Milla hands Kyvir several more plates of food, and then a blanket --- a nice picnic, just for you two. Bread, cheese and fruit adorn your meal and refresh you. The silence is deafening for a few minutes, but then, Milla turns to you. "Well, Ky, you going to tell me about anything?" she asks, playful grin on her face. "Or are ye just going to stay quiet the whole time?"
"I'm sorry, I'm not used to talking much about myself... Just used to keeping quiet and helping out.. I suppose I can tell you a little bit about myself.."
Kyvir consumes some bread with cheese on it. He hands a piece of fruit to Ember, but when Ember goes to reach for it, it falls out of Kyvir's hands and through Ember, hitting the ground. This doesn't seem to stop Ember from still attempting to eat it though.
"I can fly... I can turn into all sorts of interesting animals... Well.. Interesting to me... I can talk to Ember here telepathically... I can do all sorts of things, unfortunately, nothing that would benefit us building a well currently.. Maybe besides melt some metal."
A contemplative look comes over Kravik's face. "Were those fae creatures that destroyed my wagon?" He thinks about it a bit and shrugs again. "Possibly. But I'm not ready to lump them all in together. Not yet at least. I came to this town because I'd heard it's a place where mortals and fae lived in peace. That kind of balance really speaks to me, so I wanted to see it for myself, and determine if there was any way I could contribute."
(OOC: Quick retcon changing his cloak out for a long collared over-coat)
Tobias is shocked by the fact that this winged man somehow know his name but he keeps up his performer persona. Tobias says " Well Sir I am shocked that you have heard of me, after all I am just a humble street performer."
Playing off like he thinks the reason this winged man knows his name is because of his street performances even though Tobias knows that is not the case.
Tobias begins to walk around the winged man in a circle and continues "Now I am not sure how thieves operate but could you truly put a price on helping a brother find his sister"?
As I walk around the winged man I want to look at the gear he has on him.
(OOC: Hm. Just seeing if something works on my end. Just to explain [in case you were wondering], errors were being logged whenever I posted. I'll just post this, then edit it.)
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator eat RP run repeat you’re all really cool – know that please coming forth to rebehold the stars extended sig here, check it out!
Kravik, Vulcan, Aydlott --- your food comes as you chat, learning more about each other. You feel a surge of excitement as you discuss things --- from the beasts that attacked Kravik to simple questions about each other, you finally feel as if you're making some friends. Smiling and laughing, you chow down your food. Imperfection is only truly achieved if you're the only one to believe it, after all --- all of your motley traits thrown over your shoulder, you finally enjoy a bit of the day.
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wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator eat RP run repeat you’re all really cool – know that please coming forth to rebehold the stars extended sig here, check it out!
Tobias, as you circle the faerie, his gaze follows you --- the clear-blue eyes fixating upon every detail of your visage. Delicately splaying a palm across his head, he takes on a ponderous image --- face deep-set with lines, contorted, beginning to show signs of sweat. You feel a slight itching in the back of your mind, as if some old thought was coming back up, and he grunts quietly. Then, without warning, he takes his palm off his face and places it upon yours. His eyes take the look of a prophet's, flaring with realization, as he begins to sift through your mind --- you feel the building blocks moving around, thoughts swirling and dancing each and every which way.
(OOC: A WIS save for Tobias to prevent this mental invasion, if wanted. One by one, instead of all three parts together :/)
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator eat RP run repeat you’re all really cool – know that please coming forth to rebehold the stars extended sig here, check it out!
(OOC: Ok. Really weird, but @Beginner_Bots, I'm going to PM my response to you. For some reason yours is the only one that isn't working. I have no idea why, and super sorry --- I'll figure this out soon.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator eat RP run repeat you’re all really cool – know that please coming forth to rebehold the stars extended sig here, check it out!
Oh, great, an idealistic do-gooder...Aydlott's tepid interest in his new companion takes a plunge, but only for a moment, as the drinks and the food arrive. Aydlott's expression brightens noticeably as escape--albeit temporary--finds itself in his grasp once more.
Now Kravik is his best friend, and Vulcan the oldest chum. Clearly this is a man looking to forget his woes by pretending that they aren't there. "I admit I didn't believe the tales myself, when I heard them," he enthuses. "Fae and men living in harmony? It's never happened. And there's probably a dark underbelly to this whole town. Or it's just a fae glamour. Drawing us in. Getting our hopes up. Well, my hopes are up, my good man."
