Escaping his enslavement, Orak set out to find training so that his freedom would not be taken again. On his first day of training, he received a book and a task. His task was simply to write in the book. And once the book was filled, his training would be complete. When he was not receiving physical training from his mentor, he tried to figure out the book and why it would not hold ink. Four years of training and he had not yet managed to write in it, or managed to find any hidden meaning in it. But eventually his physical training was complete and he set out to try to find the meaning of the book. And since then his only goal in life was to figure out the book, and complete his journey.
up in the highlands on a spring day, While Flynn was merrily walking along the way. He came upon ruins of a time gone by, crumbling walls reaching towards the sky. He searched the place up and down, and this strange cube was all that he found. Still carrying it till this very day, What is use is though none can say.
When Porter left home, he didn't bring many of his possessions with him, save for his weapons and his Drinking Buddy doll. The doll itself is made of cloth, has no features and smells likes beer, but the scent is not overwhelming.
A Drinking Buddy doll is a piece of merchandise sold at the brewery owned by Porter's father. These dolls are mainly used in drinking contests. Whenever someone enters an inn or a tavern and pulls out their doll, everyone in the room who owns a Drinking Buddy must bring it out and accept a drinking challenge. Drinkers who are on the losing end of a challenge are subject to watching their doll get stabbed with a needle by the person - or people who beat them.
Since he received his Drinking Buddy, Porter has lost many drinking contests and has watched his doll get stabbed by drinkers of all ages, but he doesn't mind. Every needle the doll has received is a memory of a person he's met, and a place he's visited.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Trinket story: Shortly after Shaz first made his pact with his dark benefactor he came across a lone tooth in the road. It didn't look like any creature he had seen before and took it as an omen from Asmodeus himself. Since then he has attempted to compare it to other creatures teeth when possible, pulling teeth from fallen foes or any inebriated individuals he finds passed out in alleyways. He has yet to find a creature that matches, but believes its important for him to keep trying.,
The Count Guard used whistles to call for each other in case of an emergency The Count, beign a good man despite his bad taste for women, cared about the safety of his city and the guard not only patrolled his castle, but the land and the city behind it. Ostmund Roghkar, the half orc who was the Captain of the guard never knew why, but he had a soft spot with the young half elf that struggled to join the Guard for so many months. Perhaps his mixed heritage, or his stubbornness remind the captain of himself, but when he entered the dungeon below the castle and saw what just had happened he was relieved to see that his faith in the young one wasn’t misplaced. Despite the appearances, he knew that Rasen was innocent and that he had saved not only the Count but probably everyone in the castle. Ostmund knew too, that his siege wouldn’t see that way, for his lord was behaving weird since he met his now deceased third wife. Ostmund always suspected that she was the hand behind the sudden death of the second wife and she had manipulated his Lord to send Ostmund to make the farthest errands she could think of, so he wasn’t around the castle too much in the past months. But he was that night, just arrived for his last assignment and he was looking down his protégée, who was wounded, naked and crying at his love corpse. He knew that the Count will get his head for he will need a lot of time to believe that all that pain was brought by his wive hand. He took Rasen away, cleaned, healed and dressed him, as fast as he could and put him on horseback. It was him who said to Rasen to run as fast and as far as he could. Just before he go away, following an impulse, he gave him his own whistle.
“You will always be part of my guard” he said befor slapping the horse who ran into the night.
Up to this day Rasen has keep that golden whistle from the only true friend he has known.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Bwaah!" Farz attempts to break out of the entangle
Strength Saving Throw:20
(Trinket History)
Farz, as one brought up in a monastery, was not one for material possessions. He lives a life of virtues, rather than on monetary gain. However, he does have one item that he keeps hold of, a single glass eye.
