After over a thousand years without a sighting or any credible evidence, dragons were thought to be either extinct or creatures only of myth. Now, though, everyone across the continent of Iewiuf knows they are very real. A few months back, at the tail end of Ilsa, as Autumn was fully settled into the forest, Alderanyë was suddenly and viciously attacked by an entire army of dragons. Some of the dragons were exactly like in the old stories, huge, chromatic colored, scaled, serpent-like creatures with long necks, long tails, four clawed feet and leathery wings that blot out the sun. Some, though, were humanoid creatures, walking around on two legs, still scaled, colored in chromatic colors just like their sky-riding kin. This combined army landed on the shores of Alderanyë wholly unbeknownst to the Elven monarchy, and quickly overwhelmed their capital city, Citadel Aldel. Rumors of the invasion, and of the potential threat to every nation, since all nations across Eafphqu had a healthy respect for the Elves’ ability to wage war when called upon, quickly spread like wildfire across the continent. The Republic of Byrthelm began evacuating its outlying cities and towns and sending troops to all their fortified cities. Some citizens in an overabundance of caution left everything behind to move to Tradebay City, as it was thought to be too far away from the Elven Queendom to be in any immediate danger. The Highland kingdom started marshaling the clans for war, and shoring up their defenses throughout the kingdom. As of yet, though, the dragon army has done nothing aggressive outside of the Marwood. Because the dragon army has stayed in Elven lands, the dragonborn, the name the peoples have started using for the humanoid dragon people, have started to become accepted within society. They travel freely about Iewiuf engaging in trade, securing employment, and, yes, even making friends with many of the other races. However, for obvious reasons, many elves who fled from the Marwood for safety, and who now also travel about and live among the other nations and peoples, harbor a deep distrust and even hatred for the dragonborn. Many a barfight has happened for no other reason than dragonborn and elves were in the same place at the same time and tempers flared.
There are rumors among the more informed citizens of every land that the reason the dragon army hasn’t moved onto attempting to conquer other lands is because they are searching for some artifact or artifacts of immense power. Some of those rumors say that the dragons are trying to bring their goddess Kraiula to the material plane so that she can lead her children to their rightful place as the rulers of all the world. These rumors are furthered by the number of Kraiulan religious zealots that are now encountered all over Iewiuf, as well as the number of dragonborn adventuring parties that show up at ancient historical sites. There are also rumors that owing to how quickly and almost bloodlessly the dragon army was able to overcome the elves that they must have had help from the inside.
Thus the continent of Iewiuf exists in a near constant state of heightened tension, a land that seems on the precipice of a war that could encompass the world. Add to that the blanket of winter that covers all but the most extreme southern regions of the continent, and it’s clear that now is a dangerous time to try and survive in the wildernesses of Iewiuf.
Even so, some still do. Hermits, hunters be they hunters of big game trophies, bounties, or treasure, guides, and traveling merchants. Point being, there are still people who brave the wintry wilds for various reasons. Among such groups, there is a widely recognized celebration day among the days of winter, it is the day that the moon Sylgja, revered among the Elves, revered among farmers, and the moon that marks the time when winter has rounded the bend to spring, is finally full. That day is always cause for celebration, and many of even the smallest hamlets and villages throw a party, no matter how meager, to celebrate. In the year of Republic Reckoning 147, the day of Sylgja’s celebration of fullness happened to fall on the 23rd of the month of Oglug on a Zoguday, and the town of Hyssop Ridge, a town on the extreme northwestern edge of King Haedwulf’s Highland kingdom, nestled in the Grumorjak Mountains almost a full week’s walk to the River Amryn, welcomed many wanderers to town with the promise of flowing mead, music, dancing and revelry.
Thus it was that a group of people who usually kept to themselves, kept away from civilization, kept wandering the trails of The Wandering Pass and all the byways that adjoined it, found themselves drawn to the warmth and sound. A massive bonfire was set up on a muddy, snowy hillock just west of the town's northernmost, and best by all regards, inn, the Silver Feather. The Feather’s main doors were wide open with heat, light, and the noise of joyous fun spilling out into the world around.
