"And today, in local news, our little town of Vermios is holding the annual Pig Festival!"
"That's right, Aerith! It will be a day of free pork, booze, and general excess!"
"People have traveled from miles away to reach Vermios this day! We still don't know why!"
"Regardless of who you are and why you're tuning in, we hope you enjoy tonight's audio show, and our next song, Left My Fingers Behind by the Scrumdinglers!"
Vermios is a little town out in the middle of nowhere. It was only built because the land was cheaper than the mud it consisted of, and people only stay because the train tickets to leave are more pricey than the cost of living in the Vermios. The town exists only to serve the meat industry, and is owned completely by the Grebble Meat Packing Company. You likely arrived by train on Saturday, the only day on which it runs, as there is nothing but swamp for miles, and you are likely only here for the Pig Festival.
But the town is bustling today. Such an event rarely punctuates the citizens' normal, dreary lives. Many of them wait all year for this festival and the subsequent Togetherness Day five days later. Everyone is healthy and happy. Nothing could possibly go wrong today.
You are all gathered in the Gay Turnip tavern, which claims to accept "all real people." Everything here is pig leather. The seats, the pig heads lining the walls, the fish that are also on the walls, hell, even some of the cups are pig leather. Just about everyone here is waiting until the festival starts and listening to the radio, having already finished their part of the preparations.
Speaking of which, how have you all helped prepare for the Pig Festival? Even outsiders gotta do something for the town before they can attend.
*Doc has decorated the more 'public' sewers and catacombs with pig-themed decorations scrounged from the garbage last year (he is a long term thinker) and prepared some herbal cures for the inevitable tummy aches some of King Brock's "kids" get after the festival. He also tells his friend and former apprentice Calypso the recipes so she can minister to the towns' more well-to-do residents in the same situation.*
Doc sits in a darkened corner of the tavern, his collar turned up to obscure his face, nursing a cup of herbal tea. He scribbles arcane formulas into his "research notebook" trying to perfect a new invention.
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
Auburn helped set up the Gay Turnip before it opened so that it could occupy so many people. She is slightly outraged that they specifically accepts "real people", obviously meaning to exclude the undead, even after her debate with the owner.
She is currently drinking a pint of ale at the bar itself.
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Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
Doc stands, and the barkeep gestures to Zacharias' table, frowning. Doc makes his way over. "Something lacking in your drink, friend? Looks like you have the tea, which can be somewhat black and bitter this time of day. Meant more as a hangover cure than a beverage, frankly." He smiles, "I can get you something else, or make you an herbal tea that is far superior and will put a spring in your step all day, perhaps?"
Doc’s keenly intelligent brown eyes squint against the sunlight streaming in through the small windows. His buck-toothed rat-like facial features are framed with unkempt brown-gray beard and hair. His clothes were once-fine merchant attire and a gray lab coat, but are now disheveled and threadbare. A sturdy pistol belt holds a small book-box on one hip and an oversized revolver on the other. A battered leather doctor’s bag is secured to his shoulder with a bandolier that once held massive revolver shells but now contains metal potion vials labeled with arcane runes- some glow slightly. A scruffy sewer owl sits on his shoulder.
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'Oh no, it's not the drink that's the problem, though thank you for offering. I'm here to look for someone. Rumour is, they're hiding underneath the town somewhere. Like a typical dishonourable coward.' Zacharius spits out the last word disdainfully
"But of course! How fortuitous that we should meet! I am a bit of an expert on the storm drains and catacombs beneath the town. A conni-sewer, if you will." He chuckled at his own joke before concluding" We certainly do not tolerate ne'er-do-wells in King Brock's domain. Perhaps we might share a drink or two and see if we may be of service? "
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doc does a half-bow, "Just a little joke, no offense intended." He smiles apologetically, "Oh, pardon my manners! Most people call me 'Doc' . I didn't catch your name..."
Doc looks over the newcomer closely, looking for weapons and noting the condition/details of his clothing, equipment, and appearance. Perception 20
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
His clothes look like they have been repaired several times, his arms are covered in dragon tattoos, he has several prominent scars on his body. His hair is shoulder-length and black, part of which is tied into a ponytail
""Pleased to meet you, Zacharius! You look like the dangerous sort - hope you are not here for me!" Doc smiles broadly "I kid again, of course."
"As to your inquiry, it is no trouble at all. 'King' Brock is the Rat-King, leader and benefactor of the orphans and street kids of Vermios and a friend to all of us who choose to make the undercity our home, be they rat or man. Or ratman."
"Are you here for the Pork festival or do we have something else to thank for your company today?"