Aydlott leans closer to Kravik, a giddy smile on his face, the scent of the ale already strong on his breath. "I'll tell you something. I'm betrothed. To the most beautiful woman in the world. Oh, she's a real looker! Out of this world! If you take my meaning." He winks. "The only problem is, I have only one more year to come up with a dowry that her father will accept."
Abruptly, Aydlott downs the whole rest of his ale, and slams the mug down, a happy, wistful smile on his face. "Good lads. Where there's hope, there's happiness. Dark underbellies aside, I say we plumb the mysteries of this town!"
Oh, great, an idealistic do-gooder... Aydlott's tepid interest in his new companion takes a plunge, but only for a moment, as the drinks and the food arrive. Aydlott's expression brightens noticeably as escape--albeit temporary--finds itself in his grasp once more.
Now Kravik is his best friend, and Vulcan the oldest chum. Clearly this is a man looking to forget his woes by pretending that they aren't there. "I admit I didn't believe the tales myself, when I heard them," he enthuses. "Fae and men living in harmony? It's never happened. And there's probably a dark underbelly to this whole town. Or it's just a fae glamour. Drawing us in. Getting our hopes up. Well, my hopes are up, my good man."
Aydlott leans closer to Kravik, a giddy smile on his face, the scent of the ale already strong on his breath. "I'll tell you something. I'm betrothed. To the most beautiful woman in the world. Oh, she's a real looker! Out of this world! If you take my meaning." He winks. "The only problem is, I have only one more year to come up with a dowry that her father will accept."
Abruptly, Aydlott downs the whole rest of his ale, and slams the mug down, a happy, wistful smile on his face. "Good lads. Where there's hope, there's happiness. Dark underbellies aside, I say we plumb the mysteries of this town!"
Vulcan smiles slightly. He’s been mostly quiet during this conversation, laughing along occasionally and chiming in with the occasional story before he would eventually pause, realize where he was going, and fall silent. He’s not much of a talker-but he can tell a good story when he’s willing. But most of the stories he has are about himself, the childhood tales his mother told him lost in his memories, and he is unwilling to share those.
“That sounds interesting.” Vulcan says. “Haven’t been here long, but it does seem like the type of place with some secrets to keep. I could use something to do, although movement isn’t ideal. I wonder if there’s a records area nearby…”
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If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
Tobias, as you circle the faerie, his gaze follows you --- the clear-blue eyes fixating upon every detail of your visage. Delicately splaying a palm across his head, he takes on a ponderous image --- face deep-set with lines, contorted, beginning to show signs of sweat. You feel a slight itching in the back of your mind, as if some old thought was coming back up, and he grunts quietly. Then, without warning, he takes his palm off his face and places it upon yours. His eyes take the look of a prophet's, flaring with realization, as he begins to sift through your mind --- you feel the building blocks moving around, thoughts swirling and dancing each and every which way.
(OOC: A WIS save for Tobias to prevent this mental invasion, if wanted. One by one, instead of all three parts together :/)
10 +0 +0 (OOC: is this what you meant by one by one)
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
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Hello! Call me Gato or Mother (Cat in Spanish) My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate. I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic, but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll] I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
OOC
There's another PBP on here I've been involved with where the DM lost the ability to post. Is there a known bug or security feature that would block them?
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
OOC
There's another PBP on here I've been involved with where the DM lost the ability to post. Is there a known bug or security feature that would block them?
*It's a 403 error*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! Call me Gato or Mother (Cat in Spanish) My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate. I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic, but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll] I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
OOC
There's another PBP on here I've been involved with where the DM lost the ability to post. Is there a known bug or security feature that would block them?
*It's a 403 error*
Right, he did say he was getting those. I believe that's what the other DM was getting as well.
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
OOC
There's another PBP on here I've been involved with where the DM lost the ability to post. Is there a known bug or security feature that would block them?
*It's a 403 error*
Right, he did say he was getting those. I believe that's what the other DM was getting as well.