Thus it was, as cliche as it sounds, that many strangers came to meet in the common room of an inn, the Silver Feather inn, to be exact. They came from wandering their solitary trails, hunting their solitary hunts, and chasing their solitary choices to have a warm meal, some raucous company, and to celebrate the end of another winter.
Though the Feather’s common room was packed to the rafters and walls, no one begrudged anyone else their entry, making room as needed, and as it happened, there was one corner booth left with room. Perhaps that booth was still all but empty because its lone occupant was a dragonborn. Though the dragonborn weren’t terribly common anywhere outside of the Marwood they’d conquered of late, they also weren’t all that rare to see, though perhaps just here in Hyssop Ridge they were. Regardless, the red scaled dragon man in the corner booth sat drinking a tall stone tankard of mead, and looking about for friends. As yet none had screwed up enough courage to approach him, but perhaps, as other wanderers enter the inn, that would change?
Zanoth was tired from the road, and tired from the nagging of his ever-present travelling companion Lucky… he could hear it now “A bed, cooked food, ale”. You’d think Halflings were 10 ft. tall from the amount of food they ate. But they were here now, hopefully, the Silver Feather Inn would be more welcoming than the last. (Lucky still had to explain why the innkeeper had kicked them out). But he agreed, a bed and some good food would be welcome for a change, and maybe some coin to be had; He was getting low and was not used to needing money to live.
Looking around for somewhere to sit, he saw the place was full.; a bunch of wimpy Humans at a few tables, a lone Elf, a couple of others deep in the shadows of their hoods, nobody interesting.
But what was that in the corner… a Dragonborn? Surely not... He’d heard they had reappeared in the world, but he hadn’t met one yet, and he knew how it was to “stand out” in a crowd; others often gave him a wide berth simply because of how he looked.
Nodding towards the booth and then speaking quietly to Lucky "Want to see what he's about? Maybe a mark, maybe a friend, maybe a foe.. better than these other boring lot"
/OOC Assuming we are going ahead with Lucky and I as travelling companions.
An odd pair walk onto town heading for the inn. Lucky has a gleam of mischief in his eye. The past few days on the road where rough and he let Zanoth know constantly. Especially after he had to start skipping elevenses and afternoon tea. He thinks ah finally an inn with real food, ale, and maybe another inn keepers daughter... Lucky smiles.
Walking in the tavern with Zanoth, Lucky looks around before climbing up on his friend's shoulder, to better hear him speak.
Who the lizard in the corner... Mark be a stretch... He looks about as broke as we are. But a friend, ya he could be... a good distraction and if he's a rival. It will be good to know who else is in town. Head on over I'll get us some ale and food. I'm sure I can find a coin or two on the way as well.
Lucky chuckes at his joke.
Climbing down Lucky will head to the Bar picking a few pockets on the way to pay for the ale and food.
In walks a tall man with long red hair and a dark beard wearing deerskin trousers and shirt. His chest has a strip of thick cloth wrapped over one shoulder and around his torso and waist in the style of the Highland Realm, but the rest is more eclectic.
He carries a gladius of the Republic on his hip, and a mattock - favored of the Plains people- on his back, but in his hands is a tall, stout longbow, identifying him as one of the Archers of the Order of the Wild.
He stomps his boots to shake off a bit of the snow as he enters and then heads straight for the bar, eyes immediately drawn to the Dragonborn who stands out like an orc at a baby shower. He doesn't bother to hide his stares. Once he has a drink in hand, he looks around and sees there are no other places to sit. He sighs, straightens up and heads for the table.
He extends a hand. "Mills. Mills Gorecreek. Ain't nobody's a stranger today, even a Kraiulan followin' Dragonborn like yersef."
Drax watches the newcomers warily. They keep glancing his direction, making him nervous. He pull his cloak closer to his body, and takes a drink of his tea. He never had been one for alcohol, and he always managed to get the innkeeper to serve him tea, In the end.
Hmm. The tea was cold. He blew a jet of flame from his nostrils, quickly warming it back up.
Suddenly, a red hair covered man walks up, extending his hand. Drax subtly nudges, and motions at the greataxe that lays beside him.
You may sit. But I don't do the.... Hand touching custom of your kind, Drax says in a low, rumbling voice. He takes another sip of tea.
Drax wrinkles his nose as the overzealous halfling (correct me if I'm wrong) sits beside him.
