A booming serpent slithering through the murky waves of the ocean even as the sun begins its elegant kiss along the emerald expanses, a motley collection of vessels begin to turn towards t he sight of salvation...land. Having weathered the latest trepidation of their journey, the expeditionary fleet of the Kingdom of Malvantia, leader of the Imperial Empire has finally completed its voyage across the uncharted skirts of the vast Taldorian Ocean to far-western lands known only as Rafaria. A lawless territory harboring secrets, riches, and untold horrors...
Captains Log, Voyage Day 87, Solstice Day 153 of Imperial Calendar Year (ICY) 134
I am glad that we have finally made headway in this long and audacious journey...the crews were becoming restless and not even a fortnight ago a mutiny was suppressed amongst one of the civilian tenders. Nerves are at their edges and Emperor save me if I don't throw that blasted Magistrate into the ocean if he opens his whore son mouth one more time thank the Emperor that land has finally been spotted. So far the topography looks promising to what the diviners have seen and landfall should happen within the hour. I can't help but feel though that our arrival is already known...There is something waiting for us here and I hope its what we really came looking for, if not then Emperor have mercy on our souls.
The waves break across the bow of the lead expeditionary vessel, the IMS Savage Waves as it begins to weigh anchor off the coast. Despite dawn having just broken a mere hour beforehand, the air is energized with a fever of excitement. After several months at sea, everyone is thankful to be within the range of land once more and already Guardsmen are marshaling on the decks ready to make for land. The first embarkation wave has already been sent from the shallower vessels, the twin destroyers IMS Rebound and Retort as they sail closer to the shoreline. Ahead the thick canopy of the coastline is broken only by the jagged outcroppings of what appear to be marshland at regular intervals with no change in sight. A small bay sheltered by the worst of the oceans currents looks promising with a few minuscule islands dotting around the perceivable shoreline. Already their arrival has brooked the curiosity of several local birds which begin to zip through the sails and salt-drenched rigging, their sharp staccato chirps and flashing colors candy for the eyes and a heartening promise that at least the first visitors are not threatening.
Standing on the deck and viewing the waves of smaller tender vessels and row boats making for shore, Captain Ezekiel Pontar consults with a gaggle of fleet officers and Imperial Guard liaisons over the best course of action, even as his eye lingers on the form of Major Eckelton and the Magistrate conversing privately at the far end of the vessel out of earshot from everyone. Before their suspicious activity can be probed, the Major salutes crisply and makes way to board one of the vessels heading to shore even as another echelon of Guardsmen begin embarking. Already the water is thick as flies with ferrying materials and personnel to the main land and Captain Pontar smiles with the knowledge that at least the expediency of the task is far ahead of schedule.
By mid-morning the beating sun has begun its oppressive reign of staggering heat and the air begins to shimmer at any reasonable distance. Bright schools of fish swim lazily in the crystal emerald waters and greater detail can be seen to coral and rock formations within the waters. Already half of the available manpower has been landed onto the shore and pioneer teams have begun clearing more landing zones for the expedition. Rows of tents are slowly being erected and a perimeter watch established. On the IMSEV Lion's Courage, a team of pioneers are busy at work lowering the first of several braced cannons into fortified escort vessels for delivery to shore. Already reports have been slowly relayed to the fleet that the landing zone is infested with potentially dangerous fauna and flora and the first casualties are being ferried back. Grimacing with the potential setback, Captain Pontar gives the order to send in the adventuring parties to begin exploring the fringes and identifying in conjunction with the savants any threats and potential resources from the new base camp.
With her usual efficient and crisp demeanor, First Officer Beck salutes her Captain and gives the order to the signals officer and the order is quickly relayed from vessel to vessel with the expediency of a trained navy. Within minutes, the first waves of civilian and auxiliary forces begin to embark towards the shore...