Doc sits down at the table and pulls out an alchemical apparatus uncorks a vial of... dried berries? "please pardon me- need to refresh my drink"
'Oh, you are right, I am the dangerous sort. And no need to worry, ratman, I am not here for you, unless it is you who wear my old helm now as a trophy. And no, I am not here for the Pork festival exactly, but I do intend to participate nonetheless'
"Fascinating! And what does this helm look like? I will do everything I can to ensure you are reunited with it."
Doc mutters quietly to himself as he brews a berry tea and chills it with a frost covered stirring wand before decanting most of it into a double-walled metal flask. He walks over to the bar and reaches over to slap a silver piece down and retrieve a couple short glasses. He pours a tenth of the 'tea' into each glass and sets one before Zacharius. Doc downs his in a single gulp.
"That will keep you refreshed all day, but it does act as an appetite suppressant so keep that in mind. You'll not be hungry or thirsty all day."
'It is a traditional Kyomian war helm. Made from dark iron, tempered with blood-infused ice water, and the mouth filled with ten teeth. Real teeth, not carvings. It was stolen off of me in an arena fight five years ago. It was meant to be a one-on-one, but the opponent had hired a guy in the audience to shoot a poison dart into me. I fell, he took my helm and has been on the fighting circuit with it since, showing off his stolen victory and dishonouring me, and all true warriors who wear such a helm. I've been tracking him for a while, and I believe he could be hiding in... 'your domain''
" How horrible! While I am a skilled guide, the domain belongs to King Brock. I will take this information to him this very day so all of his people are on the lookout for this individual."
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
"Only the hope for future friendship and collaboration, Zacharius of Draco House, and the satisfaction of ridding our fair undercity of this filth! Doctor Miguel of House O'Hara at your service! (Call me Doc for short if you prefer)"
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Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
*The PBP shall rise this day!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
SUNDAY: THE PIG FESTIVAL
"And today, in local news, our little town of Vermios is holding the annual Pig Festival!"
"That's right, Aerith! It will be a day of free pork, booze, and general excess!"
"People have traveled from miles away to reach Vermios this day! We still don't know why!"
"Regardless of who you are and why you're tuning in, we hope you enjoy tonight's audio show, and our next song, Left My Fingers Behind by the Scrumdinglers!"
Vermios is a little town out in the middle of nowhere. It was only built because the land was cheaper than the mud it consisted of, and people only stay because the train tickets to leave are more pricey than the cost of living in the Vermios. The town exists only to serve the meat industry, and is owned completely by the Grebble Meat Packing Company. You likely arrived by train on Saturday, the only day on which it runs, as there is nothing but swamp for miles, and you are likely only here for the Pig Festival.
But the town is bustling today. Such an event rarely punctuates the citizens' normal, dreary lives. Many of them wait all year for this festival and the subsequent Togetherness Day five days later. Everyone is healthy and happy. Nothing could possibly go wrong today.
You are all gathered in the Gay Turnip tavern, which claims to accept "all real people." Everything here is pig leather. The seats, the pig heads lining the walls, the fish that are also on the walls, hell, even some of the cups are pig leather. Just about everyone here is waiting until the festival starts and listening to the radio, having already finished their part of the preparations.
Speaking of which, how have you all helped prepare for the Pig Festival? Even outsiders gotta do something for the town before they can attend.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Doc has decorated the more 'public' sewers and catacombs with pig-themed decorations scrounged from the garbage last year (he is a long term thinker) and prepared some herbal cures for the inevitable tummy aches some of King Brock's "kids" get after the festival. He also tells his friend and former apprentice Calypso the recipes so she can minister to the towns' more well-to-do residents in the same situation.*
Doc sits in a darkened corner of the tavern, his collar turned up to obscure his face, nursing a cup of herbal tea. He scribbles arcane formulas into his "research notebook" trying to perfect a new invention.
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
Auburn helped set up the Gay Turnip before it opened so that it could occupy so many people. She is slightly outraged that they specifically accepts "real people", obviously meaning to exclude the undead, even after her debate with the owner.
She is currently drinking a pint of ale at the bar itself.
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
Zacharius is drinking a cup of tea, grimacing. He's planning to participate in a show fight later in the festivities
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Doc stands, and the barkeep gestures to Zacharias' table, frowning. Doc makes his way over. "Something lacking in your drink, friend? Looks like you have the tea, which can be somewhat black and bitter this time of day. Meant more as a hangover cure than a beverage, frankly." He smiles, "I can get you something else, or make you an herbal tea that is far superior and will put a spring in your step all day, perhaps?"