Just moving through. Don't want any trouble. Don't tend to stay in one place for long, I seem to attract attention everywhere I go, be it positive or negative, Drax replies in a wary tone.
Goraqull gets up from his table in the Silver Feather wearing elegant looking clothes that have seen better days. He is tall and slender. He walks confidently shoulders back with the use of an ornate walking stick. He does not slouch. He has a natural grace to his walk giving those that see him a sense he is not a common elf despite his ragged clothing. He sees the Dragonborn staring at a red head, while 2 others insert themselves to the conversation. He decides to saunter over to the table with the Dragonborn and interrupt whatever they were talking about. "I am Goraqull. It seems to me you are not a part of the army of Dragonborn that has attacked the elves of this land and you young one I am not sure of.... A human yes, but why speak to the Dragonborn. Curious....Then a halfling and a mixed being...interesting...I see features of several species.....Why do you walk over? Perhaps a pair of brigands making a mark or perhaps you too need companions? May I sit?" He doesn't wait and sits "I am....looking for travelers...to help me learn about these lands so that I may return home in exchange for my services as a Druid..." He looks at the Dragonborn as he finishes speaking on trouble "Trouble is subjective I find. Perhaps as a Dragonborn wandering by themself trouble will find you.
A hint of distrust creeps into his voice at being so directly addressed by an elf. Especially one that seems to speak without any hatred towards him.
I am.... Interested, to say the least. I have learned since I left Alderanyë that nothing is ever fully as it seems on the outside.
He looks each of the others in the eye as he says this.
I intend to soon retire to my chambers. I propose that we discuss this further in the morn, after a good night's rest. (Tem can I already have like, a place to stay the night at the silver feather?)
He looks around, as if silently asking of anyone has any last questions for him.
Mills looks between Goraqull and Drax. "Whoa there... I'm no merchant, but I'm pretty sure a drink or something is still perty customary 'fore talkin' business. Not an accusation of bein' a bandit - accusin' o' lookin' to roll somebody on Winter's Feast."
"And whether you shake hands or not- which is mighty impolite- a man offers you his name, you give yours in return."
"Now everybody reach deep down in their pockets and find their manners, 'n' we can start over."
Goraquell watches the halfling eat like they haven't seen food in a week. He looks around at others eating and notices some use their hands, others use utensils, others drink from bowls, a few use their daggers. The halfling does a little of them all. Goraquell watches the halfling with disgust. He turns his head to address the rest "I do not want any of you to work for me, but to simply to allow me to accompany you on your travels to, as I said, learn the customs, traditions, culture, history, etc. etc. of these lands. In return, I offer my services as a Druid. You seem like a......well no matter what you look like...." Goraquell turns his attention to Mills "I suppose my first lesson is greetings. In these lands you extend hands and do what?" Goraquell extends his hand to Mills
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Mills gives Goraqull a big, way-too-hard handshake. "There, just like that. You'll have it down in no time. Now, I do a fair bit of travelin' what with being in the Order of the Wild, patrollin' the borders for... Suspicious types. And I've seen druids at work. A sight to see, powerful stuff. Happy to have some company, I s'pose."
As the halfling wraps up his introduction - one that gives Mills a feeling of deja vu, and an inexplicable impulse to say "fong" - he eyes the one, the only...
"Did you say 'Sir Zanoth von Saxou of the Plains? Wasn't aware they had any knights out there."
Please accept.. my apologies... I don't mean to be rude I simply..... Am not used to being spoken too so straight... If I'm talked to at all. They call me Drax. Drax Khorne. He says this in an awkward, halting speech.
Then the halfling starts speaking. Drax rolls his eyes, in a, here we go, kind of way. Finally he finishes speaking, and Drax shifts his attention back to the elf named Goraqull, and the man named mills.
I would have interest in accompanying you also, if you will accept me despite our... Potential differences, goraqull. I've never heard of druidctaft. Would you mind a demonstration? Where I come from I've only seen swords, axes, and blood.
ooc: if the dragon army does have druids (I forgot if they do or don't) just assume that drax was in an area where little to no spellcaster were, before he left
Goraquell is about to protest the demand that he perform like a commoner such as the halfling but stops himself. He nods and open the palm of one hand where a small flame appears and with the other he lifts the ale from the mugs on the table, shapes them into tiny daggers and finally into a water lily. He closes both hands causing the flame to disappear and the ale to drop back into the cup.