Making landfall at what appears to be local noon, the first group of adventurers lands on the sandy shores already traumatized by the thousands of bootfalls scarring its surface. Deep crevasses and trenches have already marred the soil of the earth even as work-teams of draft horses pull the first cannons towards hastily dug and reinforced positions. Despite the heavy hand the Imperial Army has on the expedition, one can appreciate the amount of security already being established mere hours into the landing. Already the loose outline of the first perimeter line has been established and hundreds of tents in orderly rows spread out for a sizable distance in all directions. Wide thoroughfares between the blocks of temporary housing are outlined in freshly cut timbers and already the scent of cook fires wafts in from seemingly all directions.
Runners dot to and fro even as sections of Guardsmen jog to duty stations, sweating in their heavy armour and wool tunics. A balding serjaent screams himself over the din of timber saws and grunting labor crews to clear out the immediate area and assigns the south-western edge to the motley collection of adventurers that have been lazily milling around in the confusion.
"Oi! Youz lot! Follow row 17 there to the perimeter edge and meet with duty rotation 34-Echo. From there advance three thousand paces towards the south west and record anything you find. These are for record keeping and must be returned INTACT to your assigned duty officer upon return. NOW MOVE ON YOU TOSSERS!" The serjaent blasts through spittle laced bombardments of hot air towards the adventurers. Easily enough, a strip of parchment wrapped in twine to a fresh cut sprig in the sand marks the passageway as Row 17 and in the distance a "checkpoint" manned by a section of infantry stands on guard near the slowly expanding perimeter of cut timbers. In the distance, the deep shadows and impenetrable depths of the tropical forests awaits beyond the sweltering heat shimmers of pioneer crews and laborers clearing out a wider clearing. To the north, another group of adventurers is being ushered towards a scouting point, quickly followed by three more groups as they land and are likewise hounded by the serjaent to follow the first groups in.
A half elf wearing simple monk vestments turns to the captain and grins at the order. She nods and cracks her knuckles and neck, happy to finally be off that ship. "Ai Captain, will do. Let's just hope we don't meet any trouble along the way." She smiles to herself. She looks to the rest of the group she's with. "Ready to move?"
Azrael found his book interrupted by the call to go and explore, he had signed up for this even if it was ruining his getaway from the problems of the world. He just folded the corner of the page he was on and tucked the book away in the pack near his feet. He picked up the black coat that had been padding his back from the log and rolled it up strapping it to the top of his pack, it was way too hot for him to wear that right now.
He just stood up and dusted the sand off of his pants looking at the man as he picked up his still sheathed sword and positioned it on his belt. Grabbing the pack, he just made his way towards the half elf that seems to have received the same order.
“A little cheery for something that might kill us aren’t we luv.” His voice monotone carrying no inflection of emotion as he just moves placing his six-foot-tall athletic frame that is covered in scale mail next to her. He just looks at her part of his crimson hair sticking to his forehead due to the heat, his silver eyes staring at her. It won’t take long for her to notice the red and gold rings that surround the pupil and what appears to be purple runes embedded into the gold ring. His hand naturally resting on the hilt of his long sword, the sign of a man who knew how to wield the weapon and was always ready should it be needed.
At 7 feet tall and 260 pounds, Reghetyr is larger than your average Dragonborn. With a scar crossing his left eye, and a crooked smile, he sports studded leather and carries a quarterstaff. With some perceptive ability, one can even see the outline of two daggers beneath his belt. He has been rather pleasant with the other travelers and adventurers, listening to what they have to say, and trying to engage in friendly conversation. An out-of-the-ordinary feature that some of you may have noticed is how Reghetyr appears to be talking with someone, usually at night, even though you think he's alone.
Eager to feel land below his feet, Reghetyr jumps from the small boat that ferried him to shore, stretches his neck muscles and says to no one in particular: "Aaagh, land. Letsss see what kind of treasuresss, powerrr and wealth we can find in thisss land."
Stretching his fingers, one by one, then his hands, and finally his arms, he continues talking: "The Magistrate seemsss interesssting. Seems like a good subject for our lord."
