After leaving Bowshot, you decided to head north, recalling stories about outcasts finding new lives in the north. And whilst the cold climates of Icewind Dale are not appealing, there is always the possibility of finding a new place to live. Perhaps, somewhere a little warmer and south of the Spine of the World.
After a few days of travelling along the Trade Way, you find yourself in Daggerford. You quickly feel overwhelmed as Daggerford is much bigger than the little hamlet you were used to. Yet, this town is where Bowshot would export most of its timber. And there is a festival of sorts being held in celebration.
@Juniper(DandDSince1973)
Even though you are used to living off the land, picking and gathering fruits and vegetables, you are no stranger to visiting the villages and towns on occasion. Trading in the markets you have always found helpful to gain knowledge of the world. Plus, it allows you to find repairs and more resources for your travels.
On the back of your pony, you were riding down from Gillian's Hill when the sound of music and general merriment is heard from a nearby town. Believing there might be a festival and celebration, you head towards the town. After all, a festival would provide the opportunity to speak to some locals and trade.
@Kal(VanderLegion)
It has been a typical day in Waterdeep. You were walking around the Southern Ward looking for newcomers to the city to trade with. Usually, you can find a good deal by entertaining the traders with tales of your life back in the creche. However, this all changed when a familiar voice echoed in your head, telling you to go to the Full Cup, a tavern not too far from where you were recounting some tales.
Excusing yourself, you head over to the Full Cup, and just after entering, the door behind you bursts open. Spinning around, you find a man looking worse for wear. He is splattered with blood, and his clothes are tattered.
"W-werewolves," he manages to stammer before collapsing against the door and sliding down to the floor.
@Star(EMIW)
You are enjoying a pleasant afternoon in the Singing Sprite in Secomber. You had been in Secomber for a while now, and whilst tabaxi are not often encountered by the people, they had grown accustomed to you. It was a little different back when you first arrived; many people stared at you with weary eyes. However, after you entertained them with stories, their reactions to you softened.
Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a man strides in. You had not seen the man before but assumed he must be an adventurer passing through the town. As he walks, you hear the sound of coins jingling in his pocket. You turn your attention away from the man, but his heavy footsteps make their way over to you.
"I have been sent to you to deliver this message," the man explains.
@Vice(WhiteByakko)
The circus has brought you to the town of Daggerford as part of the town's festivals. The ringmaster instructed you to help handle the animals as they are to be a part of the evening's entertainment, unlike other members of the circus who got to explore the town. This left you with grooming one of the horses. This horse, you remember, was one of the two that you calmed down during the stampede in Waterdeep.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"For me?" Star questions, his attention now entirely on the man. "Please, pass on your message, I must know it." His sapphire eyes focus on the man, while his tail curls around his legs, back and forth excitedly.
"Yes," the man replies. This time you notice his thick accent. "If you are a creature of honour, you will come to my master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich Woods at night."
The man then pulls out a sealed letter from his tunic and drops it onto the table before you.
"Head west to Daggerford, then take the Trade Way south. You will eventually come to the Svalich Woods. Head on through, and you will come to Barovia, where you will find my master."
The man then heads to the bar, and drops a bag full of coin.
"Fill his glass; he has a long journey ahead of him."
In front of you is the letter, addressed to you, in beautiful flowing script. The man then departs the tavern; when he opens the door, you notice that the weather has worsened. The sky has turned grey, and a thick fog surrounds the tavern.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Lost and alone, Emma ponders her options. A passerby might see her standing there, in whatever random place she was standing when the thought crossed her mind. She is a Human woman in her early twenties. Tall, but not extraordinarily so. Most people would have likely seen taller women. Her back is wide, and her figure looks strong, though again, nothing extraordinary. Anyone working any physical work constantly might seem equally strong, though her height does add a bit to the effect. Her bust, however, is medium, at best. Her hair is wavy and black, just barely touching her shoulders, worn down at the moment. Her eyes are dark brown, but many might mistake them for black on a quick look. Her ivory skin and light beige overdress contrast those dark colours, but her overdress has a few food stains here and there. Nothing too big, and could possibly go unnoticed at first, but given enough time any would find them. On her back is a backpack, nearly hidden behind a large and heavy-looking lid that's strapped onto said backpack, but for which you can be sure she is not carrying any matching pot. Notable, perhaps strangely, from her belt hangs an iron frying pan as a sword might hang from a knight's, and on her other side, a leather scabbard containing the handle of... a large kitchen knife?
On one hand, she should find a place to stay, first. Perhaps she could even find one that belongs to the guild to get cheaper, even free lodging. She left with a little to pay for what's needed, but that won't even be enough to pay the monthly sum to the guild when the time comes. On the other hand, a festival means good food, usually, even if overpriced more often than not, and after only eating preserved rations for the last few days, maybe something sweet...
As always, Emma's stomach pulls stronger than her tiring body, leading her towards the festival. As she gets closer and the people start forming a crowd, sparse at first, but getting denser the closer Emma gets to the centre of attention, she also begins to feel as if a heavy weight is loaded on her without her notice. She's been in crowds before, even denser than the part where she stands right now, but something felt off. Something she could not pinpoint, yet.