(OOC He can't actually cast 2 cantrips at once...this was flavor)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Pocketed silver:
7
Lucky attempts to swipe some silver from the pockets of unsuspecting people, and finds out that sometimes he doesn't live up to his name. All he's able to pull before his split with his traveling companion is 4 silver coins. Giving 2 to Zanoth, he stares down in his palm at the paltry two silver coins, wondering if perhaps his luck is failing him?
Just as the halfling is having that thought, a bloodcurdling scream pierces the quiet din of the evening. For a moment everyone in the common room of The Silver Feather stops talking and listens. Then, it happens again, a shrieking, female by the pitch of it, scream of horrendous fear comes through the open doorway from outside. Several of the townsfolk waste zero time dropping their food and beverages, grabbing up weapons, and running out into the street.
Drax perks up, grabs his axe, and pushes through the other people at the table.
Out of my way! He looks back at everyone else. Well?! Are you gonna come help, or are you just going to sit there dumbfounded?! The halfling is doing better than you!!
He then runs out into the street to see what the commotion is about.
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23 Oglug, Zoguday, 147 R.R.
After over a thousand years without a sighting or any credible evidence, dragons were thought to be either extinct or creatures only of myth. Now, though, everyone across the continent of Iewiuf knows they are very real. A few months back, at the tail end of Ilsa, as Autumn was fully settled into the forest, Alderanyë was suddenly and viciously attacked by an entire army of dragons. Some of the dragons were exactly like in the old stories, huge, chromatic colored, scaled, serpent-like creatures with long necks, long tails, four clawed feet and leathery wings that blot out the sun. Some, though, were humanoid creatures, walking around on two legs, still scaled, colored in chromatic colors just like their sky-riding kin. This combined army landed on the shores of Alderanyë wholly unbeknownst to the Elven monarchy, and quickly overwhelmed their capital city, Citadel Aldel. Rumors of the invasion, and of the potential threat to every nation, since all nations across Eafphqu had a healthy respect for the Elves’ ability to wage war when called upon, quickly spread like wildfire across the continent. The Republic of Byrthelm began evacuating its outlying cities and towns and sending troops to all their fortified cities. Some citizens in an overabundance of caution left everything behind to move to Tradebay City, as it was thought to be too far away from the Elven Queendom to be in any immediate danger. The Highland kingdom started marshaling the clans for war, and shoring up their defenses throughout the kingdom. As of yet, though, the dragon army has done nothing aggressive outside of the Marwood. Because the dragon army has stayed in Elven lands, the dragonborn, the name the peoples have started using for the humanoid dragon people, have started to become accepted within society. They travel freely about Iewiuf engaging in trade, securing employment, and, yes, even making friends with many of the other races. However, for obvious reasons, many elves who fled from the Marwood for safety, and who now also travel about and live among the other nations and peoples, harbor a deep distrust and even hatred for the dragonborn. Many a barfight has happened for no other reason than dragonborn and elves were in the same place at the same time and tempers flared.
There are rumors among the more informed citizens of every land that the reason the dragon army hasn’t moved onto attempting to conquer other lands is because they are searching for some artifact or artifacts of immense power. Some of those rumors say that the dragons are trying to bring their goddess Kraiula to the material plane so that she can lead her children to their rightful place as the rulers of all the world. These rumors are furthered by the number of Kraiulan religious zealots that are now encountered all over Iewiuf, as well as the number of dragonborn adventuring parties that show up at ancient historical sites. There are also rumors that owing to how quickly and almost bloodlessly the dragon army was able to overcome the elves that they must have had help from the inside.
Thus the continent of Iewiuf exists in a near constant state of heightened tension, a land that seems on the precipice of a war that could encompass the world. Add to that the blanket of winter that covers all but the most extreme southern regions of the continent, and it’s clear that now is a dangerous time to try and survive in the wildernesses of Iewiuf.