He then follows the other adventurers in his group, and after receiving orders from the serjeant, he will reply: "South west it isss my preciousss serjeant", as he comes awkwardly close to the man, with a large grin on his face.
Finally, to the half elf: "We are ready darrrling", with another big grin.
Standing at 5'10", the man known as Vaar seems to be smiling ear to ear the moment they made landfall. With fair chiseled, yet weathered skin, dark brown wavy locks of hair and golden eyes, Vaar definitely seems to radiate a near angelic attractiveness, but at the same time, there's lays a hint of chaos in his eyes. He visibly carries a longsword and round shield, the latter of which was bound to his arm, with a small number of Javelins strapped to the back of his chain mail. A simple, yet well-made horn also hangs at his side, obviously made for alarming others.
Taking a step onto land, Vaar casually throws his arms outstreached and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if savoring the feeling of this new land. When he finishes a moment later, his toothy smile is a tad larger and he laughs, "Haha! Thank the gods! Land!" He quickly turns towards the sea and nods his head at the water, but quickly starts walking forward, not wanting to waste time.
Hearing the serjeant's orders his smile weakens a little, but he laughs it off and (not caring who hears him), bellows out, "Sure, I'm in a good enough mood! besides, could be an adventure!"
He gives a large clap on the back of Azrael, giving Vaar a laugh, "Ah, come now! We're in new lands! Where anything can happen! No need to try to dampen it all when the first day hasn't even finished!" He stands ready and eager to get on with it
A small and lean Warforged moves to join the others as they given their orders. He wears simple clothing that are lined with pockets and belts that carry various things from rolled up parchments to various nuts and bolts. By his side walks a creature made of metal and wood that resembles a large war mastiff. As the Warforged walks be appears to be deep in thought with a smoking pipe carefully placed in his mouth, billowing at various monster shaped puffs.
As he is women to be snaps to attention and takes the pipe out of his mouth, snuffing out the small flame coming from inside of it. "Yes let us do our assigned tasks. I am keenly interested in studying the native inhabitants both plant and animal."
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
"Well, this certainly looks promising." Zephyr stands on the shore, hands on his hips, surveying the activity on the beach. Average in stature and slight of frame, his white hair waves gently, even though there isn't much of a breeze cooling the backs of the laborers setting up camp. With a billowing flourish of his cloak, revealing dark blue pants and a simple tunic open halfway down his blue-tinged chest, Zephyr puts his hand on the hilt of his silvered rapier and strides forward.
A Kenku wearing a leather duster nods, giving the closest to a grin a beaked creature can give. "Ai Captain," he says, in the same voice as the half elf, "will do."
He checks his weapons, making sure they're all in working order, then says, "Ready," again in the half elf's voice.
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Reaching the edge of the temporary encampment, Guardsmen briefly take notice before returning to their paroling gazes. A cry of alarm goes out as a nearby tree is felled and a pioneer is hit. Two Guardsmen hurry off in their direction and within minutes, another casualty is carried back towards the shoreline even as work continues unabated. Nearby a group of pioneers underneath the supervision of a surveyor begin to wheel out twine and stakes to create plots outside heading towards the tree line to pace out the distances until they dissapear from view.
However it becomes quite apparent that while most appears to be a decent founding, the encampment very quickly spills out into what many of the expedition are quickly dubbing "the spoil". Creeping vines and gaseous clouds of debilitating fumes constantly waft into the air the closer one gets to the tree line past the first several meters revealing a bog like swamp. Groups of trees dot out of overgrowths of sandy spurs and waist high reeds swish in the gentle breeze. Salt-laced water pools in several areas and the sand gives way to a fine coarse volcanic dirt and muddy spoils which suck down at anything which enters them. Very quickly the work teams begin to mark out pathways to head in deeper and small groups of patrolling guardsmen are making slow but methodical circuits barely out of view ready to give an early warning should something arrive.