Rather quickly, Emma realises her breaths are shallow and short. As if not enough air enters her lungs. She begins to breathe in faster, deeper and harder, but the sensation doesn't go away. Instead, her heart rate increases, and soon, she starts feeling dizzy. Eventually, Emma breaks off from the crowd. She would try to reach any of the closest food stands if she can, but if there are none or they seem just as crowded as the middle of the street, she'll pull away to the closest alley she can see.
Emma escapes the crowd into the nearest alley. Here she spots two men dressed in damaged armour. One was taller with a slimmer build. From under his helmet, ginger curls can be spotted framing his face. The other was older, shorter and stockier. It also looked like he might be bald. However, a long bushy beard softens his jaw. They fail to notice Emma standing at the end of the alley.
"Duchess Morwen is not happy with those visitors," the one man says.
The other man replies, "Well, they keep harassing people from the town and most other visitors. With the festival, there's certainly been talk about Duchess Morwen not being able to deal with them."
"Ssh! The man replies. That's bordering on treason."
"Well, I'm not going to deal with them. Did you see what they did to Gerri? They bewitched him."
@Star(EMIW)
When Star breaks the seal, he notices its design.
When opening the letter he finds the following written:
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
(No problem. Just wanted to double check since obviously it affects how I might react whether he's conscious or not :P)
Stepping towards the collapsed newcomer, Kal looks out the door to see if there's an immediate threat outside or if the man made his way here from somewhere else. If there's no visible threat, Kal takes in the blood and tattered clothes, then, after hesitating for a moment, kneels beside the man, trying to access his wounds.
Looking outside, Kal sees that that there are a few people are looking in the direction of the tavern. On the faces are the looks of concern and worry. They must have noticed the man walking through the streets.
However most people did not notice and are going about their day. There doesn't seem to be a sense of danger anywhere. Well, other than the usual dangers lurking in the dark allies of cities as big as Waterdeep.
Returning back inside, Kal checks on the man. He doesn't seem to be seriously injured, only a few cuts and bruises. There was no chance of the blood splattered on his clothing being his own. If he really did encounter a werewolf, he must have been one of lucky ones. Perhaps the only lucky one to escape this encounter. Kal deduces that likely cause of the man collapsing must be due to exhaustion.
"I can't say that I have seen him before," comes a voice from behind him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Vice led the horse out the stable to the empty ground behind where the circus tent had set up. He was a half-elf, tall, tanned skin, white hair cut short that the ends stood up. He wore a leather vest, bare arms showing. His build was athletic, strong, though not brawny. He tied the lead rope of the horse onto a tree trunk, and began combing its coat to loosen the dirt. While he was doing that, he looked towards the far side, in the direction where his home once had been. Of course, he couldn’t see anything - the streets were already thronging with people, fairgoers, merchants setting up their temporary shop. He doubted he would see any familiar faces tonight, after all, Daggerford was a big town. It had been, what, five years since he left home?
So he was left to tend to the animals while others went exploring the town. Which was fine by him, he liked animals more than people anyway.
“Put on a good show tonight, alright?” Vice said, the corner of his mouth lifted up. He recognized the horse was one of the ones that got caught up in that stampede, and the first one he’d helped tame. He patted the horse on its back, and it gave a long neigh, tilted its head and tried to nudge him with its muzzle. Vice laughed. “Or not, who am I to tell you want to do.”
As Vice tends to the horse, he hears some shouting and yelling coming from behind him. This is then followed by the sound of light footsteps running towards him. Turning around, he spots a young boy, around eight, running towards him. The boy is dressed in bright red clothing, with a brown leather band around his waist and a red scarf tied around his head. He has shoulder-length messy black hair that falls around his shoulders. A cheeky smile of glee is spread across his face. In the boy's hand is a coin purse.
Behind him is an older man who is chasing after him. Unfortunately, for the old man, he is out of shape and cannot keep up. Seeing the horse, the boy runs behind it to try to escape the man.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Now, away from the crowd, Emma catches her breath, and her heart gradually slows down to a normal rhythm. It took her a few seconds of leaning on the wall until the dizziness passed too. Meanwhile, she inadvertently eavesdrops on the two armoured men. It's not like she can control what she hears.
More importantly, however, what was it that caused this strange sensation? Emma looks back over her shoulder, at the crowd. They were all just regular people, the kind she's been hosting for a few years in the inn, no different than any she had met during her two decades. None of them even looked at her, now, and yet she felt anxious just looking at them. What if they looked away because I looked at them? The thought crossed her mind. But it wasn't people looking at her that bothered her, it felt more like she was judged by the crowd. As if they're all silently saying, in a voice only she can hear: "We know what you've done.
Just looking at the crowd put her body on edge. Will she be able to go back there? (OOC: Given the two men stand at the alley's end, I assume it's a dead end, but is it?) She could just wait here until the crowd either moves away or disperses, but how long will that take? She could make a run for it, but that will attract even more attention, and Emma really didn't want that now. But if she does wait, what will happen when the two men realise she's been hearing their conversation? Considering one said the other's words border treason.