*Yeah, I told them the way that you normally fix it, and it didn't work
I might end up, relaying messages from them, which i am find with*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! Call me Gato or Mother (Cat in Spanish) My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate. I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic, but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll] I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
Oh, great, an idealistic do-gooder... Aydlott's tepid interest in his new companion takes a plunge, but only for a moment, as the drinks and the food arrive. Aydlott's expression brightens noticeably as escape--albeit temporary--finds itself in his grasp once more.
Now Kravik is his best friend, and Vulcan the oldest chum. Clearly this is a man looking to forget his woes by pretending that they aren't there. "I admit I didn't believe the tales myself, when I heard them," he enthuses. "Fae and men living in harmony? It's never happened. And there's probably a dark underbelly to this whole town. Or it's just a fae glamour. Drawing us in. Getting our hopes up. Well, my hopes are up, my good man."
Aydlott leans closer to Kravik, a giddy smile on his face, the scent of the ale already strong on his breath. "I'll tell you something. I'm betrothed. To the most beautiful woman in the world. Oh, she's a real looker! Out of this world! If you take my meaning." He winks. "The only problem is, I have only one more year to come up with a dowry that her father will accept."
Abruptly, Aydlott downs the whole rest of his ale, and slams the mug down, a happy, wistful smile on his face. "Good lads. Where there's hope, there's happiness. Dark underbellies aside, I say we plumb the mysteries of this town!"
Vulcan smiles slightly. He’s been mostly quiet during this conversation, laughing along occasionally and chiming in with the occasional story before he would eventually pause, realize where he was going, and fall silent. He’s not much of a talker-but he can tell a good story when he’s willing. But most of the stories he has are about himself, the childhood tales his mother told him lost in his memories, and he is unwilling to share those.
“That sounds interesting.” Vulcan says. “Haven’t been here long, but it does seem like the type of place with some secrets to keep. I could use something to do, although movement isn’t ideal. I wonder if there’s a records area nearby…”
Kravik watches Aydlott's transformation with bemused interest -- from bitter cynic to enthusiastic companion in the span of a single ale. The mention of an "out of this world" betrothal doesn't escape his notice, nor does the desperate edge beneath the cheer. One year to find a dowry. That's a heavy weight to carry.
He turns his attention to Vulcan, who's been quieter but no less intriguing. Records, secrets... practical concerns from someone who clearly thinks before he speaks.
"I could use coin as well," Kravik admits plainly, no shame in the acknowledgment. "Lost more than my wagon in that attack -- lost the goods I'd planned to sell. But..." He glances between them, a faint smile crossing his broad features. "Perhaps we can help each other. Aydlott needs money for his dowry. Vulcan seeks information. I need work and want to understand how this town maintains its balance."
He leans forward slightly, his scarred hands resting on the table. "We may have different needs but we have a common situation -- we're all new here, all looking for something. Vulcan, if there are records to find, I can help you get there and back. Movement may not be ideal for you, but I've got strength to spare."
His eyes shift to Aydlott. "And if there are mysteries to plumb, as you say, perhaps we'll find opportunities for coin along the way. Work that serves all our purposes."
A pause, then he adds with characteristic caution, "Though I'd suggest we learn what we're walking into before we go diving into any dark underbellies. Balance requires understanding first, action second."
Oh, great, an idealistic do-gooder... Aydlott's tepid interest in his new companion takes a plunge, but only for a moment, as the drinks and the food arrive. Aydlott's expression brightens noticeably as escape--albeit temporary--finds itself in his grasp once more.
Now Kravik is his best friend, and Vulcan the oldest chum. Clearly this is a man looking to forget his woes by pretending that they aren't there. "I admit I didn't believe the tales myself, when I heard them," he enthuses. "Fae and men living in harmony? It's never happened. And there's probably a dark underbelly to this whole town. Or it's just a fae glamour. Drawing us in. Getting our hopes up. Well, my hopes are up, my good man."
Aydlott leans closer to Kravik, a giddy smile on his face, the scent of the ale already strong on his breath. "I'll tell you something. I'm betrothed. To the most beautiful woman in the world. Oh, she's a real looker! Out of this world! If you take my meaning." He winks. "The only problem is, I have only one more year to come up with a dowry that her father will accept."
Abruptly, Aydlott downs the whole rest of his ale, and slams the mug down, a happy, wistful smile on his face. "Good lads. Where there's hope, there's happiness. Dark underbellies aside, I say we plumb the mysteries of this town!"
