The vast caverns loom before you, dripping, echoing, and flooding the senses with experiences different to those of the surface.
The air is wet and cold, and apart from the ambient sounds of untamed underground comes the bustle of a small city... Journey's End~
A mix a magic, fire, crystal, and luminous fungi dimly light this mixed community of passersby. A place of ill-repute, many shady types from the surface can occasionally be spotted 'doing business' here with the denizens of the deep. Those of the underground know this as 'a gate city', one of several where surface dwellers may be found.
///
Your party (yet unformed) find themselves here for various reasons and by different means. Some have nearly escaped being sold as slaves. Some may call this underworld home. Others...may yet have been determined or discovered... ...but whatever the case, this is where you are at the present time, and you find yourselves feeling hungry, in need of aid, and converging in what seems to a local pub.
(Each of you has opportunity to introduce your characters... who/what they are, where they are, what they're doing, how they got there... and interact if you see fit.)
Waeslen the goblin had always been a curious and adventurous spirit. As a Circle of Spores druid, he had spent many years exploring the dark and mysterious corners of the Underdark.
But his latest adventure had taken a dangerous turn. Captured by Drow slavers and held captive for far too long, Waeslen finally managed to escape, using his abilities to slip away under cover of darkness. Now, he found himself alone and helpless in a small Underdark city called Journey's End, without any resources or equipment to his name.
As Waeslen cautiously crept through the dimly-lit streets of Journey's End, he couldn't shake the memories of his captivity at the hands of the Drow Slavers. The fear and desperation he felt as he fought tooth and nail for his freedom haunted him, but he knew he had to focus on surviving in this strange underdark city.
Foraging for some edible mushrooms to quell his hunger, Waeslen couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as he wondered if any of the other prisoners had managed to escape alongside him. He knew that strength in numbers would be crucial for his survival in this unforgiving environment.
After filling his belly with the mushrooms, Waeslen decided to head to the local bar in hopes of finding some of the other escapees he had seen flee in the chaos of the night. As he scanned the faces of the patrons, he realized that he didn't recognize anyone. But just as he was about to give up hope, a familiar figure caught his eye…Hey, It’s you....(waiting for another character)
“Weaslen?” Tursyn asked, his eyes wide. He rubbed his eyes with the dirty, frayed sleeve of his tunic. Still, the goblin remained in his line of sight. He wasn’t a trick of the aasimar’s mind, but a tangible, familiar face.
He swallowed, ignoring the scratch in his sore throat. Tursyn was born as a slave in the Underdark, where the harsh conditions and cruelty of the drow slavers took their toll on him. He was malnourished, with a gaunt face and sunken eyes, and his hands suffered a constant tremor. Since childhood, he resigned himself to his inevitable fate: he would die as a slave.
Then the drow slavers’ latest captives fought and fled into the night. Their escape had inspired Tursyn, igniting the fire of resistance within him. Like them, he clawed his way out of captivity, surviving by the skin of his teeth. Perhaps it was because of his resilience as a Path of Berserker barbarian that he survived. Perhaps it was something else entirely, unknown and untouchable to him. Regardless, Tursyn ran as far away as his feet could take him… and found himself in Journey’s End. Hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, he had wandered through the shadowed streets of the city. Seeking a moment of reprieve, he went inside the nearest pub, and the reality of his freedom sunk in. Freedom. He savoured the word on his tongue and wondered what it meant to be free; what he could do with it.
He walked towards Waeslen. A small, strained smile appeared on his face. “I’m glad... I'm glad you escaped. Do you know if anyone else is here? Or if... if they're alive?”
Several patrons can be seen coming, stay, or going. The atmosphere of the bar is somewhat lively and comforting in contrast to the fear, lonlieness, and danger off the underdark.
Two barmaids, one human and the other dwarven, can be seen serving tables and attending to rooms as well as the Pech barkeep with various needs. In the northeast corner of the room resides a small trio of varying origin playing an upbeat, albeit haunting melody from their instruments. ( F.E: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO-55BVKQ9k )
They seem to pay little mind to anyone that doesn't deliberatley call for their attention. A couple patrons give sideways glances, but nothing beyond the usual wariness of those who inhabit such places.
A drow in rags sits in the corner. His name is Qorotl, but those know him simply call him Rot. No one knows him here, a small blessing by his standard. For better or worse, his is an accursed life, even moreso now that he's fled his murder charge. But it wasn't his fault. Nothing was ever his fault.
He was just the one to survive the ritual. For that, he would hang. Instead he ran. But why? Males need not seek purpose, as they are destined to failure. Such as was his destiny. And yet...
He finds himself pulled from his thoughts by excitable chatter, he expects to find guards being pointed to his location. Instead, two strange men, one a goblin and the other peculiar in appearance, seem to be discussing some grand crisis of fate. Rot watches for a few moments before returning to his regimen of wallowing in his own self-pity.
"There, there deary. Do try to perk up." Qorotl hears a gentle, raspy voice console as a small hand gently pats his back.