One thing they said caught Emma's interest, despite everything she was feeling at those moments. Who are those visitors, harassing and bewitching people? Most likely a matter she should have no interest in, but her time working as an innkeeper taught her to listen to rumours no matter how unfounded they may be. There's always someone who cares to listen to them later, and she had heard stories of such rumours turning out to be true. Rumours about rumours... And yet, Emma keeps standing there, listening to anything else the two may say, or until something else happens.
Vice looks towards the hustle. He sees the little kid races past him and lifts a pierced brow. Pickpocket? He guesses. He pretends to not see the kid slide behind the horse. He doesn’t know the story, but between the big grin on the boy’s face and that older man - obviously doing well for himself considering all that weight that’s making him out of breath - it’s an easy call.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Vice leaves the horse and stops the man. While the man cathes his breath, Vice looks him up and down and jerks his thumb towards the circus tent. “Private venue, okay? Authorized personnel only.”
Star squinted. He felt that he was making out the correct meaning of the letter, but the words were strange. Thee, thou, thine - not words he had heard or seen before. And what was 'languished'? But it seemed like someone was in trouble - ill, or injured? 'Wound' made it sound more like injured. By 'an evil'. Why had this letter been sent to him specifically? He had only been in this country a few months, and he had not done anything worthy of being summoned like this.
However, his innate curiosity would not allow him to walk away from this. Too many unanswered questions.
The bartender brings over the drink the stranger had bought. Star thanks them, then asks "Please, what do you know of the place Barovia? The Svallich Woods?"
Juniper had tightly braided her black springy coils into shoulder-length, beaded lengths, and proudly wears a henna tattoo on her cheek announcing her clan. Petite and narrow-shouldered, her figure in a long satin gown might call to mind calligraphy, graceful and poised, while to see her in armor, a broad-shouldered man might chuckle at how few metal scales are enough to cover her completely. But now, she wears a vest of finely woven fibers, pale green and brown-beige, over a cotton shirt with flowing sleeves tied in place by multicolor dyed cords.
Her long lashes droop when her mind wanders to the wilds, or flash open when animated, revealing large, sensitive eyes. Her jaw is firm and strong, her form, taut and quick, springy as a bamboo shoot, “proud as an aspen,” as her mother had told her.
Like her mother, when she speaks, the sound is summer prairie grass: sweet, heavy, rich. It is in this tone that she coos to the pony she leads by a length of flaxen cord.
“What do you say, Foxglove, to a bit of dancing? Oh come on, don’t snort like that, I’ll find somewhere nice for you to wait while I explore.”
Smiling, she feeds the pony the core of the apple she’d been munching and the pair turn off Gillian’s Hill onto the path leading to town.
Looking outside, Kal sees that that there are a few people are looking in the direction of the tavern. On the faces are the looks of concern and worry. They must have noticed the man walking through the streets.
However most people did not notice and are going about their day. There doesn't seem to be a sense of danger anywhere. Well, other than the usual dangers lurking in the dark allies of cities as big as Waterdeep.
Returning back inside, Kal checks on the man. He doesn't seem to be seriously injured, only a few cuts and bruises. There was no chance of the blood splattered on his clothing being his own. If he really did encounter a werewolf, he must have been one of lucky ones. Perhaps the only lucky one to escape this encounter. Kal deduces that likely cause of the man collapsing must be due to exhaustion.
"I can't say that I have seen him before," comes a voice from behind him.
Finding no major injuries, Kal turns to the speaker behind him. "Help me move him out of the doorway," he says to the person. Turning back, he does his best to avoid the blood on the man's clothes as he works to move the man to be sitting back (or lying, depending what position the man ended up in after sliding down) against the wall beside the door, then taking a moment to straighten out the mans clothes as much as possible given their state.
"Wonder if this is why I was directed to come here," he wonders to himself.
"Thanks," he tells the owner of the voice (if they helped), taking a closer look at them.
"No, I wouldn't want to deal with them either. Anyway, I hear the Duchess is looking for volunteers to deal with the visitors in exchange for reward. It seems that she would rather deal with them peacefully, if she can. Although, with the pressure being put on her, she might turn to drastic measures by the morning."
At that moment, the older man catches sight of Emma, and pats the younger man on the chest plate. He then gestures to her with a gauntleted hand. The younger man turns to look at Emma as well. However, they don't show signs of anger at spotting her.
"Afternoon, ma'am," the older man says. "Everything alright? Enjoying the festivities?"
@Vice(WhiteByakko)
"Outta my way," the man replies trying to push pass Vice. "I saw that little thief run down this way. I know he is in there. If you don't get out of my way, I'll have the guards arrest you for collusion."
The man pauses for a moment studying Vice's face.
"Wait a moment, don't I recognise you?"
@Star(EMIW)
The bartender's smiling welcoming face falls, and all of a sudden the man looks much older, "Sure I have heard Barovia and the Svallich Woods."
He takes a seat on the opposite side of the table to Star.
