Kestrell nods, "Thanks again." Then walks towards the Mudhouse. "I could use a drink myself." he mentions to the rest of the group.
Kestrell and the rest of the party takes the short walk around the peat fields and pits, quickly reaching the large, crude barn-like building referred to as the Mudhouse. As you approach, you notice several transport wagons nearby, some of which are loaded with dried peat, stacked, cut and ready for storage or distribution. A couple of workers are carrying loads of the resource between the wagons and the larger, mostly open section of the building.
Around the backside of the building, you hear the laughter and conversation of laborers gathered for leisure. Following the sounds, you soon find yourself in a half-open side area that serves as a rough workers bar. The recreational area is composed of little more than wooden boards atop barrels, with crates and old boxes serving as chairs and stools. Most of the two dozen dirty, sweat stained people here have tankards or bottles in hand and are gathered in a loose semi-circle around a 10 foot deep dirt pit that is ringed by smokey torches, despite the plentiful daylight.
As you draw nearer, you hear the sounds of a long, deep *growl* and short, gruff *snorts* emnating from the pit. At the far end of the earthen recess, a middle-aged halfling woman with wild black hair, a mean smile and a hard-bitten cast to her features stands atop a barrel amidst the crowd of gathered miners and farmers. The woman is flanked by two stout looking, younger halfling men of similar enough appearance to be related. All are dressed in equally coarse clothing, though the two males are covered shoulder-to-heel in long black cloaks with shortbows strung across their shoulders, while the older halfling woman waves a finely made dagger about as she shouts,
"Well come on then, ya mudfackers! Put ya money where ya mouths are! That boar's a tough bastard, no doubt. It gutted Ren's ***** good an' proper like last week. But Donny here has brought his prize mutt today, Seazor, an' she's half-wolf at least, maybe even a little dire by the looks of them eyes and fangs.
So let dear Mother here know ya thoughts and hold ya coin... an' we'll watch ourselves a good show while we get pissed after a hard mornin's work, ehh? Fack yeah! That's right, don't be shy... step on up!"
Many of those gathered around the pit begin handing over small purses of coin while shouting their wagers, which one of the halfing men seems to mark down with a piece of chalk on a slate in his hand.
[OOC] Seems that DDB is now censoring swear words on PbP threads. How rude.
*Apparently settings had been changed on DDB to include the profanity filter being switched on at default. Rectified.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Dewis hackles went up and a certain desire to rip and tear those who would profit from the suffering of others....but she stayed at the side of her companions.
As he wonders the place of colour and excitement, clapping along to jaunty tunes that may be heard laughing at explosive spectacles, "Sylmeris" is taking his time to explore the circus's grounds; admiring flyers, the costumes, laughing at the physical comedy of it all. Even happy to spend a few coins on any snacks and such.
Alwin looks at the sigh in the barn and then around "Sh...ould we allow th...is?" he asks looking at his companions.
"Yes, let's see where it leads!"
Kestrell walks up to the pit to take a look at what is inside. Then walks over to the shouting halfling woman.
Perception what is in the pit, how deep is the pit, can anyone climb out if they wound up in it? 1. Insight How many of those in attendance look like they would fight the party if it comes to blows right here, right now? 1.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Altani tries her best to hide her disgust at what is happening before her. Animals in the natural world would live and hunt and die as part of the cycle of life under the Eternal Blue Sky, as was the will of the gods and goddesses, like Mielikki. But this as not the right way. It was not right at all.
The centaur sniffs at the pit before her eyes lay fixed on those around them. Like before the warrior does as she was trained to do by her father. Measure up the enemy.
Dewis hackles went up and a certain desire to rip and tear those who would profit from the suffering of others....but she stayed at the side of her companions.
More than a few uneasy glances are tossed Wolf-Dewi's way as she approaches with the rest of the party. Noticing and studying you carefully for a few moments, one of the halfling men tiptoes and cups a hand around his mouth to communicate something to the woman standing atop the barrel. The buzz of chatter around the pit and animal noises coming from within start to escalate, but it does not seem that the impending bloodsport has begun yet.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
As he wonders the place of colour and excitement, clapping along to jaunty tunes that may be heard laughing at explosive spectacles, "Sylmeris" is taking his time to explore the circus's grounds; admiring flyers, the costumes, laughing at the physical comedy of it all. Even happy to spend a few coins on any snacks and such.