With the last of the group now forming up, an explorator of late age and burdened by satchels of scrolls and surveying equipment walks up. "Ahem. Pardon me sirs and ladies. I am Scribe Talis, assigned to....you all...pardon me but I don't know any of your names..." the scribe wheezes out with phlegm filled lungs as he adjusts his bespectacled face on a crooked bridged nose. Constitution lacking as is assumed of the book studied types, he quickly turns to blow a whistle and almost immediately a small team of small golems appear marching in synchronized step carrying more tools of trade. Talis mops his brow with an already sweat stained handkerchief and turns back towards the group.
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Lord Knight Commander of the Rahlian Iron Guard, Provost Marshal of the 1st Expeditionary Force
"The name is Reghetyrrr, massster Talis. At your service" says the dragonborn and accompanies it with a slight bow. Then, he quickly gets out of the way when the golems appear.
The kenku points to himself, then makes a loud noise like a gunshot. "Weel, I'll jus' call ye Shot," he says in a heavy-accented voice, recognizable as belonging to a dwarf, "See'n as how I cannae make nae fancy noises like that." Shot then points to himself, then to Scribe Talis, to show that 'I' in that sentence means 'you' and vice-versa.
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
"Name's Vaar. Vaar Ulfson. If you don't mind me asking, why did we make landfall, here? Way I see it", he glances at the various hazardous surroundings, "It's not much for a starting grounds." His voice is more curious then judgmental. He genuinely wants to know if they simply landed at the first place they found, or if there's a reason behind being here.
"Oh, I don't know, Vaar - this spot doesn't seem so bad. Lots of opportunity in there, I think." The young man turns, and smiles at Talis. "The name's Zephyr ap Gryfydd, but you can just mark me down as Zephyr, or Z, or whatever ruffles your robes. At your service," he says, with a flourish and a bow.
Arocdoc, a very classic looking dwarf -- long red hair, long red beard, pudgy yet powerful stature -- follows behind the others. "HAHA! Hello all, Arocdoc here, but ye can call me Roc. A master of stones magic!" He pats his belly and you all may notice that his skin looks as if it were made of stone. "Looking forward to working hard, risking my life, and having adventure!"
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Gash- Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Azrael watches as the new members come to join the expedition “Being realistic isn’t dampening – it’s sobering.” He says taking in the features of the man and sighing, he suspected an aasimar and one unlike him.
He just began to look over the rest of the group trying to figure out what everyone’s talents would entail for them in their effort of survival and exploration. As they walked to the location they were to begin their exploration he just took in the beauty of the land they were now on. His distraction only being broke by the man calling himself Talis.
“Azrael Morningstar.” he says turning to look at the man, before asking “Do you require any more information?”
"I have many names given to me but most call me the surname of my creator, Jinhazar. If it is easier for you I am comfortable with the shortening Jin." The Warforged said before he patted the metallic dog next to him. "You can call this one Cog."
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Nodding gently to each person in turn and continuing to furiously mop the sweat from the brow before ultimately giving up at the absurdity of the high heat, he grins at the question asked. "Ahhh, but that is the whole reason why we ARE here. It doesn't matter where we land for the goal is exploration. Being that this was also not the first area to be disturbed..." Scribe Talis points a crooked digit towards a shape in the distance. Barely noticeable above the topiary, but now somehow clearer that it's been pointed out, the top masts of a vessel can be seen in the vague direction of the adventure probes roughly four to five kilometers distant. "If we are all gathered here, I suppose we can begin. You are to escort me as I go about cataloging my findings on this island. Progress permitting, we can potentially reach that wreckage."
Moving forwards without looking to see if anyone is still following them with the small trail of three miniaturized golems obediently matching step, Scribe Talis starts moving forward in the whistling reeds and shadowy, swampy interior of the island proper.