"Mind you, I'm not entirely sure the place is real. Those Vistani have come this way before, and they love talking about the place. You see, the stories say that those who go to Barovia never return. Though, they can't be true, otherwise how would the Vistani be here to tell stories about the place? Anyway, the land is supposed to be ruled by some noble prince who has been cursed. Or at least that's how the Vistani tell it. It's not a place I'd go to myself. Cursed princes and you never return? I'd stay well away.
Why do you ask?"
@Juniper(DanDSince1973)
Juniper continues on her way on the back of Foxglove. She travels at a slow relaxing place, not in too much of a rush to get into town. The feeling of the warm sun can be felt shining down from above.
However, as she gets closer to the town she notices a gathering of three barrel-topped wagons placed at odd angles. The site of these wagons is not too far from the town's outer walls. Men are gathering wood and arranging them in the centre of the wagons. Another man is spotted standing near to one of the wagons giving instructions to the other men. Juniper realises that they must be building a bonfire, and that must be the leader of the people.
Near to the leader, is a woman sitting on the front of the wagon watching him, whilst she cradles something in her arms. Probably a baby. A couple of children are running around past the men gathering firewood, probably no older than five.
There is no way of getting to the town's gates without riding closer to the wagons.
@Kal(VanderLegion)
The owner of the voice appears to be a man wearing an apron. Probably the barkeep. He crouches down to give Kal a hand with moving the man out of the way of the door.
"No problem," he replies. "Do you reckon he was telling the truth? About the werewolf, I mean? If he really escaped a werewolf, then he must be really lucky. Unless, I suppose, the werewolf let him escape. Although, why it would do that, I don't know."
Someone else approaches to the side of the barkeep, "Here try these smelling salts on him. It might help wake him up."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Volunteering in exchange for a reward? Isn't that just work? There are always those searching for odd jobs, who would take on any task for some pay. She should make sure to remember that if somebody asks her. "Ah, yes, of course. Everything is fine." That was a lie, but what should she have said, that even thinking of going back into the crowd makes her feel uneasy? And yet, if she says that, then it would be weird for her to just remain there.
Emma turns back as if leaving but doesn't move. Can she really go back there now? She couldn't even fully calm down from the last time, just a moment ago. Why did this happen to her? She was never like this before. Even if she knows how irrational the fear is, she knows it's real. So instead, Emma turns around. But she cannot just stand there after saying everything is fine, can she?
Her mind racing to think of a good excuse, the words come out by themselves. "Actually, I couldn't help but overhear you, and I got curious. What sort of volunteers are you searching for, and what kind of reward is offered? Who are the visitors?" Later, Emma might think it made sense, whether or not the consequences were desirable or not. She did need to get some money and had no way of getting it at that moment. And yet, in the present, she couldn't help but feel like she had dug an even deeper hole for herself.
As Foxglove carries Juniper toward town in the warming sunlight, the elf’s druidcraft seems to have a mind of its own.
Seed pods fallen to the road from tree boughs hanging at intervals over the path respond to her proximity, cracking open and bristling with sprouting growth. Spotting a series of buds which had fallen unopened during a recent rain shower skirting a line of magnolias trees, she dismounts, carefully taking them in her slender fingers. Their fragrant white and fuchsia curls blossom fragrantly at her touch, and soon, weaving the stems together, the forest elf has created a floral garland from them. This she places on her head in complete seriousness.
‘There,’ she thinks, ‘Now I’m dressed for a festival.’
So crowned, in time she approaches the wagons parked at odd angles in the road, her father’s instructions echoing in memory. ‘Be both cordial and wary with strangers. They may surprise you with unexpected kindness like bright mushrooms under a rocky ledge. Or they may be like the rock itself, hard, unmoving and sharp.’
Stopping a ways from the encampment, Juniper politely waits until someone notices her, then she shouts a greeting in the common tongue.
The younger looks shocked at the idea that Emma would ask questions about what the two guards were discussing. However, the older man simply puts a hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright," he says, but just loud enough for Emma to hear.
The man steps forward, past the other guard, and in a louder voice, says, "Well, we've had some trouble these past couple of days were visitors camping just outside the town's walls. Harassing the townsfolk, petty theft, that kind of stuff. Duchess Morwen would reward anybody with gold who managed to get rid of them. Get them to move on. She doesn't want anyone to shed blood. However, they don't seem to want to listen.
If you are interested in helping, I would recommend you go to speak to the Duchess herself. She is probably somewhere around the town square. I can take you to her if you like. What did you say your name was?"
@Juniper(DandDSince1973)
Upon shouting her greeting, the people stop going about their business and turn to look at her.
"It's okay, folks," says the man she believes to be the leader. Now that she is closer, Juniper can get a better look at the man. He is wearing a long coat that ends past his knees and a wide-brimmed hat that casts his face into shadow despite the shining sun. He has a large hooked nose that looks like it might have broken in a fight. His long brown hair falls down past his shoulders in a mess. On his chin, he supports a big bushy beard with patches of grey.
He carries himself with pride, and his long coat does nothing to hide the strength in his body.
