara, puts 10 gold on the table for the meal and drinks, then turns to the elf that brought this to their attention and bows politely before leaving the Briery Meade in search of the Hanged Nail Saloon with haste.
Raven looks up at the elf and blinks. Just as she suspected, an elf decided to talk to them, there was simply no avoiding it. She grins up at him then turns back to Eb, "Sure! I'll come along! Sounds like fun!" Then she hops down from her chair and sidles up to Eb and whispers, "He's definitely planning something! I can see it in his eyes!" Then she giggles, and glances back at the elf and grins at him again before following after Eb. She seems rather proud of herself. After all, she had avoided talking to the elf.
"We'd better try an' take care of this,"she says at last. "Just give me a second and..."
A thin frost covers Dhara as she casts Armor of Agathys at 2nd level so that if someone makes the mistake of punching her, they're going to hurt themselves and it won't be her fault (while also activating her Arcane Ward)
Dhara looks up at Branmar and shuts her book.
"As a matter of fact I do," she says with a smile, scooting over a bit to let Branmar sit next to her. "See, my folks were merchants... and one thing they was always good at was keeping their wares safe."
She unbuttons her collar and pulls back her shirt slightly... revealing a large blue birthmark just under her collarbone. A Mark of Warding.
"I may not be much of a saleswoman, but I definitely got one thing from my folks... this little darlin' has done me a solid and given me a few damn fine spells in the art of Abjuration. Most folks might not think abjuration is the most interesting school of study, but it's certainly a practical one! I thought it would be a solid plan to play to my strengths when I started learnin' the arcane arts."
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
Branmar's brow raises in interest as Dhara reveals her mark and he studies her for a moment, remaining standing as if oblivious of the proffered seat. "Now that is interesting," he says while allowing the gauntlet of his left arm to separate from his armor and pulling it off to reveal an identical mark on the back of his hand. "It appears that we share a common ancestor. Abjuration and warding are most certainly worthy endeavors." He pauses in a moment of reflection before continuing, "I come from a long line of vault makers, the art of abjuration is deeply familiar to me. But my focus lies in art of crafting all manner of things and weaving magics into my creations." Branmar replaces the gauntlet on his hand, the metal expanding and interlocking with the rest of the armor as he does. "We have a long journey ahead, perhaps we can shares notes sometime?"
The rolling hills and peaks of the Seborian range pass away and, after a heavy snack and several naps, the train jolts to a halt at a crude station held against a cliff face of red-tinted rock by dozens of metal and wooden support beams. Unloading your gear and stowing it in your wagon. One of Hoxley's aides, another tall, gaunt human, is waiting for you at the station and hands over the reigns of two immensely tall and powerful-looking horses. By simple feat of biology, these are almost too large to ride comfortably for folk who lack around 4 feet of leg, but are ideally suited to pulling the densely packed and heavy wagon across rough terrain. Hoxley listens to a quietly muttered report before dismissing his aide, who boards the train behind you. Turning to the group, he clears his throat.
"Welcome to Stronberg, the last town we are likely to see for some months. I have been advised by my aide that, due to a possibly risky storm heading in tonight, we will delay our departure until the morning. As such, we have accommodations at a local inn, the Briery Meade. Be warned - this is not a Deep Rock Incorporated mining town. Other interests are represented here, business and otherwise, and many of those interests would rather our expedition founder and fail. I will need you all to be on your best behavior, and for the love of all that is holy, don't speak to any elves while you are here. Sylvar and Sons (TM) apparently pushed their mayoral candidate here in the last election, tipping their hand as to the depth of their influence here. They are our direct competitors. Any questions?"
Hoxley's stern countenance, now something of a familiar thing from your travels thus far, strikes you a little differently now that you have left behind the relative safety of DRI's industrial heartland. He seems a little paler, like metal stretched before properly heated on the forge, and tense as load-bearing granite.