Doc’s keenly intelligent brown eyes squint against the sunlight streaming in through the small windows. His buck-toothed rat-like facial features are framed with unkempt brown-gray beard and hair. His clothes were once-fine merchant attire and a gray lab coat, but are now disheveled and threadbare. A sturdy pistol belt holds a small book-box on one hip and an oversized revolver on the other. A battered leather doctor’s bag is secured to his shoulder with a bandolier that once held massive revolver shells but now contains metal potion vials labeled with arcane runes- some glow slightly. A scruffy sewer owl sits on his shoulder.
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'Oh no, it's not the drink that's the problem, though thank you for offering. I'm here to look for someone. Rumour is, they're hiding underneath the town somewhere. Like a typical dishonourable coward.' Zacharius spits out the last word disdainfully
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"But of course! How fortuitous that we should meet! I am a bit of an expert on the storm drains and catacombs beneath the town. A conni-sewer, if you will." He chuckled at his own joke before concluding" We certainly do not tolerate ne'er-do-wells in King Brock's domain. Perhaps we might share a drink or two and see if we may be of service? "
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'I suppose you think you are funny, ratman. But yes, I do believe you may be of use. Who is this King Brock of which you speak?'
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Doc does a half-bow, "Just a little joke, no offense intended." He smiles apologetically, "Oh, pardon my manners! Most people call me 'Doc' . I didn't catch your name..."
Doc looks over the newcomer closely, looking for weapons and noting the condition/details of his clothing, equipment, and appearance. Perception 20
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'The name's Zacharius of Draco House.'
His clothes look like they have been repaired several times, his arms are covered in dragon tattoos, he has several prominent scars on his body. His hair is shoulder-length and black, part of which is tied into a ponytail
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""Pleased to meet you, Zacharius! You look like the dangerous sort - hope you are not here for me!" Doc smiles broadly "I kid again, of course."
"As to your inquiry, it is no trouble at all. 'King' Brock is the Rat-King, leader and benefactor of the orphans and street kids of Vermios and a friend to all of us who choose to make the undercity our home, be they rat or man. Or ratman."
"Are you here for the Pork festival or do we have something else to thank for your company today?"
Doc sits down at the table and pulls out an alchemical apparatus uncorks a vial of... dried berries? "please pardon me- need to refresh my drink"
*the apparatus: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/k4j9rgEr-bE *
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'Oh, you are right, I am the dangerous sort. And no need to worry, ratman, I am not here for you, unless it is you who wear my old helm now as a trophy. And no, I am not here for the Pork festival exactly, but I do intend to participate nonetheless'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"Fascinating! And what does this helm look like? I will do everything I can to ensure you are reunited with it."
Doc mutters quietly to himself as he brews a berry tea and chills it with a frost covered stirring wand before decanting most of it into a double-walled metal flask. He walks over to the bar and reaches over to slap a silver piece down and retrieve a couple short glasses. He pours a tenth of the 'tea' into each glass and sets one before Zacharius. Doc downs his in a single gulp.
"That will keep you refreshed all day, but it does act as an appetite suppressant so keep that in mind. You'll not be hungry or thirsty all day."
*Goodberry + Pestidigitation*
*Prestidigitation - unintentional 'pest' pun :) *
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'It is a traditional Kyomian war helm. Made from dark iron, tempered with blood-infused ice water, and the mouth filled with ten teeth. Real teeth, not carvings. It was stolen off of me in an arena fight five years ago. It was meant to be a one-on-one, but the opponent had hired a guy in the audience to shoot a poison dart into me. I fell, he took my helm and has been on the fighting circuit with it since, showing off his stolen victory and dishonouring me, and all true warriors who wear such a helm. I've been tracking him for a while, and I believe he could be hiding in... 'your domain''
https://www.heroforge.com/load_config=515136437/ for a Kyomian war helm
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*Coolest mini I have seen- well done!*
" How horrible! While I am a skilled guide, the domain belongs to King Brock. I will take this information to him this very day so all of his people are on the lookout for this individual."
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'Thank you, ratman. Do you request anything in return?'
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*thanks!*
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"Only the hope for future friendship and collaboration, Zacharius of Draco House, and the satisfaction of ridding our fair undercity of this filth! Doctor Miguel of House O'Hara at your service! (Call me Doc for short if you prefer)"
Old school AD&D player, now learning to be a better DM dad
'Fair undercity? You are funny, ratman. And thank you. Wait, hang on, you are really Doc? Like, the Doc? I've heard all about you'
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