"What brings you this way?" he says, smiling.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
@Emma (FireCat5)
After leaving Bowshot, you decided to head north, recalling stories about outcasts finding new lives in the north. And whilst the cold climates of Icewind Dale are not appealing, there is always the possibility of finding a new place to live. Perhaps, somewhere a little warmer and south of the Spine of the World.
After a few days of travelling along the Trade Way, you find yourself in Daggerford. You quickly feel overwhelmed as Daggerford is much bigger than the little hamlet you were used to. Yet, this town is where Bowshot would export most of its timber. And there is a festival of sorts being held in celebration.
@Juniper(DandDSince1973)
Even though you are used to living off the land, picking and gathering fruits and vegetables, you are no stranger to visiting the villages and towns on occasion. Trading in the markets you have always found helpful to gain knowledge of the world. Plus, it allows you to find repairs and more resources for your travels.
On the back of your pony, you were riding down from Gillian's Hill when the sound of music and general merriment is heard from a nearby town. Believing there might be a festival and celebration, you head towards the town. After all, a festival would provide the opportunity to speak to some locals and trade.
@Kal(VanderLegion)
It has been a typical day in Waterdeep. You were walking around the Southern Ward looking for newcomers to the city to trade with. Usually, you can find a good deal by entertaining the traders with tales of your life back in the creche. However, this all changed when a familiar voice echoed in your head, telling you to go to the Full Cup, a tavern not too far from where you were recounting some tales.
Excusing yourself, you head over to the Full Cup, and just after entering, the door behind you bursts open. Spinning around, you find a man looking worse for wear. He is splattered with blood, and his clothes are tattered.
"W-werewolves," he manages to stammer before collapsing against the door and sliding down to the floor.
@Star(EMIW)
You are enjoying a pleasant afternoon in the Singing Sprite in Secomber. You had been in Secomber for a while now, and whilst tabaxi are not often encountered by the people, they had grown accustomed to you. It was a little different back when you first arrived; many people stared at you with weary eyes. However, after you entertained them with stories, their reactions to you softened.
Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a man strides in. You had not seen the man before but assumed he must be an adventurer passing through the town. As he walks, you hear the sound of coins jingling in his pocket. You turn your attention away from the man, but his heavy footsteps make their way over to you.
"I have been sent to you to deliver this message," the man explains.
@Vice(WhiteByakko)
The circus has brought you to the town of Daggerford as part of the town's festivals. The ringmaster instructed you to help handle the animals as they are to be a part of the evening's entertainment, unlike other members of the circus who got to explore the town. This left you with grooming one of the horses. This horse, you remember, was one of the two that you calmed down during the stampede in Waterdeep.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"For me?" Star questions, his attention now entirely on the man. "Please, pass on your message, I must know it." His sapphire eyes focus on the man, while his tail curls around his legs, back and forth excitedly.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
@Star(EMIW)
"Yes," the man replies. This time you notice his thick accent. "If you are a creature of honour, you will come to my master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich Woods at night."
The man then pulls out a sealed letter from his tunic and drops it onto the table before you.
"Head west to Daggerford, then take the Trade Way south. You will eventually come to the Svalich Woods. Head on through, and you will come to Barovia, where you will find my master."
The man then heads to the bar, and drops a bag full of coin.
"Fill his glass; he has a long journey ahead of him."
In front of you is the letter, addressed to you, in beautiful flowing script. The man then departs the tavern; when he opens the door, you notice that the weather has worsened. The sky has turned grey, and a thick fog surrounds the tavern.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
(Did the man pass out, or just couldn't stay on his feet anymore but is still conscious?)
Lost and alone, Emma ponders her options. A passerby might see her standing there, in whatever random place she was standing when the thought crossed her mind. She is a Human woman in her early twenties. Tall, but not extraordinarily so. Most people would have likely seen taller women. Her back is wide, and her figure looks strong, though again, nothing extraordinary. Anyone working any physical work constantly might seem equally strong, though her height does add a bit to the effect. Her bust, however, is medium, at best. Her hair is wavy and black, just barely touching her shoulders, worn down at the moment. Her eyes are dark brown, but many might mistake them for black on a quick look. Her ivory skin and light beige overdress contrast those dark colours, but her overdress has a few food stains here and there. Nothing too big, and could possibly go unnoticed at first, but given enough time any would find them. On her back is a backpack, nearly hidden behind a large and heavy-looking lid that's strapped onto said backpack, but for which you can be sure she is not carrying any matching pot. Notable, perhaps strangely, from her belt hangs an iron frying pan as a sword might hang from a knight's, and on her other side, a leather scabbard containing the handle of... a large kitchen knife?
On one hand, she should find a place to stay, first. Perhaps she could even find one that belongs to the guild to get cheaper, even free lodging. She left with a little to pay for what's needed, but that won't even be enough to pay the monthly sum to the guild when the time comes. On the other hand, a festival means good food, usually, even if overpriced more often than not, and after only eating preserved rations for the last few days, maybe something sweet...