Having spent most of the trip listening and watching his fellow crew members (He would have let Raven know that his owl's name is Xaphan) trying to get a better feel for them, Eb is ready to get to work. When Hoxley let's them know that things are going to be delayed for an evening he is disappointed, but looking on the bright side of things at least he should be able to sleep in a nice warm bed for one more evening.
Though she looks distracted, Raven does listen to Hoxley's words, all the while maintaining her innocent smile. Why does he need to ask them to be on their best behavior? He should know by now that she is ALWAYS on her best behavior. She tilts her head. Doesn't it seem rude to ignore all the elves they see? Surely they aren't all big meanies, like Hoxley is making them sound like, but oh well, he is the boss....but what if the elves try to talk to them? Are they still just supposed to ignore them? Well, she'll cross that bridge if she finds it...then probably burn it after... Mr. Hoxley does seem more on edge then usual, better not to push him over with trivial questions such as this. Besides, she shouldn't have as much to worry about since she's not a dwarf, most people wouldn't just assume she works with Deep Rock would they? No they definitely wouldn't. Most people wouldn't guess a small little gnome like her would be working in the mines. Her grin widens.
Austrig looks at Hoxley and grunts an acceptance. "Better to remain silent and thought a fool, then to open your mouth and prove it, eh?"
He is really looking forward to getting into the mine and seeing if there are any traces of ancient civilizations or artifacts of history.
"ALWAYS GIVE A MONSTER AN EVEN BREAK!"
1st Edition DMG
Thondor gives an audible groan when he learns they will be incurring even more non-productive time as they wait for a storm to pass. He collects his gear and begins stomping grumpily towards the inn. He has no trouble respecting the instructions regarding not speaking to elves. He doesn’t make a point of speaking to elves anyway, nor anyone else for that matter. He does however scowl. Scowling is like a form of therapy for Thondor and he’s quite good at it in fact. On the way to the inn he manages to scowl at least 3 times as various elves who make eye contact with him.
"Looks like they weren't pulling our legs when they said that we're kinfolk around here," Dhara replies to Branmar with a laugh. "Poolin' our knowledge sounds like a mighty fine idea to me. Two heads usually think a lot better 'an one, after all. Maybe we can get to the bottom of the mystery of our family tree sometime... it's quite a coincidence for the two of us to meet like this out of the blue."
Later, Dhara pays close attention to Hoxley's short speech and nods along. She doesn't like the sound of it very much... if he's saying what Dhara thinks he's saying, then they might be in for some serious trouble with these elves. And if the storm is so bad as to make travel impossible... well, she's certainly not going to go looking for a fight, but if the elves start trouble she'll do her level best to finish it. She moves her things to the room silently, lost in thought as she muses about the situation at hand.
(OOC: are we all sharing a room, or do we have separate rooms? Or are Dhara and Raven sharing a room while the boys have another room?)
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
Eb smiles at Thondor when he hears the groan, knowing that someone else is feeling the same way about the delay. He follows him into the inn and says, "Truly is a shame that we can head straight for the dig site, after the first leg of our trek I was really looking forward to moving on quickly...but look on the bright side Thondor, we get a warm bed and, hopefully, a nicer meal then we'll be able to have when we are on the road." Speaking louder, for the rest of the group to hear, "Those in my party who wish, join me in the inn for a meal and some drinks, on me of course." Eb turn, trying to make eye contact with those in his party.
Raven turns her bright gold eyes on Eb, "Oooo! Hehe, I'll never turn down free food! You can count me in!" She grins at him as she hefts her pack over her shoulder and heads to the inn.
(OOC: that's a good question Mister_Whisker. I would assume we have to share, though the boy's may have two rooms between all of them.)
Heading down towards Stronberg, you find yourselves standing on a wide, rough avenue carved through the middle of the town. A few saloons and old, weary-looking establishments hang on the edges of the street, sagging slightly under their own weight whilst above you, about half a mile away, the tall smooth face of a tower embedded in the local granite stares down forbiddingly. Hoxley sees to the proper storage of the equipment before retiring to the Briery Meade, a homely, if slightly cramped tavern near the center of Stronberg. He keeps his own company in the evening, taking his meal in his room and presumably resting for the long days ahead. The Ironheads, your friendly partners and rivals, seem set on the idea of having a night on the town, one last time, before walking off the edge of civilization. With lusty laughter, they head over to one of the more disreputable-looking saloons where one might acquire beverages better suited to removing enamel than general consumption.