Looking down he sees a small, elderly deep gnome standing by him. Barely up to his knees, the woman offers a slightly too toothy smile - the muscles under her loose purple skin pulling themselves into a semblance of pity, though her dark eyes remain blank. Taking a longer moment to observe the woman, she seems to be dressed in an assortment of rags. They don't appear to have been sewn together to fashion any kind of clothing, but rather draped and knotted until they just managed to stay in place.
"Take Granny's advice. Go out, make some friends, and stay out of the shadows: they tend to bite." She punctuates the statement with a sharp jerk towards Qorotl and by clacking her teeth together before devolving into a half laughing, half coughing fit - the staccato of her chortles broken only by guttural gasps for air. She leans against a nearby chair for support, slowly calming herself.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
A disheveled Gith slinks into the room, seemingly ashamed to be there.
A goblin, and a thrice damned drow. Vlakiths tears, first the raid at the creche, now they've chased me all the way through the dark to this place. When will I be rid of them. No help for it now, without my weapons I'd best keep my distance.
She finds a space as far from the drow and goblin as she can and scans the room for danger, and any loose purse-strings. Perception: 11
She mutters to herself, in Gith "Food first. And lodgings. I will need a weapon and armor but first I must have food. Gods, how long has it been since I've eaten." She shudders as she remembers some of the things she's had to eat over the last few weeks.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Dugar Rilsky,Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
A Tiefling, male, heavily adorned in make-up, Jewlery and bright colorful clothes stumbles into the bar, panting. His make-up is smeared and there are smudges of dirt and grime all over his clothes.
In a decision, which he now realizes was foolish, to come to the underdark in search of musical business opportunities, all he found was prejudice against his red skin and horns, and a gang of dark elves wandering the streets who stole from him, chased after him, yelling hateful words all the way.
at least he's escaped from that nightmare now. He's heartbroken to be without his lute, but always the optimist, he begins whistling a melodic tune, searching for any pitiful bar goers who could spare coin, or offer a friendly face.
Weaslen returned Tursyn's smile with a mix of relief and nostalgia in his eyes. "I'm glad to see you too, Tursyn. I was starting to lose hope of ever seeing a friendly face again." He paused, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions before he continued. "As for the others... I'm not sure. But if there's a chance they made it out..Waeslen pauses mid sentence...Tursyn, Listen. This tune is known to us. This is the same Bard from the camp.” As the Tiefling Bard whistles the familiar tune, Waeslen's heart skips a beat as he realizes he knows this melody all too well. Memories of his time in the drow slaver camp flood his mind, and he looks up to see the Bard's face with a mix of disbelief and relief. “It is good to see that you made it out my friend" Waeslen whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the melody.
Noting the flamboyant Tiefling's hurried entrance Qela thinks to herself, 'He looks like he's been through almost as rough a time as myself. And from the look of him more recently still.'
She points her finger to the floor in front of him and draws on the little magical training she had before her creche was raided to cast mage hand. She wrote in the dust before him, 'You look like you could use someone to watch your back. Come to the dark corner furthest from the bar. You won't see me until I wish it, but Come see me before you get yourself into any more trouble.'
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Dugar Rilsky,Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
The Tieflings eyes, one blue and one purple, light up with excitement to see two familiar faces, In the Goblin and the Aasimar, even though their faces equally bring back pain from the past. Even though this turn of events catches him of guard, never forgetting his flair, he brings the tune to an impressive crescendo and then a finale. "I am equally ecstatic for your survivals, and even more because you have called us friends! Oh, but where are my performer's manners? In all of that... commotion, earlier on, I forgot to introduce myself! The name's Foley, and it is a pleasure to meet you two properly, not under the hateful eyes of a Drow slaver, curse them!"
Foley offers a grin, which quickly changes into a curious stare, as something on the ground catches his eyes. The dust on the floor below is being reshaped to form outlines of letters? words? sentences? But what the writing says is even more intriguing to explorer like himself. 'You look like you could use someone to watch your back. Come to the dark corner furthest from the bar. You won't see me until I wish it, but Come see me before you get yourself into any more trouble.'
The stare forms into another grin as he understands. Nothing is better for Foley than opportunity. "Well reacquainted, but yet another opportunity for friendship is before me, literally! look down! Come with me, and perhaps we can find another friendly face in this fortuitous bar today!" Foley tugs at the arms of his friends, and whether they come or not, will bound over to the corner of the room, looking for someone to claim authorship of the mysterious note. Today is only on the up and up, save for my lack of all possessions! Foley thinks to himself
A disheveled Gith slinks into the room, seemingly ashamed to be there.
A goblin, and a thrice damned drow. Vlakiths tears, first the raid at the creche, now they've chased me all the way through the dark to this place. When will I be rid of them. No help for it now, without my weapons I'd best keep my distance.
She finds a space as far from the drow and goblin as she can and scans the room for danger, and any loose purse-strings. Perception: 21
She mutters to herself, in Gith "Food first. And lodgings. I will need a weapon and armor but first I must have food. Gods, how long has it been since I've eaten." She shudders as she remembers some of the things she's had to eat over the last few weeks.
(( Yeah, with a 21... hm.. )) *There are 3 patrons who seem possibly drunk and oblivious enough to easily swipe the coin purse off...*
((~~As for the others headed to the corner... I'll let your story play out a few more posts...well done.))
The trio finishes their song, and Barkeep yells out ~ "Hells, lads, play something a might chipper fer a change!"
The three exchange glances between him and each other before the lyreist shrugs and changes to more guitarish style vs violin, setting down his bow.
She stepped out of the shadows where she was hidden and beckoned them over. But does not sit as they approach in case she has to run. Or fight.
Hail, strangers. We look to have all lived interesting lives recently. I have been looking for someone to watch my back while I sleep, and to help in obtaining food and shelter. I thought I had found one who could use me help but see now that they had aid already.
As the music picks up pace she takes one more look around at the targets she'd marked. Now is the time.
I think I can get us food and lodgings for the night. Watch my back, and if anyone makes note of me make some sort or distraction.
And with that she stalks through the room to swipe the coin purses she'd noted. As a cover she acts like a barmaid collecting cups and plates to return to the kitchen.
To speed things up I might put rolls and such in a spoiler, with as many options as I can think of and let you choose what you do with the dice :)
A sleight of hand check, obviously, but you could ask for 3 to get all 3 purses. I'll assume advantage since (hopefully) the others will be helping
So 6 dice rolls, and I'll split them to make it easy to see which are paired.
"There, there deary. Do try to perk up." Qorotl hears a gentle, raspy voice console as a small hand gently pats his back.
Looking down he sees a small, elderly deep gnome standing by him. Barely up to his knees, the woman offers a slightly too toothy smile - the muscles under her loose purple skin pulling themselves into a semblance of pity, though her dark eyes remain blank. Taking a longer moment to observe the woman, she seems to be dressed in an assortment of rags. They don't appear to have been sewn together to fashion any kind of clothing, but rather draped and knotted until they just managed to stay in place.
"Take Granny's advice. Go out, make some friends, and stay out of the shadows: they tend to bite." She punctuates the statement with a sharp jerk towards Qorotl and by clacking her teeth together before devolving into a half laughing, half coughing fit - the staccato of her chortles broken only by guttural gasps for air. She leans against a nearby chair for support, slowly calming herself.
"Friends...?" He croaks, his voice a rasp from underuse; "friends are for those with a future. And my future fell well short at birth." He drops his head again, this time with a not so subtle thud against the table. "But... thank you for your concern." His sigh is slightly easier, perhaps some small semblance of relief being granted by the old woman's words.
She stepped out of the shadows where she was hidden and beckoned them over. But does not sit as they approach in case she has to run. Or fight.
Hail, strangers. We look to have all lived interesting lives recently. I have been looking for someone to watch my back while I sleep, and to help in obtaining food and shelter. I thought I had found one who could use me help but see now that they had aid already.
As the music picks up pace she takes one more look around at the targets she'd marked. Now is the time.
I think I can get us food and lodgings for the night. Watch my back, and if anyone makes note of me make some sort or distraction.
And with that she stalks through the room to swipe the coin purses she'd noted. As a cover she acts like a barmaid collecting cups and plates to return to the kitchen.
To speed things up I might put rolls and such in a spoiler, with as many options as I can think of and let you choose what you do with the dice :)
A sleight of hand check, obviously, but you could ask for 3 to get all 3 purses. I'll assume advantage since (hopefully) the others will be helping
So 6 dice rolls, and I'll split them to make it easy to see which are paired.
1: 13 & 24
2: 9 & 23
3: 16 & 10
Fingers crossed :P
Foley is scared out of his boots (not literally, his boots were already stolen) when he hears this voice behind him, and he whips around to be doubly surprised to see a Gith! Before he has a good chance to react, she curtly explains the plan and takes off. He's never met a Githyanki before who didn't hate him immediately, but the day is still young, so he cooperates with the plan. A distraction is a task right down his alley. Besides, he'd been wanting to tell somebody this story anyway.
Ahem* "Patrons of this truly magnificent pub, your valued attention for just a moment? While i trust your wise well-trained ears have heard quite a few tales here in this pub, I do wonder, if any of you have ever heard of "The Tale of the Leaky Dragon"? It's quite a good time, if you care to hear it."
"Friends...?" He croaks, his voice a rasp from underuse; "friends are for those with a future. And my future fell well short at birth." He drops his head again, this time with a not so subtle thud against the table. "But... thank you for your concern." His sigh is slightly easier, perhaps some small semblance of relief being granted by the old woman's words.
"Pull yourself together child!" The gnome woman exclaims, each word paired with a swift kick to the drow's shins. The blows are not strong enough to hurt, though the action is surprising in and of itself. "Now look there!" Qorotl feels a hand on the back of his head grasp a handful of hair and yank it upwards, forcing his head to lift slightly. The gnome, still by his feet, points enthusiastically towards Foley. "That nice red man is going to be telling a story, you'll go listen until you feel better!" The force holding Qorotl's head aloft suddenly disappears, dropping his face once more into the table. It is replaced by the woman's attempts to physically pull the drow from his chair, though they are extremely ineffectual.
More effective than she thinks. Qorotl is a true believer of the drow matriarchal standard. The women are the leaders, and the men are second-class everything. Whether or not she understands his situation, she has ordered him to move.
"Yes, ma'am. Right away."
So he moves. He's a sniveling coward at the best of times, but at least he'll follow orders. That's about all we're good for...
Tursyn hid his flinch as Foley tugged on his arm, but followed his newfound friends to the corner.
When the Githyanki appeared, Tursyn startled and stepped back, hiding behind Foley. He calmed down as he listened to her plan, giving another small smile. The Githyaki’s offer was too generous. Grateful, Tursyn complied and slipped into the crowd of patrons. He spoke up, hoping to draw attention away from the Githyanki and onto Foley. “The Tale of the Leaky Dragon? How… how can a dragon be leaky?” Nearby, he noticed a Drow and Deep Gnome. It was childish, how Tursyn’s reaction upon seeing the Drow was to lower his gaze and bow his head. But it was a hard habit to break.
Qela glances up from her task as she tries to fleece the second drunk, seeing the drow moving towards the others she starts and almost reaches for her sword before remembering that she lost it in the underdark weeks ago.
No help for it now. At least if he attacks I'll have some cover to finish this task and escape.
OOC: Can not wait for Qela and Qorotl to interact. Or anyone for that matter - a drow in this group is going to be wild for roleplay :)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Dugar Rilsky,Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
Tursyn hid his flinch as Foley tugged on his arm, but followed his newfound friends to the corner.
When the Githyanki appeared, Tursyn startled and stepped back, hiding behind Foley. He calmed down as he listened to her plan, giving another small smile. The Githyaki’s offer was too generous. Grateful, Tursyn complied and slipped into the crowd of patrons. He spoke up, hoping to draw attention away from the Githyanki and onto Foley. “The Tale of the Leaky Dragon? How… how can a dragon be leaky?” Nearby, he noticed a Drow and Deep Gnome. It was childish, how Tursyn’s reaction upon seeing the Drow was to lower his gaze and bow his head. But it was a hard habit to break.
"Well, Thats exactly what I thought when first I met his mother! Gather round, one and all, and perk your ears up for a tale that will leave you bewildered, amused, and perhaps a little more drunk than you were before!" Foley sends an appreciative wink and an understanding, hopefully comforting smile in hopes that Tursyn will look up for a second and see it. He knows why Tursyn suddenly changed, and Foley definitely felt that instinct too. Luckily as a performer, he just did a better job hiding it.
*I've put the story of the leaky dragon, which I did write, not AI, as a spoiler, to show it is not required reading. I enjoyed writing it but I understand if you don't have the interest to read it through
**Also, it should be noted that the story is a tall tale, and not a real event that happened to my character. After all, it's the idea, not the facts, that matter in one of Foley's stories.
"Now, I'm sure you know a thing or two about unprecedented encounters down here in the Underdark. After all, were else would you find Humans, Dwarfs, A Tiefling, Drow, Gith, Aasimar, Goblin and a Gnome all eating and drinking and chattering round the same Trough? Not to say of course that this fine establishment is a mere Trough, just a manner of speaking, of course!
But anyway, take the most insane thing you've found down here and imagine it tenfold! Here we go!
Many moons ago now, I was on tour with my traveling band, 'Our Two Gold Pieces', and had just struck up our first song 'Lyre, Lyre, Garments on Fire' to quite the roaring crowd when we heard a series of terrible shrieks from the cave nearby, and they did not stop. The town we were touring in was on most days a quiet town, mind you, as it is an important detail in the following events. From the cave, a most horrible adult chromatic dragon swooped out and breathed a wrath of fire into the dark above. It dove towards the stage and began torching the equipment everywhere. Everyone else was all okay so far, thank the bards, but it had caused a great panic. Then this infuriated dragon set down on the stage, and began a slow crawl towards my band, and I. I was most terrified. Then in a common tounge it said, and you will never guess the words spoke next, 'You woke my baby with all of this ruckus. Do you know what putting a baby back to sleep is?'
Then the mother looked out towards the crowd, but most had fled. Then the dragon turned back to me. 'It'll need a snack to calm its mighty temper, you know how children can be... Well since everyone has fled, I guess you know what happens next.' The dragon. Wanted to make a snack. OUT OF ME. I had seconds to save myself and my bard friends, but how? Well, here was the best I could come up with: 'Oh wait, I'm so sorry for the disturbance! Do not be so hasty as to make a poor tasting snack out of me, but surely, I can help?' The dragon carefully considered my words, and with a sigh said 'Oh very well. Calm my baby to a sleep at once, or Ill have no choice but to make you a morsel'.
Well, here was my shot. My life was all on the temper of a baby dragon, and my ability to calm it, mind you I am no father. But I had no choice. 'By the way, my baby is quite leaky. The diapers are in the cave on the right.' And that, you see, is where the 'leaky' comes into play. When I approached the little one, still taller than me by two whole feet, it had quite the stench, a stench only a mother could love. It did in fact need a change. I approached with caution, a single wrong move and I could be mauled by a baby. Ill spare you the details, but let me tell you, changing a dragon's diaper is no easy feat. By some luck though, and a lot of parental skills I never knew I had in me, the baby dragon stopped its shrieking when me and my crew began to change it. Soon, it was snoring and sound asleep. The mama dragon was so impressed, that she granted me a gift from her horde of wealth, the very earrings I wear right now in fact. Well, that was the end of it all. I hope you've chuckled like I do whenever I recall that night."
Foley looks around, hopeful that his small crowd enjoyed the tale as much as he did tell it.
edit: also, hopeful that their pockets were picked empty while they listened
The vast caverns loom before you, dripping, echoing, and flooding the senses with experiences different to those of the surface.
The air is wet and cold, and apart from the ambient sounds of untamed underground comes the bustle of a small city... Journey's End~
A mix a magic, fire, crystal, and luminous fungi dimly light this mixed community of passersby. A place of ill-repute, many shady types from the surface can occasionally be spotted 'doing business' here with the denizens of the deep. Those of the underground know this as 'a gate city', one of several where surface dwellers may be found.
///
Your party (yet unformed) find themselves here for various reasons and by different means. Some have nearly escaped being sold as slaves. Some may call this underworld home. Others...may yet have been determined or discovered...
...but whatever the case, this is where you are at the present time, and you find yourselves feeling hungry, in need of aid, and converging in what seems to a local pub.
(Each of you has opportunity to introduce your characters... who/what they are, where they are, what they're doing, how they got there... and interact if you see fit.)
Waeslen the goblin had always been a curious and adventurous spirit. As a Circle of Spores druid, he had spent many years exploring the dark and mysterious corners of the Underdark.
But his latest adventure had taken a dangerous turn. Captured by Drow slavers and held captive for far too long, Waeslen finally managed to escape, using his abilities to slip away under cover of darkness. Now, he found himself alone and helpless in a small Underdark city called Journey's End, without any resources or equipment to his name.
As Waeslen cautiously crept through the dimly-lit streets of Journey's End, he couldn't shake the memories of his captivity at the hands of the Drow Slavers. The fear and desperation he felt as he fought tooth and nail for his freedom haunted him, but he knew he had to focus on surviving in this strange underdark city.
Foraging for some edible mushrooms to quell his hunger, Waeslen couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as he wondered if any of the other prisoners had managed to escape alongside him. He knew that strength in numbers would be crucial for his survival in this unforgiving environment.
After filling his belly with the mushrooms, Waeslen decided to head to the local bar in hopes of finding some of the other escapees he had seen flee in the chaos of the night. As he scanned the faces of the patrons, he realized that he didn't recognize anyone. But just as he was about to give up hope, a familiar figure caught his eye…Hey, It’s you....(waiting for another character)
“Weaslen?” Tursyn asked, his eyes wide. He rubbed his eyes with the dirty, frayed sleeve of his tunic. Still, the goblin remained in his line of sight. He wasn’t a trick of the aasimar’s mind, but a tangible, familiar face.
He swallowed, ignoring the scratch in his sore throat. Tursyn was born as a slave in the Underdark, where the harsh conditions and cruelty of the drow slavers took their toll on him. He was malnourished, with a gaunt face and sunken eyes, and his hands suffered a constant tremor. Since childhood, he resigned himself to his inevitable fate: he would die as a slave.
Then the drow slavers’ latest captives fought and fled into the night. Their escape had inspired Tursyn, igniting the fire of resistance within him. Like them, he clawed his way out of captivity, surviving by the skin of his teeth. Perhaps it was because of his resilience as a Path of Berserker barbarian that he survived. Perhaps it was something else entirely, unknown and untouchable to him. Regardless, Tursyn ran as far away as his feet could take him… and found himself in Journey’s End.
Hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, he had wandered through the shadowed streets of the city. Seeking a moment of reprieve, he went inside the nearest pub, and the reality of his freedom sunk in. Freedom. He savoured the word on his tongue and wondered what it meant to be free; what he could do with it.
He walked towards Waeslen. A small, strained smile appeared on his face. “I’m glad... I'm glad you escaped. Do you know if anyone else is here? Or if... if they're alive?”
hello! i'm vii or 7. pronouns are any.
Several patrons can be seen coming, stay, or going. The atmosphere of the bar is somewhat lively and comforting in contrast to the fear, lonlieness, and danger off the underdark.
Two barmaids, one human and the other dwarven, can be seen serving tables and attending to rooms as well as the Pech barkeep with various needs. In the northeast corner of the room resides a small trio of varying origin playing an upbeat, albeit haunting melody from their instruments. ( F.E: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO-55BVKQ9k )
They seem to pay little mind to anyone that doesn't deliberatley call for their attention. A couple patrons give sideways glances, but nothing beyond the usual wariness of those who inhabit such places.
A drow in rags sits in the corner. His name is Qorotl, but those know him simply call him Rot. No one knows him here, a small blessing by his standard. For better or worse, his is an accursed life, even moreso now that he's fled his murder charge. But it wasn't his fault. Nothing was ever his fault.
He was just the one to survive the ritual. For that, he would hang. Instead he ran. But why? Males need not seek purpose, as they are destined to failure. Such as was his destiny. And yet...
He finds himself pulled from his thoughts by excitable chatter, he expects to find guards being pointed to his location. Instead, two strange men, one a goblin and the other peculiar in appearance, seem to be discussing some grand crisis of fate. Rot watches for a few moments before returning to his regimen of wallowing in his own self-pity.
"There, there deary. Do try to perk up." Qorotl hears a gentle, raspy voice console as a small hand gently pats his back.
Looking down he sees a small, elderly deep gnome standing by him. Barely up to his knees, the woman offers a slightly too toothy smile - the muscles under her loose purple skin pulling themselves into a semblance of pity, though her dark eyes remain blank. Taking a longer moment to observe the woman, she seems to be dressed in an assortment of rags. They don't appear to have been sewn together to fashion any kind of clothing, but rather draped and knotted until they just managed to stay in place.
"Take Granny's advice. Go out, make some friends, and stay out of the shadows: they tend to bite." She punctuates the statement with a sharp jerk towards Qorotl and by clacking her teeth together before devolving into a half laughing, half coughing fit - the staccato of her chortles broken only by guttural gasps for air. She leans against a nearby chair for support, slowly calming herself.
A disheveled Gith slinks into the room, seemingly ashamed to be there.
A goblin, and a thrice damned drow. Vlakiths tears, first the raid at the creche, now they've chased me all the way through the dark to this place. When will I be rid of them. No help for it now, without my weapons I'd best keep my distance.
She finds a space as far from the drow and goblin as she can and scans the room for danger, and any loose purse-strings. Perception: 11
She mutters to herself, in Gith "Food first. And lodgings. I will need a weapon and armor but first I must have food. Gods, how long has it been since I've eaten." She shudders as she remembers some of the things she's had to eat over the last few weeks.
Dugar Rilsky, Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
Konstatin Markilov, Dhampir Lore Bard (retired)
Qela, Githyanki Gloomstalker Ranger
Thistlebottom, Fairy Swarmkeeper Ranger
A Tiefling, male, heavily adorned in make-up, Jewlery and bright colorful clothes stumbles into the bar, panting. His make-up is smeared and there are smudges of dirt and grime all over his clothes.
In a decision, which he now realizes was foolish, to come to the underdark in search of musical business opportunities, all he found was prejudice against his red skin and horns, and a gang of dark elves wandering the streets who stole from him, chased after him, yelling hateful words all the way.
at least he's escaped from that nightmare now. He's heartbroken to be without his lute, but always the optimist, he begins whistling a melodic tune, searching for any pitiful bar goers who could spare coin, or offer a friendly face.
Weaslen returned Tursyn's smile with a mix of relief and nostalgia in his eyes. "I'm glad to see you too, Tursyn. I was starting to lose hope of ever seeing a friendly face again." He paused, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions before he continued. "As for the others... I'm not sure. But if there's a chance they made it out..Waeslen pauses mid sentence...Tursyn, Listen. This tune is known to us. This is the same Bard from the camp.” As the Tiefling Bard whistles the familiar tune, Waeslen's heart skips a beat as he realizes he knows this melody all too well. Memories of his time in the drow slaver camp flood his mind, and he looks up to see the Bard's face with a mix of disbelief and relief. “It is good to see that you made it out my friend" Waeslen whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the melody.
Noting the flamboyant Tiefling's hurried entrance Qela thinks to herself, 'He looks like he's been through almost as rough a time as myself. And from the look of him more recently still.'
She points her finger to the floor in front of him and draws on the little magical training she had before her creche was raided to cast mage hand. She wrote in the dust before him, 'You look like you could use someone to watch your back. Come to the dark corner furthest from the bar. You won't see me until I wish it, but Come see me before you get yourself into any more trouble.'
Dugar Rilsky, Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
Konstatin Markilov, Dhampir Lore Bard (retired)
Qela, Githyanki Gloomstalker Ranger
Thistlebottom, Fairy Swarmkeeper Ranger
The Tieflings eyes, one blue and one purple, light up with excitement to see two familiar faces, In the Goblin and the Aasimar, even though their faces equally bring back pain from the past. Even though this turn of events catches him of guard, never forgetting his flair, he brings the tune to an impressive crescendo and then a finale. "I am equally ecstatic for your survivals, and even more because you have called us friends! Oh, but where are my performer's manners? In all of that... commotion, earlier on, I forgot to introduce myself! The name's Foley, and it is a pleasure to meet you two properly, not under the hateful eyes of a Drow slaver, curse them!"
Foley offers a grin, which quickly changes into a curious stare, as something on the ground catches his eyes. The dust on the floor below is being reshaped to form outlines of letters? words? sentences? But what the writing says is even more intriguing to explorer like himself. 'You look like you could use someone to watch your back. Come to the dark corner furthest from the bar. You won't see me until I wish it, but Come see me before you get yourself into any more trouble.'
The stare forms into another grin as he understands. Nothing is better for Foley than opportunity. "Well reacquainted, but yet another opportunity for friendship is before me, literally! look down! Come with me, and perhaps we can find another friendly face in this fortuitous bar today!" Foley tugs at the arms of his friends, and whether they come or not, will bound over to the corner of the room, looking for someone to claim authorship of the mysterious note. Today is only on the up and up, save for my lack of all possessions! Foley thinks to himself
(( Yeah, with a 21... hm.. )) *There are 3 patrons who seem possibly drunk and oblivious enough to easily swipe the coin purse off...*
((~~As for the others headed to the corner... I'll let your story play out a few more posts...well done.))
The trio finishes their song, and Barkeep yells out ~ "Hells, lads, play something a might chipper fer a change!"
The three exchange glances between him and each other before the lyreist shrugs and changes to more guitarish style vs violin, setting down his bow.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhT_fjiYds8
*hiss* So many. And a goblin too.
She stepped out of the shadows where she was hidden and beckoned them over. But does not sit as they approach in case she has to run. Or fight.
Hail, strangers. We look to have all lived interesting lives recently. I have been looking for someone to watch my back while I sleep, and to help in obtaining food and shelter. I thought I had found one who could use me help but see now that they had aid already.
As the music picks up pace she takes one more look around at the targets she'd marked. Now is the time.
I think I can get us food and lodgings for the night. Watch my back, and if anyone makes note of me make some sort or distraction.
And with that she stalks through the room to swipe the coin purses she'd noted. As a cover she acts like a barmaid collecting cups and plates to return to the kitchen.
To speed things up I might put rolls and such in a spoiler, with as many options as I can think of and let you choose what you do with the dice :)
A sleight of hand check, obviously, but you could ask for 3 to get all 3 purses. I'll assume advantage since (hopefully) the others will be helping
So 6 dice rolls, and I'll split them to make it easy to see which are paired.
1: 18 & 25
2: 20 & 7
3: 13 & 11
Fingers crossed :P
Dugar Rilsky, Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
Konstatin Markilov, Dhampir Lore Bard (retired)
Qela, Githyanki Gloomstalker Ranger
Thistlebottom, Fairy Swarmkeeper Ranger
"Friends...?" He croaks, his voice a rasp from underuse; "friends are for those with a future. And my future fell well short at birth." He drops his head again, this time with a not so subtle thud against the table. "But... thank you for your concern." His sigh is slightly easier, perhaps some small semblance of relief being granted by the old woman's words.
Foley is scared out of his boots (not literally, his boots were already stolen) when he hears this voice behind him, and he whips around to be doubly surprised to see a Gith! Before he has a good chance to react, she curtly explains the plan and takes off. He's never met a Githyanki before who didn't hate him immediately, but the day is still young, so he cooperates with the plan. A distraction is a task right down his alley. Besides, he'd been wanting to tell somebody this story anyway.
Ahem* "Patrons of this truly magnificent pub, your valued attention for just a moment? While i trust your wise well-trained ears have heard quite a few tales here in this pub, I do wonder, if any of you have ever heard of "The Tale of the Leaky Dragon"? It's quite a good time, if you care to hear it."
"Pull yourself together child!" The gnome woman exclaims, each word paired with a swift kick to the drow's shins. The blows are not strong enough to hurt, though the action is surprising in and of itself. "Now look there!" Qorotl feels a hand on the back of his head grasp a handful of hair and yank it upwards, forcing his head to lift slightly. The gnome, still by his feet, points enthusiastically towards Foley. "That nice red man is going to be telling a story, you'll go listen until you feel better!" The force holding Qorotl's head aloft suddenly disappears, dropping his face once more into the table. It is replaced by the woman's attempts to physically pull the drow from his chair, though they are extremely ineffectual.
More effective than she thinks. Qorotl is a true believer of the drow matriarchal standard. The women are the leaders, and the men are second-class everything. Whether or not she understands his situation, she has ordered him to move.
"Yes, ma'am. Right away."
So he moves. He's a sniveling coward at the best of times, but at least he'll follow orders. That's about all we're good for...
Tursyn hid his flinch as Foley tugged on his arm, but followed his newfound friends to the corner.
When the Githyanki appeared, Tursyn startled and stepped back, hiding behind Foley. He calmed down as he listened to her plan, giving another small smile. The Githyaki’s offer was too generous. Grateful, Tursyn complied and slipped into the crowd of patrons. He spoke up, hoping to draw attention away from the Githyanki and onto Foley. “The Tale of the Leaky Dragon? How… how can a dragon be leaky?”
Nearby, he noticed a Drow and Deep Gnome. It was childish, how Tursyn’s reaction upon seeing the Drow was to lower his gaze and bow his head. But it was a hard habit to break.
hello! i'm vii or 7. pronouns are any.
Qela glances up from her task as she tries to fleece the second drunk, seeing the drow moving towards the others she starts and almost reaches for her sword before remembering that she lost it in the underdark weeks ago.
No help for it now. At least if he attacks I'll have some cover to finish this task and escape.
OOC: Can not wait for Qela and Qorotl to interact. Or anyone for that matter - a drow in this group is going to be wild for roleplay :)
Dugar Rilsky, Reborn Undying Warlock / Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (retired)
Konstatin Markilov, Dhampir Lore Bard (retired)
Qela, Githyanki Gloomstalker Ranger
Thistlebottom, Fairy Swarmkeeper Ranger
"Well, Thats exactly what I thought when first I met his mother! Gather round, one and all, and perk your ears up for a tale that will leave you bewildered, amused, and perhaps a little more drunk than you were before!" Foley sends an appreciative wink and an understanding, hopefully comforting smile in hopes that Tursyn will look up for a second and see it. He knows why Tursyn suddenly changed, and Foley definitely felt that instinct too. Luckily as a performer, he just did a better job hiding it.
*I've put the story of the leaky dragon, which I did write, not AI, as a spoiler, to show it is not required reading. I enjoyed writing it but I understand if you don't have the interest to read it through
**Also, it should be noted that the story is a tall tale, and not a real event that happened to my character. After all, it's the idea, not the facts, that matter in one of Foley's stories.
"Now, I'm sure you know a thing or two about unprecedented encounters down here in the Underdark. After all, were else would you find Humans, Dwarfs, A Tiefling, Drow, Gith, Aasimar, Goblin and a Gnome all eating and drinking and chattering round the same Trough? Not to say of course that this fine establishment is a mere Trough, just a manner of speaking, of course!
But anyway, take the most insane thing you've found down here and imagine it tenfold! Here we go!
Many moons ago now, I was on tour with my traveling band, 'Our Two Gold Pieces', and had just struck up our first song 'Lyre, Lyre, Garments on Fire' to quite the roaring crowd when we heard a series of terrible shrieks from the cave nearby, and they did not stop. The town we were touring in was on most days a quiet town, mind you, as it is an important detail in the following events. From the cave, a most horrible adult chromatic dragon swooped out and breathed a wrath of fire into the dark above. It dove towards the stage and began torching the equipment everywhere. Everyone else was all okay so far, thank the bards, but it had caused a great panic. Then this infuriated dragon set down on the stage, and began a slow crawl towards my band, and I. I was most terrified. Then in a common tounge it said, and you will never guess the words spoke next, 'You woke my baby with all of this ruckus. Do you know what putting a baby back to sleep is?'
Then the mother looked out towards the crowd, but most had fled. Then the dragon turned back to me. 'It'll need a snack to calm its mighty temper, you know how children can be... Well since everyone has fled, I guess you know what happens next.' The dragon. Wanted to make a snack. OUT OF ME. I had seconds to save myself and my bard friends, but how? Well, here was the best I could come up with: 'Oh wait, I'm so sorry for the disturbance! Do not be so hasty as to make a poor tasting snack out of me, but surely, I can help?' The dragon carefully considered my words, and with a sigh said 'Oh very well. Calm my baby to a sleep at once, or Ill have no choice but to make you a morsel'.
Well, here was my shot. My life was all on the temper of a baby dragon, and my ability to calm it, mind you I am no father. But I had no choice. 'By the way, my baby is quite leaky. The diapers are in the cave on the right.' And that, you see, is where the 'leaky' comes into play. When I approached the little one, still taller than me by two whole feet, it had quite the stench, a stench only a mother could love. It did in fact need a change. I approached with caution, a single wrong move and I could be mauled by a baby. Ill spare you the details, but let me tell you, changing a dragon's diaper is no easy feat. By some luck though, and a lot of parental skills I never knew I had in me, the baby dragon stopped its shrieking when me and my crew began to change it. Soon, it was snoring and sound asleep. The mama dragon was so impressed, that she granted me a gift from her horde of wealth, the very earrings I wear right now in fact. Well, that was the end of it all. I hope you've chuckled like I do whenever I recall that night."
Foley looks around, hopeful that his small crowd enjoyed the tale as much as he did tell it.
edit: also, hopeful that their pockets were picked empty while they listened