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Lord Knight Commander of the Rahlian Iron Guard, Provost Marshal of the 1st Expeditionary Force
Jin draws his crossbow and loads that before he moves to do the same with his pistol. Once both were loaded he stored them and then drew his rapier and shield as that would be the easiest way to fight in a pinch. Cog stayed next to him, seeming to shadow its creator.
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Zephyr absentmindedly checks his belt and pouches quickly, adjusts his cloak, which billows dramatically, and strides confidently after Jin and Talis. Close examination, however, reveals that Zephyr's eyes start scanning the surroundings closely, and his carefree nature doesn't completely hide the slightly tense way he grips the hilt of his rapier.
A booming serpent slithering through the murky waves of the ocean even as the sun begins its elegant kiss along the emerald expanses, a motley collection of vessels begin to turn towards t he sight of salvation...land. Having weathered the latest trepidation of their journey, the expeditionary fleet of the Kingdom of Malvantia, leader of the Imperial Empire has finally completed its voyage across the uncharted skirts of the vast Taldorian Ocean to far-western lands known only as Rafaria. A lawless territory harboring secrets, riches, and untold horrors...
Captains Log, Voyage Day 87, Solstice Day 153 of Imperial Calendar Year (ICY) 134
I am glad that we have finally made headway in this long and audacious journey...the crews were becoming restless and not even a fortnight ago a mutiny was suppressed amongst one of the civilian tenders. Nerves are at their edges and
Emperor save me if I don't throw that blasted Magistrate into the ocean if he opens his whore son mouth one more timethank the Emperor that land has finally been spotted. So far the topography looks promising to what the diviners have seen and landfall should happen within the hour. I can't help but feel though that our arrival is already known...There is something waiting for us here and I hope its what we really came looking for, if not then Emperor have mercy on our souls.The waves break across the bow of the lead expeditionary vessel, the IMS Savage Waves as it begins to weigh anchor off the coast. Despite dawn having just broken a mere hour beforehand, the air is energized with a fever of excitement. After several months at sea, everyone is thankful to be within the range of land once more and already Guardsmen are marshaling on the decks ready to make for land. The first embarkation wave has already been sent from the shallower vessels, the twin destroyers IMS Rebound and Retort as they sail closer to the shoreline. Ahead the thick canopy of the coastline is broken only by the jagged outcroppings of what appear to be marshland at regular intervals with no change in sight. A small bay sheltered by the worst of the oceans currents looks promising with a few minuscule islands dotting around the perceivable shoreline. Already their arrival has brooked the curiosity of several local birds which begin to zip through the sails and salt-drenched rigging, their sharp staccato chirps and flashing colors candy for the eyes and a heartening promise that at least the first visitors are not threatening.
Standing on the deck and viewing the waves of smaller tender vessels and row boats making for shore, Captain Ezekiel Pontar consults with a gaggle of fleet officers and Imperial Guard liaisons over the best course of action, even as his eye lingers on the form of Major Eckelton and the Magistrate conversing privately at the far end of the vessel out of earshot from everyone. Before their suspicious activity can be probed, the Major salutes crisply and makes way to board one of the vessels heading to shore even as another echelon of Guardsmen begin embarking. Already the water is thick as flies with ferrying materials and personnel to the main land and Captain Pontar smiles with the knowledge that at least the expediency of the task is far ahead of schedule.
By mid-morning the beating sun has begun its oppressive reign of staggering heat and the air begins to shimmer at any reasonable distance. Bright schools of fish swim lazily in the crystal emerald waters and greater detail can be seen to coral and rock formations within the waters. Already half of the available manpower has been landed onto the shore and pioneer teams have begun clearing more landing zones for the expedition. Rows of tents are slowly being erected and a perimeter watch established. On the IMSEV Lion's Courage, a team of pioneers are busy at work lowering the first of several braced cannons into fortified escort vessels for delivery to shore. Already reports have been slowly relayed to the fleet that the landing zone is infested with potentially dangerous fauna and flora and the first casualties are being ferried back. Grimacing with the potential setback, Captain Pontar gives the order to send in the adventuring parties to begin exploring the fringes and identifying in conjunction with the savants any threats and potential resources from the new base camp.