As always, Emma's stomach pulls stronger than her tiring body, leading her towards the festival. As she gets closer and the people start forming a crowd, sparse at first, but getting denser the closer Emma gets to the centre of attention, she also begins to feel as if a heavy weight is loaded on her without her notice. She's been in crowds before, even denser than the part where she stands right now, but something felt off. Something she could not pinpoint, yet.
Rather quickly, Emma realises her breaths are shallow and short. As if not enough air enters her lungs. She begins to breathe in faster, deeper and harder, but the sensation doesn't go away. Instead, her heart rate increases, and soon, she starts feeling dizzy. Eventually, Emma breaks off from the crowd. She would try to reach any of the closest food stands if she can, but if there are none or they seem just as crowded as the middle of the street, she'll pull away to the closest alley she can see.
Varielky
What a strange man. Star had heard a few varied accents since landing at the big city Water Deep four months ago, but none sounded like that.
He extends a claw, and slides it between the wax seal and the paper of the letter. The seal pops clear, and Star opens the letter. It reads...
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
@Kal(VanderLegion)
(Sorry, yeah, he is passed out.)
@Emma(FireCat5)
Emma escapes the crowd into the nearest alley. Here she spots two men dressed in damaged armour. One was taller with a slimmer build. From under his helmet, ginger curls can be spotted framing his face. The other was older, shorter and stockier. It also looked like he might be bald. However, a long bushy beard softens his jaw. They fail to notice Emma standing at the end of the alley.
"Duchess Morwen is not happy with those visitors," the one man says.
The other man replies, "Well, they keep harassing people from the town and most other visitors. With the festival, there's certainly been talk about Duchess Morwen not being able to deal with them."
"Ssh! The man replies. That's bordering on treason."
"Well, I'm not going to deal with them. Did you see what they did to Gerri? They bewitched him."
@Star(EMIW)
When Star breaks the seal, he notices its design.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
(No problem. Just wanted to double check since obviously it affects how I might react whether he's conscious or not :P)
Stepping towards the collapsed newcomer, Kal looks out the door to see if there's an immediate threat outside or if the man made his way here from somewhere else. If there's no visible threat, Kal takes in the blood and tattered clothes, then, after hesitating for a moment, kneels beside the man, trying to access his wounds.
Medicine check: 5
"Does anyone know this man?" he asks.
@Kal(VanderLeigon)
Looking outside, Kal sees that that there are a few people are looking in the direction of the tavern. On the faces are the looks of concern and worry. They must have noticed the man walking through the streets.
However most people did not notice and are going about their day. There doesn't seem to be a sense of danger anywhere. Well, other than the usual dangers lurking in the dark allies of cities as big as Waterdeep.
Returning back inside, Kal checks on the man. He doesn't seem to be seriously injured, only a few cuts and bruises. There was no chance of the blood splattered on his clothing being his own. If he really did encounter a werewolf, he must have been one of lucky ones. Perhaps the only lucky one to escape this encounter. Kal deduces that likely cause of the man collapsing must be due to exhaustion.
"I can't say that I have seen him before," comes a voice from behind him.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Back in town, I guess.
Vice led the horse out the stable to the empty ground behind where the circus tent had set up. He was a half-elf, tall, tanned skin, white hair cut short that the ends stood up. He wore a leather vest, bare arms showing. His build was athletic, strong, though not brawny. He tied the lead rope of the horse onto a tree trunk, and began combing its coat to loosen the dirt. While he was doing that, he looked towards the far side, in the direction where his home once had been. Of course, he couldn’t see anything - the streets were already thronging with people, fairgoers, merchants setting up their temporary shop. He doubted he would see any familiar faces tonight, after all, Daggerford was a big town. It had been, what, five years since he left home?
So he was left to tend to the animals while others went exploring the town. Which was fine by him, he liked animals more than people anyway.
“Put on a good show tonight, alright?” Vice said, the corner of his mouth lifted up. He recognized the horse was one of the ones that got caught up in that stampede, and the first one he’d helped tame. He patted the horse on its back, and it gave a long neigh, tilted its head and tried to nudge him with its muzzle. Vice laughed. “Or not, who am I to tell you want to do.”
@Vice(WhiteByakko)
As Vice tends to the horse, he hears some shouting and yelling coming from behind him. This is then followed by the sound of light footsteps running towards him. Turning around, he spots a young boy, around eight, running towards him. The boy is dressed in bright red clothing, with a brown leather band around his waist and a red scarf tied around his head. He has shoulder-length messy black hair that falls around his shoulders. A cheeky smile of glee is spread across his face. In the boy's hand is a coin purse.
Behind him is an older man who is chasing after him. Unfortunately, for the old man, he is out of shape and cannot keep up. Seeing the horse, the boy runs behind it to try to escape the man.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Now, away from the crowd, Emma catches her breath, and her heart gradually slows down to a normal rhythm. It took her a few seconds of leaning on the wall until the dizziness passed too. Meanwhile, she inadvertently eavesdrops on the two armoured men. It's not like she can control what she hears.