Even so, some still do. Hermits, hunters be they hunters of big game trophies, bounties, or treasure, guides, and traveling merchants. Point being, there are still people who brave the wintry wilds for various reasons. Among such groups, there is a widely recognized celebration day among the days of winter, it is the day that the moon Sylgja, revered among the Elves, revered among farmers, and the moon that marks the time when winter has rounded the bend to spring, is finally full. That day is always cause for celebration, and many of even the smallest hamlets and villages throw a party, no matter how meager, to celebrate. In the year of Republic Reckoning 147, the day of Sylgja’s celebration of fullness happened to fall on the 23rd of the month of Oglug on a Zoguday, and the town of Hyssop Ridge, a town on the extreme northwestern edge of King Haedwulf’s Highland kingdom, nestled in the Grumorjak Mountains almost a full week’s walk to the River Amryn, welcomed many wanderers to town with the promise of flowing mead, music, dancing and revelry.
Thus it was that a group of people who usually kept to themselves, kept away from civilization, kept wandering the trails of The Wandering Pass and all the byways that adjoined it, found themselves drawn to the warmth and sound. A massive bonfire was set up on a muddy, snowy hillock just west of the town's northernmost, and best by all regards, inn, the Silver Feather. The Feather’s main doors were wide open with heat, light, and the noise of joyous fun spilling out into the world around.
Thus it was, as cliche as it sounds, that many strangers came to meet in the common room of an inn, the Silver Feather inn, to be exact. They came from wandering their solitary trails, hunting their solitary hunts, and chasing their solitary choices to have a warm meal, some raucous company, and to celebrate the end of another winter.
Though the Feather’s common room was packed to the rafters and walls, no one begrudged anyone else their entry, making room as needed, and as it happened, there was one corner booth left with room. Perhaps that booth was still all but empty because its lone occupant was a dragonborn. Though the dragonborn weren’t terribly common anywhere outside of the Marwood they’d conquered of late, they also weren’t all that rare to see, though perhaps just here in Hyssop Ridge they were. Regardless, the red scaled dragon man in the corner booth sat drinking a tall stone tankard of mead, and looking about for friends. As yet none had screwed up enough courage to approach him, but perhaps, as other wanderers enter the inn, that would change?
/OOC Assuming we are going ahead with Lucky and I as travelling companions.
An odd pair walk onto town heading for the inn. Lucky has a gleam of mischief in his eye. The past few days on the road where rough and he let Zanoth know constantly. Especially after he had to start skipping elevenses and afternoon tea. He thinks ah finally an inn with real food, ale, and maybe another inn keepers daughter... Lucky smiles.
Walking in the tavern with Zanoth, Lucky looks around before climbing up on his friend's shoulder, to better hear him speak.
Who the lizard in the corner... Mark be a stretch... He looks about as broke as we are. But a friend, ya he could be... a good distraction and if he's a rival. It will be good to know who else is in town. Head on over I'll get us some ale and food. I'm sure I can find a coin or two on the way as well.
Lucky chuckes at his joke.
Climbing down Lucky will head to the Bar picking a few pockets on the way to pay for the ale and food.
(Rolled a 15 on the game log for slight of hand)
In walks a tall man with long red hair and a dark beard wearing deerskin trousers and shirt. His chest has a strip of thick cloth wrapped over one shoulder and around his torso and waist in the style of the Highland Realm, but the rest is more eclectic.
He carries a gladius of the Republic on his hip, and a mattock - favored of the Plains people- on his back, but in his hands is a tall, stout longbow, identifying him as one of the Archers of the Order of the Wild.
He stomps his boots to shake off a bit of the snow as he enters and then heads straight for the bar, eyes immediately drawn to the Dragonborn who stands out like an orc at a baby shower. He doesn't bother to hide his stares. Once he has a drink in hand, he looks around and sees there are no other places to sit. He sighs, straightens up and heads for the table.
He extends a hand. "Mills. Mills Gorecreek. Ain't nobody's a stranger today, even a Kraiulan followin' Dragonborn like yersef."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Drax watches the newcomers warily. They keep glancing his direction, making him nervous. He pull his cloak closer to his body, and takes a drink of his tea. He never had been one for alcohol, and he always managed to get the innkeeper to serve him tea, In the end.
Hmm. The tea was cold. He blew a jet of flame from his nostrils, quickly warming it back up.