Vulcan smiles slightly. He’s been mostly quiet during this conversation, laughing along occasionally and chiming in with the occasional story before he would eventually pause, realize where he was going, and fall silent. He’s not much of a talker-but he can tell a good story when he’s willing. But most of the stories he has are about himself, the childhood tales his mother told him lost in his memories, and he is unwilling to share those.
“That sounds interesting.” Vulcan says. “Haven’t been here long, but it does seem like the type of place with some secrets to keep. I could use something to do, although movement isn’t ideal. I wonder if there’s a records area nearby…”
Kravik watches Aydlott's transformation with bemused interest -- from bitter cynic to enthusiastic companion in the span of a single ale. The mention of an "out of this world" betrothal doesn't escape his notice, nor does the desperate edge beneath the cheer. One year to find a dowry. That's a heavy weight to carry.
He turns his attention to Vulcan, who's been quieter but no less intriguing. Records, secrets... practical concerns from someone who clearly thinks before he speaks.
"I could use coin as well," Kravik admits plainly, no shame in the acknowledgment. "Lost more than my wagon in that attack -- lost the goods I'd planned to sell. But..." He glances between them, a faint smile crossing his broad features. "Perhaps we can help each other. Aydlott needs money for his dowry. Vulcan seeks information. I need work and want to understand how this town maintains its balance."
He leans forward slightly, his scarred hands resting on the table. "We may have different needs but we have a common situation -- we're all new here, all looking for something. Vulcan, if there are records to find, I can help you get there and back. Movement may not be ideal for you, but I've got strength to spare."
His eyes shift to Aydlott. "And if there are mysteries to plumb, as you say, perhaps we'll find opportunities for coin along the way. Work that serves all our purposes."
A pause, then he adds with characteristic caution, "Though I'd suggest we learn what we're walking into before we go diving into any dark underbellies. Balance requires understanding first, action second."
“You’re right.” Vulcan says. “I’ve got a bit of coin, enough to support a few for a few days, although I was planning on keeping it for myself. But I will need coin eventually, and what’s better than gaining friends along the way?” He smiles again. “What do you suggest for our goals-finding coin and learning secrets? I suppose talking to the locals might be ideal before we find anything we’re not supposed to…”
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If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
"I will tell you,"Aydlott declares, "from personal experience, that blundering into faerie sanctums is a good way to get killed. However, they are pretty good at hiding things they don't want you to find. We must tread carefully, even in a town where they supposedly live at peace with mortals."He shrugs his shoulders at the mention of earning coin--it's a necessity, it must be done, but years ago, he gave up hope of ever being able to earn enough to pay his dowry--but he lights up once more in camaraderie at Kravik's suggestion that the three of them work together.
"That sounds like a plan to me," Aydlott says, nodding vigorously. "I bet we can fit in here with nary a sidelong glance. Listen to some tales by the fire, take a stroll around the streets, ask some questions. Vulcan, so, you've the talents of a scholar? A scribe? Congratulations on being able to read!"Aydlott pats Vulcan with such serious enthusiasm that one gets the sense he might himself actually be illiterate. "And write, too, I suppose? That's a useful skill, you'll have no trouble. We'll just have to get you a horse to ride, won't we? If it pains you too much to walk."
"And you, Kravik,"Aydlott turns brightly to his other new companion, "you're a merchant, who unfortunately lost your whole investment. I see now why you're thinking of selling your armor! You've only got left the clothes on your back!"He laughs, though not unkindly. "Curse those fae! For you, finding parties who need some goods moved will be key. And for myself..." Some of his vigor fades, and Aydlott shrugs. "I was a guard. A soldier. Not the stuff of either scribe or merchant. Tell you what. Let's ride the countryside and find some farmers who don't want to lose a day in the fields to take their fleeces, or crops, or other goods into town. That'll get you started, Kravik. And Vulcan... well, you can start out by writing down our cost and our profit! And me... well, I'll make sure nobody steals our goods." He nods, and takes another gulp of his ale.