More importantly, however, what was it that caused this strange sensation? Emma looks back over her shoulder, at the crowd. They were all just regular people, the kind she's been hosting for a few years in the inn, no different than any she had met during her two decades. None of them even looked at her, now, and yet she felt anxious just looking at them. What if they looked away because I looked at them? The thought crossed her mind. But it wasn't people looking at her that bothered her, it felt more like she was judged by the crowd. As if they're all silently saying, in a voice only she can hear: "We know what you've done.
Just looking at the crowd put her body on edge. Will she be able to go back there? (OOC: Given the two men stand at the alley's end, I assume it's a dead end, but is it?) She could just wait here until the crowd either moves away or disperses, but how long will that take? She could make a run for it, but that will attract even more attention, and Emma really didn't want that now. But if she does wait, what will happen when the two men realise she's been hearing their conversation? Considering one said the other's words border treason.
One thing they said caught Emma's interest, despite everything she was feeling at those moments. Who are those visitors, harassing and bewitching people? Most likely a matter she should have no interest in, but her time working as an innkeeper taught her to listen to rumours no matter how unfounded they may be. There's always someone who cares to listen to them later, and she had heard stories of such rumours turning out to be true. Rumours about rumours... And yet, Emma keeps standing there, listening to anything else the two may say, or until something else happens.
Varielky
Vice looks towards the hustle. He sees the little kid races past him and lifts a pierced brow. Pickpocket? He guesses. He pretends to not see the kid slide behind the horse. He doesn’t know the story, but between the big grin on the boy’s face and that older man - obviously doing well for himself considering all that weight that’s making him out of breath - it’s an easy call.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Vice leaves the horse and stops the man. While the man cathes his breath, Vice looks him up and down and jerks his thumb towards the circus tent. “Private venue, okay? Authorized personnel only.”
Star squinted. He felt that he was making out the correct meaning of the letter, but the words were strange. Thee, thou, thine - not words he had heard or seen before. And what was 'languished'? But it seemed like someone was in trouble - ill, or injured? 'Wound' made it sound more like injured. By 'an evil'. Why had this letter been sent to him specifically? He had only been in this country a few months, and he had not done anything worthy of being summoned like this.
However, his innate curiosity would not allow him to walk away from this. Too many unanswered questions.
The bartender brings over the drink the stranger had bought. Star thanks them, then asks "Please, what do you know of the place Barovia? The Svallich Woods?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Juniper had tightly braided her black springy coils into shoulder-length, beaded lengths, and proudly wears a henna tattoo on her cheek announcing her clan. Petite and narrow-shouldered, her figure in a long satin gown might call to mind calligraphy, graceful and poised, while to see her in armor, a broad-shouldered man might chuckle at how few metal scales are enough to cover her completely. But now, she wears a vest of finely woven fibers, pale green and brown-beige, over a cotton shirt with flowing sleeves tied in place by multicolor dyed cords.
Her long lashes droop when her mind wanders to the wilds, or flash open when animated, revealing large, sensitive eyes. Her jaw is firm and strong, her form, taut and quick, springy as a bamboo shoot, “proud as an aspen,” as her mother had told her.
Like her mother, when she speaks, the sound is summer prairie grass: sweet, heavy, rich. It is in this tone that she coos to the pony she leads by a length of flaxen cord.
“What do you say, Foxglove, to a bit of dancing? Oh come on, don’t snort like that, I’ll find somewhere nice for you to wait while I explore.”
Smiling, she feeds the pony the core of the apple she’d been munching and the pair turn off Gillian’s Hill onto the path leading to town.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Finding no major injuries, Kal turns to the speaker behind him. "Help me move him out of the doorway," he says to the person. Turning back, he does his best to avoid the blood on the man's clothes as he works to move the man to be sitting back (or lying, depending what position the man ended up in after sliding down) against the wall beside the door, then taking a moment to straighten out the mans clothes as much as possible given their state.
"Wonder if this is why I was directed to come here," he wonders to himself.
"Thanks," he tells the owner of the voice (if they helped), taking a closer look at them.
@Emma(FireCat5)
"No, I wouldn't want to deal with them either. Anyway, I hear the Duchess is looking for volunteers to deal with the visitors in exchange for reward. It seems that she would rather deal with them peacefully, if she can. Although, with the pressure being put on her, she might turn to drastic measures by the morning."
At that moment, the older man catches sight of Emma, and pats the younger man on the chest plate. He then gestures to her with a gauntleted hand. The younger man turns to look at Emma as well. However, they don't show signs of anger at spotting her.
"Afternoon, ma'am," the older man says. "Everything alright? Enjoying the festivities?"
@Vice(WhiteByakko)
"Outta my way," the man replies trying to push pass Vice. "I saw that little thief run down this way. I know he is in there. If you don't get out of my way, I'll have the guards arrest you for collusion."
The man pauses for a moment studying Vice's face.
"Wait a moment, don't I recognise you?"
@Star(EMIW)
The bartender's smiling welcoming face falls, and all of a sudden the man looks much older, "Sure I have heard Barovia and the Svallich Woods."
He takes a seat on the opposite side of the table to Star.