As you all decide what to do with your evening, you notice a patrol move through the wide street. Armored in a blue-tinted half-plate, these guards eye you as newcomers with no small suspicion, warning you to move off the street as evening traffic picks up, a few roving bands of miners (a mix of mostly humans and elves) and locals pour into the main avenue from various shadowy side-streets.
Dhara will join Raven and Eb for dinner.
"I don't want nothin' too strong, love," she says with a smile and a chuckle. "I hate to say it, but I can't hold strong ale to save my life, unlike our most reputable traveling companions at the saloon."
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
Thondor will take his meal with the rest of the team but he has little to say and only grunts one-word answers if anyone engages with him. Thondor is not a drinker, believing that it makes him a less productive worker, and so he only has water with his meal. When finished, he retires to his room and spends the evening polishing and maintaining his gear.
Raven watches the other team make their way to the sketchy saloon. "I still think we should have put scorpions in their boots when we had the chance." She thinks to herself smiling. "Oh well, there will probably be plenty of scorpions once we get to our destination!" Giggling to herself she skips after her friends and finds a seat between Eb and Dhara. Since Eb is buying, she buys the most luxurious meal possible...as long as it sounds tasty...and one glass of ale. Once finished she grins at Eb, "Thanks for the food! It was delicious. hehe." Then she leans towards Dhara and whispers, "If you want to play any tricks on our reputable traveling companions, let me know! I'll be in my room." She giggles again and cheerfully skips to her quarters.
As Thondor thumps his way up the stairs to the small chambers provided by Hoxley, Dhara, Raven and Eb settle into their seats and enjoy a moment of respite. For all the uncertainty on the road ahead, things seem calm - the future bright.
"Sorry to intrude."
You all turn to see a young face peeking over the back of your table's bench, looking down on you with green, slightly sad eyes. The voice is soft and musical, yet carrying a certain vibrancy of tone that puts you all on edge for some reason. It takes only a brief flick of the eyes to notice the fine facial features, the soft, well-kept blond hair, and pointy ears.
"Sorry to intrude, but I thought you ought to know..." continues the elf, glancing around the table and taking in your faces with an expression of either idle curiosity or fascination. "That your friends over at the Hanged Nail Saloon are about a drink and a half away from an all-out brawl with the local constabulary, which might have a negative impact on your expedition."
A wan smile flickers over the elf's lips and his eyes narrow slightly in what looks to be anticipation.
Eb inclines his head in acknowledgement, looks to his companions and says, "Well ladies it sounds like someone should go and corral our other 'team', If you would like to stay here I understand." He stands and bows slightly to Raven and Dhara, puts 10 gold on the table for the meal and drinks, then turns to the elf that brought this to their attention and bows politely before leaving the Briery Meade in search of the Hanged Nail Saloon with haste.
Raven looks up at the elf and blinks. Just as she suspected, an elf decided to talk to them, there was simply no avoiding it. She grins up at him then turns back to Eb, "Sure! I'll come along! Sounds like fun!" Then she hops down from her chair and sidles up to Eb and whispers, "He's definitely planning something! I can see it in his eyes!" Then she giggles, and glances back at the elf and grins at him again before following after Eb. She seems rather proud of herself. After all, she had avoided talking to the elf.
Dhara hesitates for a moment... then she sighs.
"We'd better try an' take care of this," she says at last. "Just give me a second and..."
A thin frost covers Dhara as she casts Armor of Agathys at 2nd level so that if someone makes the mistake of punching her, they're going to hurt themselves and it won't be her fault (while also activating her Arcane Ward)
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
((Ooc never actually talked to the elf just the people I was with))
(Woops. i edited my post lol)