The glass eye is a misty white colour with a red iris and small black pupil. The item he received when he was four years of age by a person who was being cared for by the temple. A high elf named Dreluas. While recovering, Farz would like to visit Dreluas. He was a generally sickly child so his presence in the halls of healing was not uncommon. He learnt that the high elf was a diviner and wizard for over two hundred years, who had come under a powerful curse after stopping a great threat, which was what was sapping his life away."This item is for you." He told the young dragonborn, handing it over. "It may not seem like much, but it may serve you when you are big and strong." Dreluas left the temple the following day, though the members of the monastery never saw him leave.
“What a strange group of individuals,” Horace thinks to himself. His nearly dessicated brain, however, rebels and those same words come tumbling from his mouth. The dragonborn, the tiefling, the half-orc, the gnome, the half-elf, the human. He has a sudden longing for his hovel, his swamp, the way the rank rotting smell clings in the stagnant air, the swamp muck squishing between his toes, the legions of creepy-crawlies dangling and squirming from every living and dead thing within sight.
Horace begins rummaging around under his cloak. His fingers crawl in and out of his leather jerkin, checking first his breast pocket, then his waste pocket, then his shoulder pocket, his other waste pocket, a neck pocket, two pockets on his back. He starts to grow frantic, his hands crawling hungrily all over his person like a crowd of beggar children, then in and out of the dozens of pockets sewn into his cloak, twigs and moss rustle loose and drift to the ground, sounds of annoyance and dismay escaping his lips. Until there! There it is! As he hears the words “...now you're doomed”, he turns toward the street and extracts from the 7th hip pocket on the left side a coin-size stone disk, with a small hole threaded by a limp leather loop, dull gray on one side but with a smooth and soothing coloration on the other. He tilts his head toward the approaching man and puts the stone in his mouth, the strap hanging out like reins. A sudden otherworldly sight floods into his mind. For Horace this talisman is a small window, a peephole, through the material plane to the true nature of being. Like the sun driving a spike through the swamp canopy to set alight a patch of mud. The rock, to this old creature, is a mysterious and powerful magic; to the rest of the world, however, it is simply a leaded gemstone, pretty and sweet but poisonous to the mind.
Horace leaned over a pocked and divided Tupelo stump, tending to his moss farm. The deer moss and tentacle lichen were doing well but the rock tripe looked like… well, it still looked like skunkbird dung but it was small and cracking at the tips. He took a nibble. Yes, definitely something wrong with it. Best to get rid of it. Horace scraped the black crust off the stump and inserted it into his mouth.
His crunching was so loud that he did not hear Victor return. It was the smell that tipped him off. As the 8-foot tall feathered and clawed monstrosity lumbered behind him Horace glanced up, took a sniff, and whirled around with delight.
“Victor! Come here, my sweet boy!” He opened his arms and tried to get a grasp on the beast’s leg. Victor paused, one might imagine with reluctance, and let old halfling grasp a few greasy feathers. “Your dinner is in your room, my boy,” Horace chirped, fondly patting the creature.
Victor looked toward his pen, wondered briefly whether he was smarter than this little man, and then went in to enjoy his meal, taking care to first remove the arrow expertly shot into the wild pig’s chest.
As the owl bear ate Horace noticed something dangling from Victor's flank. It looked like a piece of bark or a stone. He came closer to get a better look. It was a stone, but not any old thing. It had a beautiful, subtle coloration to it. A leather strap was looped through a small, smooth hole on one edge. Like a necklace. Horace reached out and plucked it from the owl bear. There was a bit of blood spattered on it, but not too much. It was a pretty thing, and so nice of Victor to bring it back for him. As he walked back to his garden Horace absent-mindedly placed the stone in his mouth. It was still warm from Victor and mildly sweet. Pleasantly sweet. Yes, he would keep this. It was a good find.
Shaz catching up with the halfling and half elf you notice a half orc looking at something in the window. Make Int a quick jump you see a droning borne and a boar entangled in weeds and plants. In the back ground you see your reflection as you go up and then down in an unharmed mirror. Behind you you hear a voice...
orak you look up for an instant from Farz as you see something in the background of the shop go up the down.you realize you see yourself in the mirror and someone or thing has jumped beside you.. you hear the voice responding to the group from behind you.....
