Seems a man can make a life for himself out here, or least a ways get a fair shake at it. I came out here to take my shot, so ya speak. See the country while I’m at it.
Winter Quarters Outpost was originally an Atzian Orthodox Missionary House built on top of a short plateau. The original Missionary House, made out of adobe, can still be seen and is used as a Military Headquarters now. These Headquarters are largely used for paperwork and message distribution throughout the Unorganized Territory and actual combat ready soldiers rarely come here. Homes for Civilian Contractors, Quarters for the Warrant Officers, and a small service industry was built around the base of the plateau. There's not much, but a Saloon, Hostel, Civilian Armory, and a General Store are all easily visible from where the Train stopped.
Vitotakes a big pull from his cigar and blows out smoke from the side of his mouth."Look there gents," Vito says pointing at the Saloon. "Let's go wet our whiskers before we have to get back on this damned machine." Vito starts to make his way towards the saloon and speaks to Heck and Eugene, "well, gentlemen, I guess you can say I came here for a fresh new start. The gods gave us this land to settle and I figure I do my part and help."
"The Gods are all but different manifestations an' interpretations of the Holy Light my friend, an' as far as I'm concerned It turned It's gaze what proper away from the west long ago,"Dobbs remarks in return. "Fresh starts I have a respect for, lo, in my failed life in preaching I take upon two final charges."He approaches the saloon, pushing the double-doors in confidently.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
Thick smoke and the smell of tobacco fill the air. There are 10 tables with a total of around 30 or so patrons throughout the Saloon. Some eyes twitch in response to hearing you come in, but no one turns to look at you. It seems a lot of people came through recently. The nearest Table has a Dice Game going on. There's a Female Elf on the Piano playing a soft tune, probably some classical music; a plain looking Human Waitress is taking orders at the farthest table; and a gigantic burly Orc Bartender is behind the counter cleaning glasses. "You folks get waylaid too?" The Orc asks in perfect Pictish.
Vito
Orc doesn't use the same structure as Pictish with prepositions. This Orc has likely lived his entire life with Humans.
Indeed we did, barkeep, a little altercation with a dragon. And a body can work up a powerful thirst putting holes in a dragon. Heck looks around the room to see if his words are landing. A giant blue dragon, big as a damn barn shooting bolts of lightning and snatching people up as easy as you please. Luckily, Slick, Eugene, and myself were there to leap into action and get the cannons blasting and the ol gattling gun fired up.
The majority of the room looks somewhat embarrassed as Heck mentions the group having helped with the Dragon Attack. The Orc Bartender strokes his clean shaven chin before pouring the group shots of Whiskey, "I'm not saying that your lying friend, but I was there when the Blue Dragon of Whiterock attacked the Outpost, and I was there when the Military dragged its corpse back in. Are you sure it was a Dragon?"
Heck
"Did you get a corpse, Heck? If you did shove it in this guy's face."
((The "Blue Dragon of Whiterock" being ostensibly the last dragon to be killed years ago?))
Dobbs leans toward Heck with a chuckle, "Y'know, on second thought I kinda like 'Preach', but only from you, yeh hear?" His nose glows red over his bushy mustache, unused as he is to attention away from the pulpit, and cooly meets the bartender's eye. "I've wasted too many years o' my life preachin' my sermons o' self-evident truth onto deaf ears ter waste more breath. Don't believe us? Falk! Heck! How many other people you reckon were on that train what saw that scaly beast an' didn't help us?"He asks this in a loud voice, as if not really directing the question towards his companions, before continuing to the bartender in normal tones. "Ask one o' them, barkeep, and make my next a double."He drains his shot, pointedly ignoring any looks.
After a few moments, several patrons nod in embarrassed agreement. "I meant no disrespect," the Bartender appologizes as he gives Eugene a double shot, "and I don't think your the type of folks to lie. A few of the other patrons have mentioned a Dragon as well. It's just... something about this seems off." He points above the entrance where the head of a Blue Dragon is mounted. The head is different from the one of the Dragon you fought. It's larger, several of the scales are grey or greying, and it has a large horn above its snout which the Dragon you fought most certainly did not. "There are definitely still Dragons living," the Bartender continues, "but it's only been a year. Why has a new one come so soon, and why is it attacking a Train?"
You tell me, barkeep, it was a big blue lizard with wings, I watched it snatch two goblins off the top of a moving train and blow the damn wheels out with it’s lightning breath. If there’s anything else around here that can do that kinda shit I’d appreciate the heads up about it, I’ll keep my ass indoors. Heck tips his hat back and sips his whiskey.
DM
I would have, but the damn thing got away. Not before I put a few extra holes in it, mind you.
"Shit," Sidewinder sighs, seeming to surprisingly give more care than usual, which is usually none. "Well if you see it again, try to make sure it doesn't survive next time."
Dobbs look back at the dragon bust before leaning forward conspiratorially as he takes the glass of whiskey, tipping it to the bartender. "Yeh wouldn't happen ter know if there was anything...particular...about this train? Any cargo, passengers, anything at all what could've marked this iron horse as different?"
((What does Eugene know about the temperaments/nature of blue dragons, and if applicable what would I need to roll?))
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
((Since your trying to figure out what you know about the nature of a creature in the nature, you would roll a Nature Roll. Does that count as a Dad joke? In this case I wouldn't give you any knowledge automatically since your background doesn't fit, so it's purely a Roll and hope for luck))
The Bartender shakes his head, "I wouldn't know anything specific about this Train. At least, I didn't hear any rumors about it. The last Train however..." The Bartender pauses, obviously unsure about how to say it, "had an... interesting lady on board." He looks down wistfully at the row of used glasses in front of him, "People don't really come here by choice nowadays. Their either heading to the coast or Jamestown, but not this lady." He then looks back up, leans in, and begins to whisper, "So this Drow Witch - I'm not being insulting, an actual, magical, spirits and stuff, Witch - she goes to the Train station and pays them a huge sum of money to specifically stop here. Now, the Transcontinental takes a while to go back and forth, so she's been here a little over a week. Oh she's come in this Saloon alright, never bought a drink, but she was here more than once, and asked me plenty of questions. Every once in a while she'd work some magic. Nobody's gotten hurt, so the Warrant Officers don't tell her to leave. One time she did this little thing that looked like she was making glasses with her fingers and then she just sat there staring at the Dragon Head for what felt like an Hour. She's trying something, but I have no idea what it is. Every time I ask one of the Magically inclined Officers what the hell she's doing, they laugh and say 'chasing rumors and spirits'. By this point I've long sense stopped feeling any dread about her and I just want to know what's going on, but everyone that could tell me thinks it's too funny to say!"
((Roughly how old in appearance are Heck & Vito?))
"Black soddin' damn, ne'er thought I'd have ter deal with another witch..."Dobbs mutters darkly before turning to Heck with a chuckle. "Yeh don' seem to attuned ter the arcane, friend. It sounds ter me like this dark elf was using her fingers fer the components o' some sorta spell o' scryin' or summat. Can't be too sure, she could just be a crazy. All the same..."he strokes his mustache thoughtfully. "It IS a mighty strange coincidence." He turns and sips his whisky, addressing the bartender. "Yeh wouldn't happen to know where that sorta shady figure might be found 'round these parts? Or anyone else what might know?"
((Nope, jsmall is correct, that's exactly what I meant))
"I'm afraid I wouldn't," the Bartender straightens himself up and shakes his head, "that crazy lady could literally be anywhere right now. There doesn't seem to be any rime nor reason to what she's doing. I can tell you some of the question or comments she's said, but other than that, I'm at a loss."
Heck
Sidewinder scoffs, "Really? Making Dragons out of glass? Not likely. It's not impossible and there did used to be such a thing as Glass Dragons, but no, I doubt that's what's going on." Sidewinder starts talking in a mocking Drow accent, "It's alla 'bout da spirits, mon. Dhere be some bad juju - or something like that, I bet."
((What is Eugene making a History check about, Dragons or Drow Witches?))
Seems a man can make a life for himself out here, or least a ways get a fair shake at it. I came out here to take my shot, so ya speak. See the country while I’m at it.
Winter Quarters Outpost was originally an Atzian Orthodox Missionary House built on top of a short plateau. The original Missionary House, made out of adobe, can still be seen and is used as a Military Headquarters now. These Headquarters are largely used for paperwork and message distribution throughout the Unorganized Territory and actual combat ready soldiers rarely come here. Homes for Civilian Contractors, Quarters for the Warrant Officers, and a small service industry was built around the base of the plateau. There's not much, but a Saloon, Hostel, Civilian Armory, and a General Store are all easily visible from where the Train stopped.
Vito takes a big pull from his cigar and blows out smoke from the side of his mouth. "Look there gents," Vito says pointing at the Saloon. "Let's go wet our whiskers before we have to get back on this damned machine." Vito starts to make his way towards the saloon and speaks to Heck and Eugene, "well, gentlemen, I guess you can say I came here for a fresh new start. The gods gave us this land to settle and I figure I do my part and help."
I wouldn’t mind stopping by that armory either. But hells yes let’s go to the saloon. Shooting dragons is thirsty work.
"The Gods are all but different manifestations an' interpretations of the Holy Light my friend, an' as far as I'm concerned It turned It's gaze what proper away from the west long ago," Dobbs remarks in return. "Fresh starts I have a respect for, lo, in my failed life in preaching I take upon two final charges." He approaches the saloon, pushing the double-doors in confidently.
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
Thick smoke and the smell of tobacco fill the air. There are 10 tables with a total of around 30 or so patrons throughout the Saloon. Some eyes twitch in response to hearing you come in, but no one turns to look at you. It seems a lot of people came through recently. The nearest Table has a Dice Game going on. There's a Female Elf on the Piano playing a soft tune, probably some classical music; a plain looking Human Waitress is taking orders at the farthest table; and a gigantic burly Orc Bartender is behind the counter cleaning glasses. "You folks get waylaid too?" The Orc asks in perfect Pictish.
Vito
Orc doesn't use the same structure as Pictish with prepositions. This Orc has likely lived his entire life with Humans.
Indeed we did, barkeep, a little altercation with a dragon. And a body can work up a powerful thirst putting holes in a dragon. Heck looks around the room to see if his words are landing. A giant blue dragon, big as a damn barn shooting bolts of lightning and snatching people up as easy as you please. Luckily, Slick, Eugene, and myself were there to leap into action and get the cannons blasting and the ol gattling gun fired up.
The majority of the room looks somewhat embarrassed as Heck mentions the group having helped with the Dragon Attack. The Orc Bartender strokes his clean shaven chin before pouring the group shots of Whiskey, "I'm not saying that your lying friend, but I was there when the Blue Dragon of Whiterock attacked the Outpost, and I was there when the Military dragged its corpse back in. Are you sure it was a Dragon?"
Heck
"Did you get a corpse, Heck? If you did shove it in this guy's face."
((The "Blue Dragon of Whiterock" being ostensibly the last dragon to be killed years ago?))
Dobbs leans toward Heck with a chuckle, "Y'know, on second thought I kinda like 'Preach', but only from you, yeh hear?" His nose glows red over his bushy mustache, unused as he is to attention away from the pulpit, and cooly meets the bartender's eye. "I've wasted too many years o' my life preachin' my sermons o' self-evident truth onto deaf ears ter waste more breath. Don't believe us? Falk! Heck! How many other people you reckon were on that train what saw that scaly beast an' didn't help us?" He asks this in a loud voice, as if not really directing the question towards his companions, before continuing to the bartender in normal tones. "Ask one o' them, barkeep, and make my next a double." He drains his shot, pointedly ignoring any looks.
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
After a few moments, several patrons nod in embarrassed agreement. "I meant no disrespect," the Bartender appologizes as he gives Eugene a double shot, "and I don't think your the type of folks to lie. A few of the other patrons have mentioned a Dragon as well. It's just... something about this seems off." He points above the entrance where the head of a Blue Dragon is mounted. The head is different from the one of the Dragon you fought. It's larger, several of the scales are grey or greying, and it has a large horn above its snout which the Dragon you fought most certainly did not. "There are definitely still Dragons living," the Bartender continues, "but it's only been a year. Why has a new one come so soon, and why is it attacking a Train?"
You tell me, barkeep, it was a big blue lizard with wings, I watched it snatch two goblins off the top of a moving train and blow the damn wheels out with it’s lightning breath. If there’s anything else around here that can do that kinda shit I’d appreciate the heads up about it, I’ll keep my ass indoors. Heck tips his hat back and sips his whiskey.
DM
I would have, but the damn thing got away. Not before I put a few extra holes in it, mind you.