With her usual efficient and crisp demeanor, First Officer Beck salutes her Captain and gives the order to the signals officer and the order is quickly relayed from vessel to vessel with the expediency of a trained navy. Within minutes, the first waves of civilian and auxiliary forces begin to embark towards the shore...
Making landfall at what appears to be local noon, the first group of adventurers lands on the sandy shores already traumatized by the thousands of bootfalls scarring its surface. Deep crevasses and trenches have already marred the soil of the earth even as work-teams of draft horses pull the first cannons towards hastily dug and reinforced positions. Despite the heavy hand the Imperial Army has on the expedition, one can appreciate the amount of security already being established mere hours into the landing. Already the loose outline of the first perimeter line has been established and hundreds of tents in orderly rows spread out for a sizable distance in all directions. Wide thoroughfares between the blocks of temporary housing are outlined in freshly cut timbers and already the scent of cook fires wafts in from seemingly all directions.
Runners dot to and fro even as sections of Guardsmen jog to duty stations, sweating in their heavy armour and wool tunics. A balding serjaent screams himself over the din of timber saws and grunting labor crews to clear out the immediate area and assigns the south-western edge to the motley collection of adventurers that have been lazily milling around in the confusion.
"Oi! Youz lot! Follow row 17 there to the perimeter edge and meet with duty rotation 34-Echo. From there advance three thousand paces towards the south west and record anything you find. These are for record keeping and must be returned INTACT to your assigned duty officer upon return. NOW MOVE ON YOU TOSSERS!" The serjaent blasts through spittle laced bombardments of hot air towards the adventurers. Easily enough, a strip of parchment wrapped in twine to a fresh cut sprig in the sand marks the passageway as Row 17 and in the distance a "checkpoint" manned by a section of infantry stands on guard near the slowly expanding perimeter of cut timbers. In the distance, the deep shadows and impenetrable depths of the tropical forests awaits beyond the sweltering heat shimmers of pioneer crews and laborers clearing out a wider clearing. To the north, another group of adventurers is being ushered towards a scouting point, quickly followed by three more groups as they land and are likewise hounded by the serjaent to follow the first groups in.
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Campaign Log
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Lord Knight Commander of the Rahlian Iron Guard, Provost Marshal of the 1st Expeditionary Force
"THE PLANET BROKE BEFORE THE GUARD DID!"
https://discord.gg/MvqcEN3
A half elf wearing simple monk vestments turns to the captain and grins at the order. She nods and cracks her knuckles and neck, happy to finally be off that ship. "Ai Captain, will do. Let's just hope we don't meet any trouble along the way." She smiles to herself. She looks to the rest of the group she's with. "Ready to move?"
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Azrael found his book interrupted by the call to go and explore, he had signed up for this even if it was ruining his getaway from the problems of the world. He just folded the corner of the page he was on and tucked the book away in the pack near his feet. He picked up the black coat that had been padding his back from the log and rolled it up strapping it to the top of his pack, it was way too hot for him to wear that right now.
He just stood up and dusted the sand off of his pants looking at the man as he picked up his still sheathed sword and positioned it on his belt. Grabbing the pack, he just made his way towards the half elf that seems to have received the same order.
“A little cheery for something that might kill us aren’t we luv.” His voice monotone carrying no inflection of emotion as he just moves placing his six-foot-tall athletic frame that is covered in scale mail next to her. He just looks at her part of his crimson hair sticking to his forehead due to the heat, his silver eyes staring at her. It won’t take long for her to notice the red and gold rings that surround the pupil and what appears to be purple runes embedded into the gold ring. His hand naturally resting on the hilt of his long sword, the sign of a man who knew how to wield the weapon and was always ready should it be needed.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
At 7 feet tall and 260 pounds, Reghetyr is larger than your average Dragonborn. With a scar crossing his left eye, and a crooked smile, he sports studded leather and carries a quarterstaff. With some perceptive ability, one can even see the outline of two daggers beneath his belt. He has been rather pleasant with the other travelers and adventurers, listening to what they have to say, and trying to engage in friendly conversation. An out-of-the-ordinary feature that some of you may have noticed is how Reghetyr appears to be talking with someone, usually at night, even though you think he's alone.