Horace Flynn is to busy to notice you touch him as you gather your stone and then turn in the direction of the voice...
porter,Flynn,Rasen, As you look back to the voice a gnome runs past you to look at what’s goin on. Y’all look back to the street the human approaches Holding an unlike torch.
Farz breaking free of the entanglement you notice a crazy look in the boars eyes. The boar remains entangled. You hear talking outside..
Orak and Shaz you see the dragon born break free.....
everyone
nightfall is an hour away.
the man approaches he is an older human walking with a limp. His clothing is dull and dirty brown in color a short sword hands from his belt(sheathed) “ I’m not hostile, I tried to shout at you from the roof top to run. You all should escape before the pack returns.Most adventures have fled or died. The mayor is in the town center he is badly wounded.What is going on inside?”
The man walks past the group and looks in the door.
i will be sending out trinket rewards by pm .......
how would you all feel about a Labor Day roll for rewards?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Bllbbrnommonogglererum," Horace says with foreboding, though the words are garbled by the stone in his mouth and he can't keep a string of drool from sliding into his beard. Not sure that the man has heard him, he pulls the stone out of his mouth by the leather and plants his staff into the ground as flamboyantly as he can. "If it is boars' tail, I know a good recipe," he barks, stowing his staff. The old halfling draws his bow and begins scanning the streets.
Trinket story
Escaping his enslavement, Orak set out to find training so that his freedom would not be taken again. On his first day of training, he received a book and a task. His task was simply to write in the book. And once the book was filled, his training would be complete. When he was not receiving physical training from his mentor, he tried to figure out the book and why it would not hold ink. Four years of training and he had not yet managed to write in it, or managed to find any hidden meaning in it. But eventually his physical training was complete and he set out to try to find the meaning of the book. And since then his only goal in life was to figure out the book, and complete his journey.
Oruk (Half-Orc Barbarian) - Soldiers of Vord Three (Human Sorcerer) - Dragons Armies Merzin Quickfoot (Lightfoot Halfling Thief) - Eberron Tales Alpha
DM - Ultimate Adventure
Trinket story
up in the highlands on a spring day, While Flynn was merrily walking along the way. He came upon ruins of a time gone by, crumbling walls reaching towards the sky. He searched the place up and down, and this strange cube was all that he found. Still carrying it till this very day, What is use is though none can say.
bit lame but it is in a bardic rhyme lol
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Trinket story:
When Porter left home, he didn't bring many of his possessions with him, save for his weapons and his Drinking Buddy doll. The doll itself is made of cloth, has no features and smells likes beer, but the scent is not overwhelming.
A Drinking Buddy doll is a piece of merchandise sold at the brewery owned by Porter's father. These dolls are mainly used in drinking contests. Whenever someone enters an inn or a tavern and pulls out their doll, everyone in the room who owns a Drinking Buddy must bring it out and accept a drinking challenge. Drinkers who are on the losing end of a challenge are subject to watching their doll get stabbed with a needle by the person - or people who beat them.
Since he received his Drinking Buddy, Porter has lost many drinking contests and has watched his doll get stabbed by drinkers of all ages, but he doesn't mind. Every needle the doll has received is a memory of a person he's met, and a place he's visited.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Trinket story: Shortly after Shaz first made his pact with his dark benefactor he came across a lone tooth in the road. It didn't look like any creature he had seen before and took it as an omen from Asmodeus himself. Since then he has attempted to compare it to other creatures teeth when possible, pulling teeth from fallen foes or any inebriated individuals he finds passed out in alleyways. He has yet to find a creature that matches, but believes its important for him to keep trying.,
Perception roll: 14
Trinket history:
The Count Guard used whistles to call for each other in case of an emergency The Count, beign a good man despite his bad taste for women, cared about the safety of his city and the guard not only patrolled his castle, but the land and the city behind it. Ostmund Roghkar, the half orc who was the Captain of the guard never knew why, but he had a soft spot with the young half elf that struggled to join the Guard for so many months. Perhaps his mixed heritage, or his stubbornness remind the captain of himself, but when he entered the dungeon below the castle and saw what just had happened he was relieved to see that his faith in the young one wasn’t misplaced. Despite the appearances, he knew that Rasen was innocent and that he had saved not only the Count but probably everyone in the castle. Ostmund knew too, that his siege wouldn’t see that way, for his lord was behaving weird since he met his now deceased third wife. Ostmund always suspected that she was the hand behind the sudden death of the second wife and she had manipulated his Lord to send Ostmund to make the farthest errands she could think of, so he wasn’t around the castle too much in the past months. But he was that night, just arrived for his last assignment and he was looking down his protégée, who was wounded, naked and crying at his love corpse. He knew that the Count will get his head for he will need a lot of time to believe that all that pain was brought by his wive hand. He took Rasen away, cleaned, healed and dressed him, as fast as he could and put him on horseback. It was him who said to Rasen to run as fast and as far as he could. Just before he go away, following an impulse, he gave him his own whistle.
“You will always be part of my guard” he said befor slapping the horse who ran into the night.
Up to this day Rasen has keep that golden whistle from the only true friend he has known.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Shaz will follow the half elf and halfling to see what all the commotion is about.
"Bwaah!" Farz attempts to break out of the entangle
Strength Saving Throw: 20
(Trinket History)
Farz, as one brought up in a monastery, was not one for material possessions. He lives a life of virtues, rather than on monetary gain. However, he does have one item that he keeps hold of, a single glass eye.
The glass eye is a misty white colour with a red iris and small black pupil. The item he received when he was four years of age by a person who was being cared for by the temple. A high elf named Dreluas. While recovering, Farz would like to visit Dreluas. He was a generally sickly child so his presence in the halls of healing was not uncommon. He learnt that the high elf was a diviner and wizard for over two hundred years, who had come under a powerful curse after stopping a great threat, which was what was sapping his life away."This item is for you." He told the young dragonborn, handing it over. "It may not seem like much, but it may serve you when you are big and strong." Dreluas left the temple the following day, though the members of the monastery never saw him leave.
“What a strange group of individuals,” Horace thinks to himself. His nearly dessicated brain, however, rebels and those same words come tumbling from his mouth. The dragonborn, the tiefling, the half-orc, the gnome, the half-elf, the human. He has a sudden longing for his hovel, his swamp, the way the rank rotting smell clings in the stagnant air, the swamp muck squishing between his toes, the legions of creepy-crawlies dangling and squirming from every living and dead thing within sight.
Horace begins rummaging around under his cloak. His fingers crawl in and out of his leather jerkin, checking first his breast pocket, then his waste pocket, then his shoulder pocket, his other waste pocket, a neck pocket, two pockets on his back. He starts to grow frantic, his hands crawling hungrily all over his person like a crowd of beggar children, then in and out of the dozens of pockets sewn into his cloak, twigs and moss rustle loose and drift to the ground, sounds of annoyance and dismay escaping his lips. Until there! There it is! As he hears the words “...now you're doomed”, he turns toward the street and extracts from the 7th hip pocket on the left side a coin-size stone disk, with a small hole threaded by a limp leather loop, dull gray on one side but with a smooth and soothing coloration on the other. He tilts his head toward the approaching man and puts the stone in his mouth, the strap hanging out like reins. A sudden otherworldly sight floods into his mind. For Horace this talisman is a small window, a peephole, through the material plane to the true nature of being. Like the sun driving a spike through the swamp canopy to set alight a patch of mud. The rock, to this old creature, is a mysterious and powerful magic; to the rest of the world, however, it is simply a leaded gemstone, pretty and sweet but poisonous to the mind.
Trinket story:
Horace leaned over a pocked and divided Tupelo stump, tending to his moss farm. The deer moss and tentacle lichen were doing well but the rock tripe looked like… well, it still looked like skunkbird dung but it was small and cracking at the tips. He took a nibble. Yes, definitely something wrong with it. Best to get rid of it. Horace scraped the black crust off the stump and inserted it into his mouth.