Heck
"Shit," Sidewinder sighs, seeming to surprisingly give more care than usual, which is usually none. "Well if you see it again, try to make sure it doesn't survive next time."
Dobbs look back at the dragon bust before leaning forward conspiratorially as he takes the glass of whiskey, tipping it to the bartender. "Yeh wouldn't happen ter know if there was anything...particular...about this train? Any cargo, passengers, anything at all what could've marked this iron horse as different?"
((What does Eugene know about the temperaments/nature of blue dragons, and if applicable what would I need to roll?))
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
((Since your trying to figure out what you know about the nature of a creature in the nature, you would roll a Nature Roll. Does that count as a Dad joke? In this case I wouldn't give you any knowledge automatically since your background doesn't fit, so it's purely a Roll and hope for luck))
The Bartender shakes his head, "I wouldn't know anything specific about this Train. At least, I didn't hear any rumors about it. The last Train however..." The Bartender pauses, obviously unsure about how to say it, "had an... interesting lady on board." He looks down wistfully at the row of used glasses in front of him, "People don't really come here by choice nowadays. Their either heading to the coast or Jamestown, but not this lady." He then looks back up, leans in, and begins to whisper, "So this Drow Witch - I'm not being insulting, an actual, magical, spirits and stuff, Witch - she goes to the Train station and pays them a huge sum of money to specifically stop here. Now, the Transcontinental takes a while to go back and forth, so she's been here a little over a week. Oh she's come in this Saloon alright, never bought a drink, but she was here more than once, and asked me plenty of questions. Every once in a while she'd work some magic. Nobody's gotten hurt, so the Warrant Officers don't tell her to leave. One time she did this little thing that looked like she was making glasses with her fingers and then she just sat there staring at the Dragon Head for what felt like an Hour. She's trying something, but I have no idea what it is. Every time I ask one of the Magically inclined Officers what the hell she's doing, they laugh and say 'chasing rumors and spirits'. By this point I've long sense stopped feeling any dread about her and I just want to know what's going on, but everyone that could tell me thinks it's too funny to say!"
This lady drow witch was making glasses? Like real glasses? You don’t think she made the dragon, do you? Could she do that? With magic, I mean?
DM
Sidewinder, you still there? You ever hear about anything like that? Drow Magic making things? Glasses, dragons, glass dragons?
That wasn’t a glass dragon we saw was it? Nah, we shot the shit out of it... did anybody see the thing bleed?
((History: 4. Idk if this is what you had in mind, but I'm picturing a drow just sitting there doing this.))
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
((Hahaha oh god that’s amazing.))
((Roughly how old in appearance are Heck & Vito?))
"Black soddin' damn, ne'er thought I'd have ter deal with another witch..." Dobbs mutters darkly before turning to Heck with a chuckle. "Yeh don' seem to attuned ter the arcane, friend. It sounds ter me like this dark elf was using her fingers fer the components o' some sorta spell o' scryin' or summat. Can't be too sure, she could just be a crazy. All the same..." he strokes his mustache thoughtfully. "It IS a mighty strange coincidence." He turns and sips his whisky, addressing the bartender. "Yeh wouldn't happen to know where that sorta shady figure might be found 'round these parts? Or anyone else what might know?"
Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 4/bard 1 ● Thorok Earthhand, hill dwarf mountain druid 6/grave cleric 2
Cragmyre Ironseed, earth genasi ancestral barbarian 3 ● Cyrus Natriallae, aquatic half-elf warlock of the deep 3
((Heck looks to be in his early 30’s))
((Nope, jsmall is correct, that's exactly what I meant))
"I'm afraid I wouldn't," the Bartender straightens himself up and shakes his head, "that crazy lady could literally be anywhere right now. There doesn't seem to be any rime nor reason to what she's doing. I can tell you some of the question or comments she's said, but other than that, I'm at a loss."
Heck
Sidewinder scoffs, "Really? Making Dragons out of glass? Not likely. It's not impossible and there did used to be such a thing as Glass Dragons, but no, I doubt that's what's going on." Sidewinder starts talking in a mocking Drow accent, "It's alla 'bout da spirits, mon. Dhere be some bad juju - or something like that, I bet."
((What is Eugene making a History check about, Dragons or Drow Witches?))