"I will tell you,"Aydlott declares, "from personal experience, that blundering into faerie sanctums is a good way to get killed. However, they are pretty good at hiding things they don't want you to find. We must tread carefully, even in a town where they supposedly live at peace with mortals."He shrugs his shoulders at the mention of earning coin--it's a necessity, it must be done, but years ago, he gave up hope of ever being able to earn enough to pay his dowry--but he lights up once more in camaraderie at Kravik's suggestion that the three of them work together.
"That sounds like a plan to me," Aydlott says, nodding vigorously. "I bet we can fit in here with nary a sidelong glance. Listen to some tales by the fire, take a stroll around the streets, ask some questions. Vulcan, so, you've the talents of a scholar? A scribe? Congratulations on being able to read!"Aydlott pats Vulcan with such serious enthusiasm that one gets the sense he might himself actually be illiterate. "And write, too, I suppose? That's a useful skill, you'll have no trouble. We'll just have to get you a horse to ride, won't we? If it pains you too much to walk."
"And you, Kravik,"Aydlott turns brightly to his other new companion, "you're a merchant, who unfortunately lost your whole investment. I see now why you're thinking of selling your armor! You've only got left the clothes on your back!"He laughs, though not unkindly. "Curse those fae! For you, finding parties who need some goods moved will be key. And for myself..." Some of his vigor fades, and Aydlott shrugs. "I was a guard. A soldier. Not the stuff of either scribe or merchant. Tell you what. Let's ride the countryside and find some farmers who don't want to lose a day in the fields to take their fleeces, or crops, or other goods into town. That'll get you started, Kravik. And Vulcan... well, you can start out by writing down our cost and our profit! And me... well, I'll make sure nobody steals our goods." He nods, and takes another gulp of his ale.
“I’m not exactly a scholar…” Vulcan says. “Lucky, more. There was a school in my village… My parents had coin, we were able to afford the fees to going there.” He sighs. “A horse would be nice, yes, my family used to have an old mule. She passed away, but I always loved spending time with her.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
"I appreciate you both being willing to pool resources," Kravik says, nodding to Vulcan. "And Aydlott, moving goods for farmers sounds like honest work. I can handle myself in a fight if trouble finds us on the road, and I know my way around cargo."
He glances between them. "Should we start by asking around here? The tavern keeper might know which farmers need help, or if there's other work available in town. And Vulcan—" he addresses the older man directly, "—if you're looking for records or information about Lyrey, the town hall might be worth visiting once we've got our bearings."
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"I'm sorry, I'm not used to talking much about myself... Just used to keeping quiet and helping out.. I suppose I can tell you a little bit about myself.."
Kyvir consumes some bread with cheese on it. He hands a piece of fruit to Ember, but when Ember goes to reach for it, it falls out of Kyvir's hands and through Ember, hitting the ground. This doesn't seem to stop Ember from still attempting to eat it though.
"I can fly... I can turn into all sorts of interesting animals... Well.. Interesting to me... I can talk to Ember here telepathically... I can do all sorts of things, unfortunately, nothing that would benefit us building a well currently.. Maybe besides melt some metal."
I don't have a signature.
A contemplative look comes over Kravik's face. "Were those fae creatures that destroyed my wagon?" He thinks about it a bit and shrugs again. "Possibly. But I'm not ready to lump them all in together. Not yet at least. I came to this town because I'd heard it's a place where mortals and fae lived in peace. That kind of balance really speaks to me, so I wanted to see it for myself, and determine if there was any way I could contribute."
(OOC: Quick retcon changing his cloak out for a long collared over-coat)
Tobias is shocked by the fact that this winged man somehow know his name but he keeps up his performer persona. Tobias says " Well Sir I am shocked that you have heard of me, after all I am just a humble street performer."
Playing off like he thinks the reason this winged man knows his name is because of his street performances even though Tobias knows that is not the case.
Tobias begins to walk around the winged man in a circle and continues "Now I am not sure how thieves operate but could you truly put a price on helping a brother find his sister"?
As I walk around the winged man I want to look at the gear he has on him.
(OOC: Hm. Just seeing if something works on my end. Just to explain [in case you were wondering], errors were being logged whenever I posted. I'll just post this, then edit it.)
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
eat RP run repeat
you’re all really cool – know that please
coming forth to rebehold the stars
extended sig here, check it out!