Suddenly, a red hair covered man walks up, extending his hand. Drax subtly nudges, and motions at the greataxe that lays beside him.
You may sit. But I don't do the.... Hand touching custom of your kind, Drax says in a low, rumbling voice. He takes another sip of tea.
Hi.
Food and Ale in hand Lucky joins Zanoth. He hands him his food and ale and half of any coin he stole thats left over as they walk over to the table.
Hi human, lizard man. We're sitting scooch over.
Lucky sits at the table. Not waiting for an invitation.
Ah that's nice been an age since we've had a good drink and fine conversation ant that right Zanoth?
Turning to the other two.
What brings yall to town? Don't see much of your type in town?
Drax wrinkles his nose as the overzealous halfling (correct me if I'm wrong) sits beside him.
Just moving through. Don't want any trouble. Don't tend to stay in one place for long, I seem to attract attention everywhere I go, be it positive or negative, Drax replies in a wary tone.
Hi.
Goraqull gets up from his table in the Silver Feather wearing elegant looking clothes that have seen better days. He is tall and slender. He walks confidently shoulders back with the use of an ornate walking stick. He does not slouch. He has a natural grace to his walk giving those that see him a sense he is not a common elf despite his ragged clothing. He sees the Dragonborn staring at a red head, while 2 others insert themselves to the conversation. He decides to saunter over to the table with the Dragonborn and interrupt whatever they were talking about. "I am Goraqull. It seems to me you are not a part of the army of Dragonborn that has attacked the elves of this land and you young one I am not sure of.... A human yes, but why speak to the Dragonborn. Curious....Then a halfling and a mixed being...interesting...I see features of several species.....Why do you walk over? Perhaps a pair of brigands making a mark or perhaps you too need companions? May I sit?" He doesn't wait and sits "I am....looking for travelers...to help me learn about these lands so that I may return home in exchange for my services as a Druid..." He looks at the Dragonborn as he finishes speaking on trouble "Trouble is subjective I find. Perhaps as a Dragonborn wandering by themself trouble will find you.
Drax grunts.
This one raises a good point.
A hint of distrust creeps into his voice at being so directly addressed by an elf. Especially one that seems to speak without any hatred towards him.
I am.... Interested, to say the least. I have learned since I left Alderanyë that nothing is ever fully as it seems on the outside.
He looks each of the others in the eye as he says this.
I intend to soon retire to my chambers. I propose that we discuss this further in the morn, after a good night's rest. (Tem can I already have like, a place to stay the night at the silver feather?)
He looks around, as if silently asking of anyone has any last questions for him.
Hi.
(Was going for over presumptuous but overzealous is still right on the money)
Lucky still stuffing his face with food raises an eyebrow in a who da heck are you kinda look.
Um what? You want us to work for you as a guard and in return you work for us as a tree doctor?
Mills looks between Goraqull and Drax. "Whoa there... I'm no merchant, but I'm pretty sure a drink or something is still perty customary 'fore talkin' business. Not an accusation of bein' a bandit - accusin' o' lookin' to roll somebody on Winter's Feast."
"And whether you shake hands or not- which is mighty impolite- a man offers you his name, you give yours in return."
"Now everybody reach deep down in their pockets and find their manners, 'n' we can start over."
"Howdy. I'm Mills Gorecreek."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Lucky smiles and takes a sip of ale.
My friends I'm just a humble halfling but let me introduce you to his grace...
My lords! My ladies.
And everybody else here NOT sitting on a cushion:
Today, today, you find yourselves equals.
For you are all equally blessed.
For I have the pride, the privilege, nay, the pleasure
Of introducing to you a Knight, sired by Knights,
A Knight who can trace his lineage back beyond Agkhan.
I first met him atop a mountain near the Marwood.
Praying to the gods,
Asking Their forgiveness,
For the blood spilt by his sword.
Next, he amazed me still further in the Highlands
When he saved a fatherless beauty
From the would-be ravishings
Of her dreadful Aldholen uncle.
In Byrthelm, he spent a year in silence
Just to better understand the sound of a whisper.
And so, without further gilding the lily,
And with no more ado,
I give to you the Seeker of Serenity,
The Protector of Aldholen Virginity,
The Enforcer of the gods,
The One --The Only --Sir Zanoth von Saxou of the Plains.