All in all, just having a whale of a time...
Wandering the grounds around the colourful big domed tent, Sylmeris notes that few townsfolk have gathered nearby yet and that the circus folk are either mostly absent or in the process of preparations rather than engaging with customers. Through the crisp early afternoon air, the sound of sawing, hammering and other industrious noises carry to the town square from the palisade that surrounds Ambersilt.
The exploring half-elf spots a number of animals in cages atop one wagon (three small monkeys in one cage, a half dozen chickens in another and a fierce but despondent looking grey/black moorcat in another, parts of its hide scorched as though by fire), while two small ponies are staked alongside. All up there a four varied looking carriages that strike you as being suitable as living quaters. A massive, stony-skinned figure with block-like features is lifting sizable metal weights near the circus' carts, wagons and trailers.
While there doesn't appear to be anyone selling food or other refreshments in the area, the newly arrived visitor to Ambersilt does locate an especially well drawn poster that seems to depict some of the acts that the circus has to offer - in one corner, a man in a tall black hat wields a whip while a large cat jumps through a ring of fire, the next corner features an image of a strongman lifting a large cat with one hand and a huge box with another, the next corner shows a thickly muscled centaur firing multiple flaming arrows while a small, red-haired figure nimbly sumeraults above his back and the last corner shows a dark, cloaked woman surrounded by purplish mist seated before a glowing crystal orb. The centre of the poster is taken up by a bunch of rainbow coloured musical notes arranged around a shapely, red-skinned woman with flaming wings.
The only other thing of note is a cloaked and hooded figure that you see seated before a small purple tent. Something sits on the small table in front of the figure, but it is covered in a square of deep purple velvet that matches the tablecloth beneath and the colour of the small tent.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Alwin looks at the sigh in the barn and then around "Sh...ould we allow th...is?" he asks looking at his companions.
"Yes, let's see where it leads!"
Kestrell walks up to the pit to take a look at what is inside. Then walks over to the shouting halfling woman.
Perception what is in the pit, how deep is the pit, can anyone climb out if they wound up in it? 1. Insight How many of those in attendance look like they would fight the party if it comes to blows right here, right now? 1.
OOC: HAHAHAHAHA WTF?
It's really hard to say... but someone seems to have carved a dirty limerick into a nearby table. If only you could get the person sitting there to move their plate!
Catching you staring at the crude bar and its patrons, a group of four especially tough looking individuals, who look like off-duty caravan guards rather than local laborers, start to stare back. One of them, a tall, wiry, lean fellow with a patchy red beard and a brass nose ring says aggressively if unimaginatively'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani tries her best to hide her disgust at what is happening before her. Animals in the natural world would live and hunt and die as part of the cycle of life under the Eternal Blue Sky, as was the will of the gods and goddesses, like Mielikki. But this as not the right way. It was not right at all.
The centaur sniffs at the pit before her eyes lay fixed on those around them. Like before the warrior does as she was trained to do by her father. Measure up the enemy.
Altani and her party are clearly starting to get some attention from the locals and others around the crude bar, but most of the attention seems to be directed at Kestrell and Dewi - the former by a quartet of rough looking caravan guards and the latter by the three halflings here. Altani's convincing display of indifference appears to have spared her the attention of those gathered.
Despite being the three smallest people in the place, the ready stances of the halflings, the flashes of scabbards and bulges of quivers beneath their cloaks, as well as the intimidating effect their stares have on most of the other patrons indicates to Altani that they're likely the three most dangerous individuals here, though the well kept weapons and armour of the caravan guards leads the centaur to evaluate them as likely capable fighters also. The rest of the people gathered here look like common workers, though most of these still carry small clubs or daggers.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Kestrell looks up from trying to read the carved rhyme: "What? Oh! Look at that under your plate, I can't quite make out the end. But the beginning is pretty good:
"There once was a half-elf from Leyinthalar, Who liked to view the ladies from afar. Until one day just for fun, He called out 'Hey Hon!' ..."