Kravik, Vulcan, Aydlott --- your food comes as you chat, learning more about each other. You feel a surge of excitement as you discuss things --- from the beasts that attacked Kravik to simple questions about each other, you finally feel as if you're making some friends. Smiling and laughing, you chow down your food. Imperfection is only truly achieved if you're the only one to believe it, after all --- all of your motley traits thrown over your shoulder, you finally enjoy a bit of the day.
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
eat RP run repeat
you’re all really cool – know that please
coming forth to rebehold the stars
extended sig here, check it out!
Tobias, as you circle the faerie, his gaze follows you --- the clear-blue eyes fixating upon every detail of your visage. Delicately splaying a palm across his head, he takes on a ponderous image --- face deep-set with lines, contorted, beginning to show signs of sweat. You feel a slight itching in the back of your mind, as if some old thought was coming back up, and he grunts quietly. Then, without warning, he takes his palm off his face and places it upon yours. His eyes take the look of a prophet's, flaring with realization, as he begins to sift through your mind --- you feel the building blocks moving around, thoughts swirling and dancing each and every which way.
(OOC: A WIS save for Tobias to prevent this mental invasion, if wanted. One by one, instead of all three parts together :/)
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
eat RP run repeat
you’re all really cool – know that please
coming forth to rebehold the stars
extended sig here, check it out!
(OOC: Ok. Really weird, but @Beginner_Bots, I'm going to PM my response to you. For some reason yours is the only one that isn't working. I have no idea why, and super sorry --- I'll figure this out soon.)
wes (he/him) – DM, romantic, a little bit eldritch
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
eat RP run repeat
you’re all really cool – know that please
coming forth to rebehold the stars
extended sig here, check it out!
Oh, great, an idealistic do-gooder... Aydlott's tepid interest in his new companion takes a plunge, but only for a moment, as the drinks and the food arrive. Aydlott's expression brightens noticeably as escape--albeit temporary--finds itself in his grasp once more.
Now Kravik is his best friend, and Vulcan the oldest chum. Clearly this is a man looking to forget his woes by pretending that they aren't there. "I admit I didn't believe the tales myself, when I heard them," he enthuses. "Fae and men living in harmony? It's never happened. And there's probably a dark underbelly to this whole town. Or it's just a fae glamour. Drawing us in. Getting our hopes up. Well, my hopes are up, my good man."
Aydlott leans closer to Kravik, a giddy smile on his face, the scent of the ale already strong on his breath. "I'll tell you something. I'm betrothed. To the most beautiful woman in the world. Oh, she's a real looker! Out of this world! If you take my meaning." He winks. "The only problem is, I have only one more year to come up with a dowry that her father will accept."
Abruptly, Aydlott downs the whole rest of his ale, and slams the mug down, a happy, wistful smile on his face. "Good lads. Where there's hope, there's happiness. Dark underbellies aside, I say we plumb the mysteries of this town!"
Vulcan smiles slightly. He’s been mostly quiet during this conversation, laughing along occasionally and chiming in with the occasional story before he would eventually pause, realize where he was going, and fall silent. He’s not much of a talker-but he can tell a good story when he’s willing. But most of the stories he has are about himself, the childhood tales his mother told him lost in his memories, and he is unwilling to share those.
“That sounds interesting.” Vulcan says. “Haven’t been here long, but it does seem like the type of place with some secrets to keep. I could use something to do, although movement isn’t ideal. I wonder if there’s a records area nearby…”
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
Extended Signature!
10 +0 +0 (OOC: is this what you meant by one by one)
*Going to post here,
Wes, the DM of this thread, is having trouble posting on this thread, and they will not be active for the next two days
I believe, correct me if i am wrong*
My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate.
I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic,
but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me
ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
OOC
There's another PBP on here I've been involved with where the DM lost the ability to post. Is there a known bug or security feature that would block them?
*It's a 403 error*
My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate.
I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic,
but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me
ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
Right, he did say he was getting those. I believe that's what the other DM was getting as well.
*Yeah, I told them the way that you normally fix it, and it didn't work
I might end up, relaying messages from them, which i am find with*
My pronouns are They/them, but they can fluctuate.
I am a teenage boy. I have ADHD, Depression, and anxiety. I'm also Genderfluid, Pansexual, and Aromantic,
but this community means the world to me; you cannot change that about me
ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O. 4D8 ATTEMPT:[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]+[roll]1d8[/roll]=[roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
I have adopted Golden and Salem they are my D&D child.