(Rolled a 14 for performance and a 11 for deception)
Lucky sits back laughing to himself a bit proud he was able to get it all out without laughing even if it wasn't very convincing.
Goraquell watches the halfling eat like they haven't seen food in a week. He looks around at others eating and notices some use their hands, others use utensils, others drink from bowls, a few use their daggers. The halfling does a little of them all. Goraquell watches the halfling with disgust. He turns his head to address the rest "I do not want any of you to work for me, but to simply to allow me to accompany you on your travels to, as I said, learn the customs, traditions, culture, history, etc. etc. of these lands. In return, I offer my services as a Druid. You seem like a......well no matter what you look like...." Goraquell turns his attention to Mills "I suppose my first lesson is greetings. In these lands you extend hands and do what?" Goraquell extends his hand to Mills
Mills gives Goraqull a big, way-too-hard handshake. "There, just like that. You'll have it down in no time. Now, I do a fair bit of travelin' what with being in the Order of the Wild, patrollin' the borders for... Suspicious types. And I've seen druids at work. A sight to see, powerful stuff. Happy to have some company, I s'pose."
As the halfling wraps up his introduction - one that gives Mills a feeling of deja vu, and an inexplicable impulse to say "fong" - he eyes the one, the only...
"Did you say 'Sir Zanoth von Saxou of the Plains? Wasn't aware they had any knights out there."
History check? 12
Paladin - warforged - orange
Drax looks away as mills explains customs.
Please accept.. my apologies... I don't mean to be rude I simply..... Am not used to being spoken too so straight... If I'm talked to at all. They call me Drax. Drax Khorne. He says this in an awkward, halting speech.
Then the halfling starts speaking. Drax rolls his eyes, in a, here we go, kind of way. Finally he finishes speaking, and Drax shifts his attention back to the elf named Goraqull, and the man named mills.
I would have interest in accompanying you also, if you will accept me despite our... Potential differences, goraqull. I've never heard of druidctaft. Would you mind a demonstration? Where I come from I've only seen swords, axes, and blood.
ooc: if the dragon army does have druids (I forgot if they do or don't) just assume that drax was in an area where little to no spellcaster were, before he left
Hi.
Goraquell is about to protest the demand that he perform like a commoner such as the halfling but stops himself. He nods and open the palm of one hand where a small flame appears and with the other he lifts the ale from the mugs on the table, shapes them into tiny daggers and finally into a water lily. He closes both hands causing the flame to disappear and the ale to drop back into the cup.
(OOC He can't actually cast 2 cantrips at once...this was flavor)
Drax stares in wonder, then begins enthusiastically clapping the moment the demonstration is over, earning him some looks from other patrons.
BRAVO!!!!! That was amazing, goraqull, I’ve never seen such masterful spellcraft!
Drax notices some others looking at him strangely, and quickly calms himself.
Ahem. Good show, good show.
He takes another sip of tea, then warms it up again with two more jets of flame.
Like being a player, love dming.
I AM YOUR DM! BOW DOWN BEFORE THE GODS! XD
Pocketed silver:
7
Lucky attempts to swipe some silver from the pockets of unsuspecting people, and finds out that sometimes he doesn't live up to his name. All he's able to pull before his split with his traveling companion is 4 silver coins. Giving 2 to Zanoth, he stares down in his palm at the paltry two silver coins, wondering if perhaps his luck is failing him?
Just as the halfling is having that thought, a bloodcurdling scream pierces the quiet din of the evening. For a moment everyone in the common room of The Silver Feather stops talking and listens. Then, it happens again, a shrieking, female by the pitch of it, scream of horrendous fear comes through the open doorway from outside. Several of the townsfolk waste zero time dropping their food and beverages, grabbing up weapons, and running out into the street.
Zanoth a damsel in distress!! Let's go save the day and maybe earn some gold! You lizard man, up tight tree doctor and Human join us to Adventure!
Lucky will move outside for a look. Drawing tooth pick as he goes
Drax perks up, grabs his axe, and pushes through the other people at the table.
Out of my way! He looks back at everyone else. Well?! Are you gonna come help, or are you just going to sit there dumbfounded?! The halfling is doing better than you!!
He then runs out into the street to see what the commotion is about.
Hi.