Kestrell looks up from trying to read the carved rhyme: "What? Oh! Look at that under your plate, I can't quite make out the end. But the beginning is pretty good:
"There once was a half-elf from Leyinthalar, Who liked to view the ladies from afar. Until one day just for fun, He called out 'Hey Hon!' ..."
One of the four chainmail clad guards, a young dwarf with golden curls dangling from his head, cheeks and chin, unthinkingly moves his plate and reads dumbly as he scrunches his eyes in concentration, Would you like to be a theatre star?"
While the dwarf doesn't seem to get it, two of the other off-duty armsman chuckle at the joke, though nose ring doesn't so much as smile, keeping his intense stare locked on Kestrell's face, while his right hand rises from his mug to rest on the leather-bound pommel of the broadsword sheathed at his waist.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Dewi eyeballed the three halflings, letting her other senses tell her what exactly was in the pit.
Perception:
17
Having taken all the bets on offer, the attention of the three halflings turns to whatever is transpiring in the pit. Her gaze sweeping those standing at the edge of the whole, the seeming conductor of the event calls out with her back to you,
"Alright then, your bets are all in. Let's see who put their coin on the winning fighter. Collars off... Ready... FIGHT!"
And with that you hear a louder, throatier *GROWL* followed by the *SNAP* of gnashing jaws, which is answered by deeper *SNORTS* and *GRUNTS*. The *CRASH* of two contesting bodies coming together in the pit is quickly drowned out by the shouts, cheers and jeers of the mostly drunken audience. While you can't see into the pit, the scents of bestial anger, pain and fear reach your enhanced olfactory senses all too well.
[OOC] The pit fight has now started.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
One of the four chainmail clad guards, a young dwarf with golden curls dangling from his head, cheeks and chin, unthinkingly moves his plate and reads dumbly as he scrunches his eyes in concentration, Would you like to be a theatre star?"
While the dwarf doesn't seem to get it, two of the other off-duty armsman chuckle at the joke, though nose ring doesn't so much as smile, keeping his intense stare locked on Kestrell's face, while his right hand rises from his mug to rest on the leather-bound pommel of the broadsword sheathed at his waist.
Kestrell meets the stare of Nose Ring and says "Now that's funny, wouldn't you agree?"
He then takes several steps back away from the table. If Nose Ring lets Kestrell go without further malice, Kestrell turns to the pit at the announcement of the start of the fight. He sees Wolf-Dewi's hackles raised and sees everyone else's attention on the pit. Kestrell casts Silent Image and fills the pit with poisonous snakes, making them look like they are weaving and crawling around the rim of the pit and getting ready to come out before shouting:
"SNAKES!!! EVERYONE RUN!!! OH MY GODS THEY ARE COMING AFTER US!!!"
Kestrell and the rest of the party takes the short walk around the peat fields and pits, quickly reaching the large, crude barn-like building referred to as the Mudhouse. As you approach, you notice several transport wagons nearby, some of which are loaded with dried peat, stacked, cut and ready for storage or distribution. A couple of workers are carrying loads of the resource between the wagons and the larger, mostly open section of the building.
Around the backside of the building, you hear the laughter and conversation of laborers gathered for leisure. Following the sounds, you soon find yourself in a half-open side area that serves as a rough workers bar. The recreational area is composed of little more than wooden boards atop barrels, with crates and old boxes serving as chairs and stools. Most of the two dozen dirty, sweat stained people here have tankards or bottles in hand and are gathered in a loose semi-circle around a 10 foot deep dirt pit that is ringed by smokey torches, despite the plentiful daylight.
As you draw nearer, you hear the sounds of a long, deep *growl* and short, gruff *snorts* emnating from the pit. At the far end of the earthen recess, a middle-aged halfling woman with wild black hair, a mean smile and a hard-bitten cast to her features stands atop a barrel amidst the crowd of gathered miners and farmers. The woman is flanked by two stout looking, younger halfling men of similar enough appearance to be related. All are dressed in equally coarse clothing, though the two males are covered shoulder-to-heel in long black cloaks with shortbows strung across their shoulders, while the older halfling woman waves a finely made dagger about as she shouts,
"Well come on then, ya mudfackers! Put ya money where ya mouths are! That boar's a tough bastard, no doubt. It gutted Ren's ***** good an' proper like last week. But Donny here has brought his prize mutt today, Seazor, an' she's half-wolf at least, maybe even a little dire by the looks of them eyes and fangs.