"Mind you, I'm not entirely sure the place is real. Those Vistani have come this way before, and they love talking about the place. You see, the stories say that those who go to Barovia never return. Though, they can't be true, otherwise how would the Vistani be here to tell stories about the place? Anyway, the land is supposed to be ruled by some noble prince who has been cursed. Or at least that's how the Vistani tell it. It's not a place I'd go to myself. Cursed princes and you never return? I'd stay well away.
Why do you ask?"
@Juniper(DanDSince1973)
Juniper continues on her way on the back of Foxglove. She travels at a slow relaxing place, not in too much of a rush to get into town. The feeling of the warm sun can be felt shining down from above.
However, as she gets closer to the town she notices a gathering of three barrel-topped wagons placed at odd angles. The site of these wagons is not too far from the town's outer walls. Men are gathering wood and arranging them in the centre of the wagons. Another man is spotted standing near to one of the wagons giving instructions to the other men. Juniper realises that they must be building a bonfire, and that must be the leader of the people.
Near to the leader, is a woman sitting on the front of the wagon watching him, whilst she cradles something in her arms. Probably a baby. A couple of children are running around past the men gathering firewood, probably no older than five.
There is no way of getting to the town's gates without riding closer to the wagons.
@Kal(VanderLegion)
The owner of the voice appears to be a man wearing an apron. Probably the barkeep. He crouches down to give Kal a hand with moving the man out of the way of the door.
"No problem," he replies. "Do you reckon he was telling the truth? About the werewolf, I mean? If he really escaped a werewolf, then he must be really lucky. Unless, I suppose, the werewolf let him escape. Although, why it would do that, I don't know."
Someone else approaches to the side of the barkeep, "Here try these smelling salts on him. It might help wake him up."
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Volunteering in exchange for a reward? Isn't that just work? There are always those searching for odd jobs, who would take on any task for some pay. She should make sure to remember that if somebody asks her. "Ah, yes, of course. Everything is fine." That was a lie, but what should she have said, that even thinking of going back into the crowd makes her feel uneasy? And yet, if she says that, then it would be weird for her to just remain there.
Emma turns back as if leaving but doesn't move. Can she really go back there now? She couldn't even fully calm down from the last time, just a moment ago. Why did this happen to her? She was never like this before. Even if she knows how irrational the fear is, she knows it's real. So instead, Emma turns around. But she cannot just stand there after saying everything is fine, can she?
Her mind racing to think of a good excuse, the words come out by themselves. "Actually, I couldn't help but overhear you, and I got curious. What sort of volunteers are you searching for, and what kind of reward is offered? Who are the visitors?" Later, Emma might think it made sense, whether or not the consequences were desirable or not. She did need to get some money and had no way of getting it at that moment. And yet, in the present, she couldn't help but feel like she had dug an even deeper hole for herself.
Varielky
As Foxglove carries Juniper toward town in the warming sunlight, the elf’s druidcraft seems to have a mind of its own.
Seed pods fallen to the road from tree boughs hanging at intervals over the path respond to her proximity, cracking open and bristling with sprouting growth. Spotting a series of buds which had fallen unopened during a recent rain shower skirting a line of magnolias trees, she dismounts, carefully taking them in her slender fingers. Their fragrant white and fuchsia curls blossom fragrantly at her touch, and soon, weaving the stems together, the forest elf has created a floral garland from them. This she places on her head in complete seriousness.
‘There,’ she thinks, ‘Now I’m dressed for a festival.’
So crowned, in time she approaches the wagons parked at odd angles in the road, her father’s instructions echoing in memory. ‘Be both cordial and wary with strangers. They may surprise you with unexpected kindness like bright mushrooms under a rocky ledge. Or they may be like the rock itself, hard, unmoving and sharp.’
Stopping a ways from the encampment, Juniper politely waits until someone notices her, then she shouts a greeting in the common tongue.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
@Emma(FireCat5)
The younger looks shocked at the idea that Emma would ask questions about what the two guards were discussing. However, the older man simply puts a hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright," he says, but just loud enough for Emma to hear.
The man steps forward, past the other guard, and in a louder voice, says, "Well, we've had some trouble these past couple of days were visitors camping just outside the town's walls. Harassing the townsfolk, petty theft, that kind of stuff. Duchess Morwen would reward anybody with gold who managed to get rid of them. Get them to move on. She doesn't want anyone to shed blood. However, they don't seem to want to listen.
If you are interested in helping, I would recommend you go to speak to the Duchess herself. She is probably somewhere around the town square. I can take you to her if you like. What did you say your name was?"
@Juniper(DandDSince1973)
Upon shouting her greeting, the people stop going about their business and turn to look at her.
"It's okay, folks," says the man she believes to be the leader. Now that she is closer, Juniper can get a better look at the man. He is wearing a long coat that ends past his knees and a wide-brimmed hat that casts his face into shadow despite the shining sun. He has a large hooked nose that looks like it might have broken in a fight. His long brown hair falls down past his shoulders in a mess. On his chin, he supports a big bushy beard with patches of grey.
He carries himself with pride, and his long coat does nothing to hide the strength in his body.
"What brings you this way?" he says, smiling.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax