Nestled amid the foothills of the 'Spires of Kharub' in the North East Abaduzin Republic, the town of Caer Blaine stands as a beacon for hope for those that have had everything taken from them. The war between the Republic and the Dradenkar Dominion to the West have taken many lives, and enslaved many more. Deep in the mines of of the Angavin Mountains in the Dominion a group known as the 'Devil's of Luthaan' freed thousands of slaves from Dominion grasp, and led them to the safety of the Republic. These slaves have rebuilt and settled in a previously razed town of Caer Blaine.
The town has seen great prosperity in just the few months of its existence, thanks in no small part to the leadership of the Devils themselves. However, as usual, the Devils are gone again, off doing Gods know what. Despite the general upswing of things, there is no shortage of dangers. Feral animals still roam the mostly untamed wilderness nearby. Rumors of demons prowling the trails at night are told over pints of ale at the tavern. There are even whispers of the dead walking in the North. Though the freed populace of Caer Blaine is safe for the moment, that safety is never guaranteed.
The final leaves of fall begin to gently float to the ground, and the first snow flakes of winter flow past. The characters find themselves in a tavern called 'The Devil's Grip' after yet another long day rebuilding one of the homes of the outskirts of town. Almost everyone has a place to sleep for winter, but it will be cramped for many.
"Hey, Greshak!" A small gnome heavily laden with pints of beer calls to a large Half-Orc. "Tell Jasper he can't keeping payin' with credit!" The Half Orc grumbles in return, barely acknowledging the gnome.
"I'm good for it I swear!" A tall thin human pleads at the gnome. "Just give me a couple days. Once that next shipment comes in from Luthaan I'll..."
"Bah..." The gnome waves him off and continues on delivering pints to her customers.
Please describe your character, a little bit of backstory into how you got into Caer Blaine (former slave, heard about it, etc...), and what you're doing in the tavern.
A tall man enters the tavern a great-sword on his back in a set of chain armor, after being a soldier for the republic he left the army in pursuit of glory and personal riches, after leaving his home to join the army he would rather not go back not now at least. But before adventure one needs food, ale, and rest.
Liet, a thin halfling with ashen features and skeletal white eyes,was captured as a Dominion slave in the underground caves (underdark?) at one point, but being small and quiet he was able to slip away from the slave pens. Though he remained trapped in the mines for a number of months, unable to find an exit. He survived mostly on conjured berries, hiding in small alcoves, or under equipment; lighting the way with a conjured fire, or staying silent in the pitch black when needed. He tried adding bits of sabotage here and there when possible, but it's not easy to do much alone.
One day he heard fighting when a group of the Devils came down on one of their slave freeing runs, and followed behind to finally get back to the light of day. Finding his way to the town of Caer Blaine, he followed a group of adventurers to the tavern, he uses a small bit of the coins he'd scavenged during his time underground and ordered himself the first hot meal he'd had in... well too long to remember. Generally a rather perceptive halfling, he's right now focused quite intently on his meal.
"Excuse me, may I rent out a room and get some food and ale."
"What what?" The gnome replies hurriedly as she sets the pints on a nearby table. "Oh yes, just leave the coin on the bar there, two silver. I'll get to it in a bit. And if you don't pay, Greshak here will thump you.."
"No I won't," The Half-Orc grumbled.
"Some bouncer you are," The gnome chides, quickly making her way to another table to wipe it down.
"For the hundredth time, I'm not your bouncer..." The large half orc ambles away toward the entrance of the tavern and stares out the window.
Another man walks into the tavern. He wears chain mail, covered by a tunic with the symbol of his Goddess. On each hip he holds a mace, and a large shield rests on his back. Theos lived in the temple for most of his life, but has now come to Caer Blain to accomplish what he believes is his holy mission, to help the people of this town.
"I'd like to get something to eat. No ale please, just water."
Another man walks into the tavern. He wears chain mail, covered by a tunic with the symbol of his Goddess. On each hip he holds a mace, and a large shield rests on his back. Theos lived in the temple for most of his life, but has now come to Caer Blain to accomplish what he believes is his holy mission, to help the people of this town.
"I'd like to get something to eat. No ale please, just water."
A good many of the patrons stop their conversation at that last request. After spending years in the mines with nothing but water, which was often dirty, most of the denizens of Caer Blaine have relished in the opportunity to have ale and wine once again.
"Good good, just go to the kitchen and help yourself..." The gnome nods at the symbol on his tunic. "She'd take care of you before I could if you did anything nefarious... Please have a seat with the little one over there." She nods again but at Liet this time.
"The last two open tables are reserved I'm afraid." She dissapears behind a table that is just a hair taller than she is. "Give it a few minutes," she calls behind the furniture as she sets more pints down. "The bard will come to sing for his supper again... Have a chat, and the music should start soon."
As Theos sits down by Liet he's just finishing his meal, and leans back in his chair, sighing contentedly. He nods at Theos and says "much better now thanks." adding "You coming from far?"
OOC note: Liet is definitely thin for a halfling, but his skin coloring is from being a Ghostwise Halfling
"Yea. Far enough, although my Goddess brought me here safely. You know anything of this town? Or are you too a traveler?" Theos says, as he begins to relax in his seat.
The tavern door opens and a dwarf stands in the threshold assessing the room before entering.
“Greshak,” the dwarf begrudgingly acknowledges the half-orc with a nod.
Spotting the gnome he lifts a hand and offers a smile, indicating a desire for his usual plate of grub - pickled fish, mushrooms with jam, and liverworts pie. As he picks his way through the taproom towards an empty table, even the casual observer can tell that Ruhkis Kettlebeard is a veteran of the Republic’s army. Road weary, but well-maintained and familiar looking armor clanks noisily as he settles into his seat – an unoccupied table by the fireplace. His battle-proven battleaxe clangs unceremoniously – and very impolitely – onto the table.
Everything about the dwarf is typical – except for the immaculately trimmed beard. Coal black and full, it hangs half-way down his chest and is squared at the bottom. Woven into his face mane are about a half-dozen clay disks with intricate runes carefully carved into each.
The dwarf is not particularly secretive and a few regulars of The Devil’s Grip have gotten to know Ruhkis just enough to casually exchange pleasantries. His skills with the axe and at the forge have been welcomed as Caer Blaine prepares for winter. Ruhkis notes a couple of new faces tonight in the Grip, but this isn’t too uncommon and he offers a raised eyebrow and a polite nod if eye contact is made.
After eating a meal Kevelor slowly drinks his ale looking around "I wonder how good the bard is"
"They suck," replies Ruhkis, not caring that the question wasn't directed at him. "But I'd keep squawking too if that tone-deaf beardless dwarf wench fed me every night."
"Is that so, then maybe I'll retire for the night early. So dwarf you seem to know your way around here well I assume you live in this town." Kevelor takes a seat at the table with Ruhkis
"So long as they'll have me and I can be of use, yes. I've not seen you around though. Can I buy you an ale? It's little more than watered-down moss tea, but it'll get the job done if you drink enough of it."
Nestled amid the foothills of the 'Spires of Kharub' in the North East Abaduzin Republic, the town of Caer Blaine stands as a beacon for hope for those that have had everything taken from them. The war between the Republic and the Dradenkar Dominion to the West have taken many lives, and enslaved many more. Deep in the mines of of the Angavin Mountains in the Dominion a group known as the 'Devil's of Luthaan' freed thousands of slaves from Dominion grasp, and led them to the safety of the Republic. These slaves have rebuilt and settled in a previously razed town of Caer Blaine.
The town has seen great prosperity in just the few months of its existence, thanks in no small part to the leadership of the Devils themselves. However, as usual, the Devils are gone again, off doing Gods know what. Despite the general upswing of things, there is no shortage of dangers. Feral animals still roam the mostly untamed wilderness nearby. Rumors of demons prowling the trails at night are told over pints of ale at the tavern. There are even whispers of the dead walking in the North. Though the freed populace of Caer Blaine is safe for the moment, that safety is never guaranteed.
The final leaves of fall begin to gently float to the ground, and the first snow flakes of winter flow past. The characters find themselves in a tavern called 'The Devil's Grip' after yet another long day rebuilding one of the homes of the outskirts of town. Almost everyone has a place to sleep for winter, but it will be cramped for many.
"Hey, Greshak!" A small gnome heavily laden with pints of beer calls to a large Half-Orc. "Tell Jasper he can't keeping payin' with credit!" The Half Orc grumbles in return, barely acknowledging the gnome.
"I'm good for it I swear!" A tall thin human pleads at the gnome. "Just give me a couple days. Once that next shipment comes in from Luthaan I'll..."
"Bah..." The gnome waves him off and continues on delivering pints to her customers.
Please describe your character, a little bit of backstory into how you got into Caer Blaine (former slave, heard about it, etc...), and what you're doing in the tavern.
Here's the link to the campaign: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/3079774004507940
A tall man enters the tavern a great-sword on his back in a set of chain armor, after being a soldier for the republic he left the army in pursuit of glory and personal riches, after leaving his home to join the army he would rather not go back not now at least. But before adventure one needs food, ale, and rest.
Liet, a thin halfling with ashen features and skeletal white eyes, was captured as a Dominion slave in the underground caves (underdark?) at one point, but being small and quiet he was able to slip away from the slave pens. Though he remained trapped in the mines for a number of months, unable to find an exit. He survived mostly on conjured berries, hiding in small alcoves, or under equipment; lighting the way with a conjured fire, or staying silent in the pitch black when needed. He tried adding bits of sabotage here and there when possible, but it's not easy to do much alone.
One day he heard fighting when a group of the Devils came down on one of their slave freeing runs, and followed behind to finally get back to the light of day. Finding his way to the town of Caer Blaine, he followed a group of adventurers to the tavern, he uses a small bit of the coins he'd scavenged during his time underground and ordered himself the first hot meal he'd had in... well too long to remember. Generally a rather perceptive halfling, he's right now focused quite intently on his meal.
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
"Excuse me, may I rent out a room and get some food and ale."
"What what?" The gnome replies hurriedly as she sets the pints on a nearby table. "Oh yes, just leave the coin on the bar there, two silver. I'll get to it in a bit. And if you don't pay, Greshak here will thump you.."
"No I won't," The Half-Orc grumbled.
"Some bouncer you are," The gnome chides, quickly making her way to another table to wipe it down.
"For the hundredth time, I'm not your bouncer..." The large half orc ambles away toward the entrance of the tavern and stares out the window.
Kev looks both ways before setting a single gold piece on the bar before finding a somewhat empty area to wait
((You confused me with Kev 😆. That's your character name here yeah?))
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
((I was really confused for a second too, hahaha))
Another man walks into the tavern. He wears chain mail, covered by a tunic with the symbol of his Goddess. On each hip he holds a mace, and a large shield rests on his back. Theos lived in the temple for most of his life, but has now come to Caer Blain to accomplish what he believes is his holy mission, to help the people of this town.
"I'd like to get something to eat. No ale please, just water."
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
A good many of the patrons stop their conversation at that last request. After spending years in the mines with nothing but water, which was often dirty, most of the denizens of Caer Blaine have relished in the opportunity to have ale and wine once again.
"Good good, just go to the kitchen and help yourself..." The gnome nods at the symbol on his tunic. "She'd take care of you before I could if you did anything nefarious... Please have a seat with the little one over there." She nods again but at Liet this time.
"The last two open tables are reserved I'm afraid." She dissapears behind a table that is just a hair taller than she is. "Give it a few minutes," she calls behind the furniture as she sets more pints down. "The bard will come to sing for his supper again... Have a chat, and the music should start soon."
Theos heads off to the kitchen to fetch water. He returns, and takes a seat by the halfling.
"You alright?" He asks, taking in the halfling's pale skin and thin frame.
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
As Theos sits down by Liet he's just finishing his meal, and leans back in his chair, sighing contentedly. He nods at Theos and says "much better now thanks." adding "You coming from far?"
OOC note: Liet is definitely thin for a halfling, but his skin coloring is from being a Ghostwise Halfling
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
"Yea. Far enough, although my Goddess brought me here safely. You know anything of this town? Or are you too a traveler?" Theos says, as he begins to relax in his seat.
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
"Not a thing. Just got in myself. Food was priority." as Theos' meal arrives Liet adds "and enjoy yours sir. Best meal I'd had in months."
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
After eating a meal Kevelor slowly drinks his ale looking around "I wonder how good the bard is"
The tavern door opens and a dwarf stands in the threshold assessing the room before entering.
“Greshak,” the dwarf begrudgingly acknowledges the half-orc with a nod.
Spotting the gnome he lifts a hand and offers a smile, indicating a desire for his usual plate of grub - pickled fish, mushrooms with jam, and liverworts pie. As he picks his way through the taproom towards an empty table, even the casual observer can tell that Ruhkis Kettlebeard is a veteran of the Republic’s army. Road weary, but well-maintained and familiar looking armor clanks noisily as he settles into his seat – an unoccupied table by the fireplace. His battle-proven battleaxe clangs unceremoniously – and very impolitely – onto the table.
Everything about the dwarf is typical – except for the immaculately trimmed beard. Coal black and full, it hangs half-way down his chest and is squared at the bottom. Woven into his face mane are about a half-dozen clay disks with intricate runes carefully carved into each.
The dwarf is not particularly secretive and a few regulars of The Devil’s Grip have gotten to know Ruhkis just enough to casually exchange pleasantries. His skills with the axe and at the forge have been welcomed as Caer Blaine prepares for winter. Ruhkis notes a couple of new faces tonight in the Grip, but this isn’t too uncommon and he offers a raised eyebrow and a polite nod if eye contact is made.
"They suck," replies Ruhkis, not caring that the question wasn't directed at him. "But I'd keep squawking too if that tone-deaf beardless dwarf wench fed me every night."
"Is that so, then maybe I'll retire for the night early. So dwarf you seem to know your way around here well I assume you live in this town." Kevelor takes a seat at the table with Ruhkis
"So long as they'll have me and I can be of use, yes. I've not seen you around though. Can I buy you an ale? It's little more than watered-down moss tea, but it'll get the job done if you drink enough of it."
"I'll never turn down a free drink, and yes I just arrived in town today."
"Oh the drink isn't free, I'm just paying for it. If you drink with a dwarf you better bring a story or a job."
"So which is it?"