So let dear Mother here know ya thoughts and hold ya coin... an' we'll watch ourselves a good show while we get pissed after a hard mornin's work, ehh? Fack yeah! That's right, don't be shy... step on up!"
Many of those gathered around the pit begin handing over small purses of coin while shouting their wagers, which one of the halfing men seems to mark down with a piece of chalk on a slate in his hand.
[OOC] Seems that DDB is now censoring swear words on PbP threads. How rude.
*Apparently settings had been changed on DDB to include the profanity filter being switched on at default. Rectified.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Dewis hackles went up and a certain desire to rip and tear those who would profit from the suffering of others....but she stayed at the side of her companions.
As he wonders the place of colour and excitement, clapping along to jaunty tunes that may be heard laughing at explosive spectacles, "Sylmeris" is taking his time to explore the circus's grounds; admiring flyers, the costumes, laughing at the physical comedy of it all. Even happy to spend a few coins on any snacks and such.
All in all, just having a whale of a time...
Alwin looks at the sigh in the barn and then around "Sh...ould we allow th...is?" he asks looking at his companions.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
"Yes, let's see where it leads!"
Kestrell walks up to the pit to take a look at what is inside. Then walks over to the shouting halfling woman.
Perception what is in the pit, how deep is the pit, can anyone climb out if they wound up in it? 1.
Insight How many of those in attendance look like they would fight the party if it comes to blows right here, right now? 1.
OOC: HAHAHAHAHA WTF?
As Kestrell wanders about seemingly oblivious to the world around him Dewi is concerned he might tumble into the pit himself......
Altani tries her best to hide her disgust at what is happening before her. Animals in the natural world would live and hunt and die as part of the cycle of life under the Eternal Blue Sky, as was the will of the gods and goddesses, like Mielikki. But this as not the right way. It was not right at all.
The centaur sniffs at the pit before her eyes lay fixed on those around them. Like before the warrior does as she was trained to do by her father. Measure up the enemy.
OCC:
Deception 14 If needed to hide her disgust
Perception 7 To identify combatants
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Dewi looks up at Altani waiting for a signal to unleash her fury on these scum....
More than a few uneasy glances are tossed Wolf-Dewi's way as she approaches with the rest of the party. Noticing and studying you carefully for a few moments, one of the halfling men tiptoes and cups a hand around his mouth to communicate something to the woman standing atop the barrel. The buzz of chatter around the pit and animal noises coming from within start to escalate, but it does not seem that the impending bloodsport has begun yet.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Wandering the grounds around the colourful big domed tent, Sylmeris notes that few townsfolk have gathered nearby yet and that the circus folk are either mostly absent or in the process of preparations rather than engaging with customers. Through the crisp early afternoon air, the sound of sawing, hammering and other industrious noises carry to the town square from the palisade that surrounds Ambersilt.
The exploring half-elf spots a number of animals in cages atop one wagon (three small monkeys in one cage, a half dozen chickens in another and a fierce but despondent looking grey/black moorcat in another, parts of its hide scorched as though by fire), while two small ponies are staked alongside. All up there a four varied looking carriages that strike you as being suitable as living quaters. A massive, stony-skinned figure with block-like features is lifting sizable metal weights near the circus' carts, wagons and trailers.
While there doesn't appear to be anyone selling food or other refreshments in the area, the newly arrived visitor to Ambersilt does locate an especially well drawn poster that seems to depict some of the acts that the circus has to offer - in one corner, a man in a tall black hat wields a whip while a large cat jumps through a ring of fire, the next corner features an image of a strongman lifting a large cat with one hand and a huge box with another, the next corner shows a thickly muscled centaur firing multiple flaming arrows while a small, red-haired figure nimbly sumeraults above his back and the last corner shows a dark, cloaked woman surrounded by purplish mist seated before a glowing crystal orb. The centre of the poster is taken up by a bunch of rainbow coloured musical notes arranged around a shapely, red-skinned woman with flaming wings.