Kravik watches Aydlott's transformation with bemused interest -- from bitter cynic to enthusiastic companion in the span of a single ale. The mention of an "out of this world" betrothal doesn't escape his notice, nor does the desperate edge beneath the cheer. One year to find a dowry. That's a heavy weight to carry.
He turns his attention to Vulcan, who's been quieter but no less intriguing. Records, secrets... practical concerns from someone who clearly thinks before he speaks.
"I could use coin as well," Kravik admits plainly, no shame in the acknowledgment. "Lost more than my wagon in that attack -- lost the goods I'd planned to sell. But..." He glances between them, a faint smile crossing his broad features. "Perhaps we can help each other. Aydlott needs money for his dowry. Vulcan seeks information. I need work and want to understand how this town maintains its balance."
He leans forward slightly, his scarred hands resting on the table. "We may have different needs but we have a common situation -- we're all new here, all looking for something. Vulcan, if there are records to find, I can help you get there and back. Movement may not be ideal for you, but I've got strength to spare."
His eyes shift to Aydlott. "And if there are mysteries to plumb, as you say, perhaps we'll find opportunities for coin along the way. Work that serves all our purposes."
A pause, then he adds with characteristic caution, "Though I'd suggest we learn what we're walking into before we go diving into any dark underbellies. Balance requires understanding first, action second."
“You’re right.” Vulcan says. “I’ve got a bit of coin, enough to support a few for a few days, although I was planning on keeping it for myself. But I will need coin eventually, and what’s better than gaining friends along the way?” He smiles again. “What do you suggest for our goals-finding coin and learning secrets? I suppose talking to the locals might be ideal before we find anything we’re not supposed to…”
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
Extended Signature!
"I will tell you," Aydlott declares, "from personal experience, that blundering into faerie sanctums is a good way to get killed. However, they are pretty good at hiding things they don't want you to find. We must tread carefully, even in a town where they supposedly live at peace with mortals." He shrugs his shoulders at the mention of earning coin--it's a necessity, it must be done, but years ago, he gave up hope of ever being able to earn enough to pay his dowry--but he lights up once more in camaraderie at Kravik's suggestion that the three of them work together.
"That sounds like a plan to me," Aydlott says, nodding vigorously. "I bet we can fit in here with nary a sidelong glance. Listen to some tales by the fire, take a stroll around the streets, ask some questions. Vulcan, so, you've the talents of a scholar? A scribe? Congratulations on being able to read!" Aydlott pats Vulcan with such serious enthusiasm that one gets the sense he might himself actually be illiterate. "And write, too, I suppose? That's a useful skill, you'll have no trouble. We'll just have to get you a horse to ride, won't we? If it pains you too much to walk."
"And you, Kravik," Aydlott turns brightly to his other new companion, "you're a merchant, who unfortunately lost your whole investment. I see now why you're thinking of selling your armor! You've only got left the clothes on your back!" He laughs, though not unkindly. "Curse those fae! For you, finding parties who need some goods moved will be key. And for myself..." Some of his vigor fades, and Aydlott shrugs. "I was a guard. A soldier. Not the stuff of either scribe or merchant. Tell you what. Let's ride the countryside and find some farmers who don't want to lose a day in the fields to take their fleeces, or crops, or other goods into town. That'll get you started, Kravik. And Vulcan... well, you can start out by writing down our cost and our profit! And me... well, I'll make sure nobody steals our goods." He nods, and takes another gulp of his ale.
“I’m not exactly a scholar…” Vulcan says. “Lucky, more. There was a school in my village… My parents had coin, we were able to afford the fees to going there.” He sighs. “A horse would be nice, yes, my family used to have an old mule. She passed away, but I always loved spending time with her.”
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me!
Extended Signature!
"I appreciate you both being willing to pool resources," Kravik says, nodding to Vulcan. "And Aydlott, moving goods for farmers sounds like honest work. I can handle myself in a fight if trouble finds us on the road, and I know my way around cargo."
He glances between them. "Should we start by asking around here? The tavern keeper might know which farmers need help, or if there's other work available in town. And Vulcan—" he addresses the older man directly, "—if you're looking for records or information about Lyrey, the town hall might be worth visiting once we've got our bearings."