His crunching was so loud that he did not hear Victor return. It was the smell that tipped him off. As the 8-foot tall feathered and clawed monstrosity lumbered behind him Horace glanced up, took a sniff, and whirled around with delight.
“Victor! Come here, my sweet boy!” He opened his arms and tried to get a grasp on the beast’s leg. Victor paused, one might imagine with reluctance, and let old halfling grasp a few greasy feathers. “Your dinner is in your room, my boy,” Horace chirped, fondly patting the creature.
Victor looked toward his pen, wondered briefly whether he was smarter than this little man, and then went in to enjoy his meal, taking care to first remove the arrow expertly shot into the wild pig’s chest.
As the owl bear ate Horace noticed something dangling from Victor's flank. It looked like a piece of bark or a stone. He came closer to get a better look. It was a stone, but not any old thing. It had a beautiful, subtle coloration to it. A leather strap was looped through a small, smooth hole on one edge. Like a necklace. Horace reached out and plucked it from the owl bear. There was a bit of blood spattered on it, but not too much. It was a pretty thing, and so nice of Victor to bring it back for him. As he walked back to his garden Horace absent-mindedly placed the stone in his mouth. It was still warm from Victor and mildly sweet. Pleasantly sweet. Yes, he would keep this. It was a good find.
Shaz catching up with the halfling and half elf you notice a half orc looking at something in the window. Make Int a quick jump you see a droning borne and a boar entangled in weeds and plants. In the back ground you see your reflection as you go up and then down in an unharmed mirror. Behind you you hear a voice...
orak you look up for an instant from Farz as you see something in the background of the shop go up the down.you realize you see yourself in the mirror and someone or thing has jumped beside you.. you hear the voice responding to the group from behind you.....
Horace Flynn is to busy to notice you touch him as you gather your stone and then turn in the direction of the voice...
porter,Flynn,Rasen, As you look back to the voice a gnome runs past you to look at what’s goin on. Y’all look back to the street the human approaches Holding an unlike torch.
Farz breaking free of the entanglement you notice a crazy look in the boars eyes. The boar remains entangled. You hear talking outside..
Orak and Shaz you see the dragon born break free.....
everyone
nightfall is an hour away.
the man approaches he is an older human walking with a limp. His clothing is dull and dirty brown in color a short sword hands from his belt(sheathed) “ I’m not hostile, I tried to shout at you from the roof top to run. You all should escape before the pack returns.Most adventures have fled or died. The mayor is in the town center he is badly wounded.What is going on inside?”
The man walks past the group and looks in the door.
i will be sending out trinket rewards by pm .......
how would you all feel about a Labor Day roll for rewards?
"Well we be here now, ken you tell us what is going on?"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Porter looks at the man. "What is this pack you speak of? Does it have to do with the boars?"
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Farz would like to determine if this crazed look may be from sort of disease or poison afflicting the boar.
Medicine: 22
Rasen waits for the man to answer the question of the other two, but keeps an eye on the dragonborn inside and the entangled boar.
"You ok in there big guy?!" he asks to him.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Orak says to the man, We can deal with this, you go help the mayor hide or get out of here. Is there anyone else here?
Intimidation: 9
Oruk (Half-Orc Barbarian) - Soldiers of Vord Three (Human Sorcerer) - Dragons Armies Merzin Quickfoot (Lightfoot Halfling Thief) - Eberron Tales Alpha
DM - Ultimate Adventure
"Bllbbrnommonogglererum," Horace says with foreboding, though the words are garbled by the stone in his mouth and he can't keep a string of drool from sliding into his beard. Not sure that the man has heard him, he pulls the stone out of his mouth by the leather and plants his staff into the ground as flamboyantly as he can. "If it is boars' tail, I know a good recipe," he barks, stowing his staff. The old halfling draws his bow and begins scanning the streets.
Perception: 7
OOC
Looks like I killed the thread. Who's still here?
im still here
Laissez les bons temps rouler
(Still here)
PbP Character: A few ;)
Still here.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.