The only other thing of note is a cloaked and hooded figure that you see seated before a small purple tent. Something sits on the small table in front of the figure, but it is covered in a square of deep purple velvet that matches the tablecloth beneath and the colour of the small tent.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
It's really hard to say... but someone seems to have carved a dirty limerick into a nearby table. If only you could get the person sitting there to move their plate!
Catching you staring at the crude bar and its patrons, a group of four especially tough looking individuals, who look like off-duty caravan guards rather than local laborers, start to stare back. One of them, a tall, wiry, lean fellow with a patchy red beard and a brass nose ring says aggressively if unimaginatively'
"What the **** you lookin' at?!?!"
[OOC] Damn, dude. Snake-eyes! ;)
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Altani and her party are clearly starting to get some attention from the locals and others around the crude bar, but most of the attention seems to be directed at Kestrell and Dewi - the former by a quartet of rough looking caravan guards and the latter by the three halflings here. Altani's convincing display of indifference appears to have spared her the attention of those gathered.
Despite being the three smallest people in the place, the ready stances of the halflings, the flashes of scabbards and bulges of quivers beneath their cloaks, as well as the intimidating effect their stares have on most of the other patrons indicates to Altani that they're likely the three most dangerous individuals here, though the well kept weapons and armour of the caravan guards leads the centaur to evaluate them as likely capable fighters also. The rest of the people gathered here look like common workers, though most of these still carry small clubs or daggers.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Kestrell looks up from trying to read the carved rhyme: "What? Oh! Look at that under your plate, I can't quite make out the end. But the beginning is pretty good:
"There once was a half-elf from Leyinthalar,
Who liked to view the ladies from afar.
Until one day just for fun,
He called out 'Hey Hon!'
..."
One of the four chainmail clad guards, a young dwarf with golden curls dangling from his head, cheeks and chin, unthinkingly moves his plate and reads dumbly as he scrunches his eyes in concentration, Would you like to be a theatre star?"
While the dwarf doesn't seem to get it, two of the other off-duty armsman chuckle at the joke, though nose ring doesn't so much as smile, keeping his intense stare locked on Kestrell's face, while his right hand rises from his mug to rest on the leather-bound pommel of the broadsword sheathed at his waist.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Dewi eyeballed the three halflings, letting her other senses tell her what exactly was in the pit.
Perception:
13
Having taken all the bets on offer, the attention of the three halflings turns to whatever is transpiring in the pit. Her gaze sweeping those standing at the edge of the whole, the seeming conductor of the event calls out with her back to you,
"Alright then, your bets are all in. Let's see who put their coin on the winning fighter. Collars off... Ready... FIGHT!"
And with that you hear a louder, throatier *GROWL* followed by the *SNAP* of gnashing jaws, which is answered by deeper *SNORTS* and *GRUNTS*. The *CRASH* of two contesting bodies coming together in the pit is quickly drowned out by the shouts, cheers and jeers of the mostly drunken audience. While you can't see into the pit, the scents of bestial anger, pain and fear reach your enhanced olfactory senses all too well.
[OOC] The pit fight has now started.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Dewi looked at the others, whining...every fibre of her being wanted to end this NOW....or at least punt the three halflings over the edge.....
Kestrell meets the stare of Nose Ring and says "Now that's funny, wouldn't you agree?"
Persuasion if needed: 21.
He then takes several steps back away from the table. If Nose Ring lets Kestrell go without further malice, Kestrell turns to the pit at the announcement of the start of the fight. He sees Wolf-Dewi's hackles raised and sees everyone else's attention on the pit. Kestrell casts Silent Image and fills the pit with poisonous snakes, making them look like they are weaving and crawling around the rim of the pit and getting ready to come out before shouting:
"SNAKES!!! EVERYONE RUN!!! OH MY GODS THEY ARE COMING AFTER US!!!"
Performance or Intimidation if needed: 24.
Alwin sighs as his hand moves to his sword hilt just in case this goes wrong, unsure of what his companions are trying to do at this moment.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Dewi cannot smell or hear any snakes and assumes this is some trick on Kestrells part.....a small part of her wonders what halfling tastes like....