Eager to feel land below his feet, Reghetyr jumps from the small boat that ferried him to shore, stretches his neck muscles and says to no one in particular: "Aaagh, land. Letsss see what kind of treasuresss, powerrr and wealth we can find in thisss land."
Stretching his fingers, one by one, then his hands, and finally his arms, he continues talking: "The Magistrate seemsss interesssting. Seems like a good subject for our lord."
He then follows the other adventurers in his group, and after receiving orders from the serjeant, he will reply: "South west it isss my preciousss serjeant", as he comes awkwardly close to the man, with a large grin on his face.
Finally, to the half elf: "We are ready darrrling", with another big grin.
Standing at 5'10", the man known as Vaar seems to be smiling ear to ear the moment they made landfall. With fair chiseled, yet weathered skin, dark brown wavy locks of hair and golden eyes, Vaar definitely seems to radiate a near angelic attractiveness, but at the same time, there's lays a hint of chaos in his eyes. He visibly carries a longsword and round shield, the latter of which was bound to his arm, with a small number of Javelins strapped to the back of his chain mail. A simple, yet well-made horn also hangs at his side, obviously made for alarming others.
Taking a step onto land, Vaar casually throws his arms outstreached and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if savoring the feeling of this new land. When he finishes a moment later, his toothy smile is a tad larger and he laughs, "Haha! Thank the gods! Land!" He quickly turns towards the sea and nods his head at the water, but quickly starts walking forward, not wanting to waste time.
Hearing the serjeant's orders his smile weakens a little, but he laughs it off and (not caring who hears him), bellows out, "Sure, I'm in a good enough mood! besides, could be an adventure!"
He gives a large clap on the back of Azrael, giving Vaar a laugh, "Ah, come now! We're in new lands! Where anything can happen! No need to try to dampen it all when the first day hasn't even finished!" He stands ready and eager to get on with it
A small and lean Warforged moves to join the others as they given their orders. He wears simple clothing that are lined with pockets and belts that carry various things from rolled up parchments to various nuts and bolts. By his side walks a creature made of metal and wood that resembles a large war mastiff. As the Warforged walks be appears to be deep in thought with a smoking pipe carefully placed in his mouth, billowing at various monster shaped puffs.
As he is women to be snaps to attention and takes the pipe out of his mouth, snuffing out the small flame coming from inside of it. "Yes let us do our assigned tasks. I am keenly interested in studying the native inhabitants both plant and animal."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
"Well, this certainly looks promising." Zephyr stands on the shore, hands on his hips, surveying the activity on the beach. Average in stature and slight of frame, his white hair waves gently, even though there isn't much of a breeze cooling the backs of the laborers setting up camp. With a billowing flourish of his cloak, revealing dark blue pants and a simple tunic open halfway down his blue-tinged chest, Zephyr puts his hand on the hilt of his silvered rapier and strides forward.
A Kenku wearing a leather duster nods, giving the closest to a grin a beaked creature can give. "Ai Captain," he says, in the same voice as the half elf, "will do."
He checks his weapons, making sure they're all in working order, then says, "Ready," again in the half elf's voice.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Reaching the edge of the temporary encampment, Guardsmen briefly take notice before returning to their paroling gazes. A cry of alarm goes out as a nearby tree is felled and a pioneer is hit. Two Guardsmen hurry off in their direction and within minutes, another casualty is carried back towards the shoreline even as work continues unabated. Nearby a group of pioneers underneath the supervision of a surveyor begin to wheel out twine and stakes to create plots outside heading towards the tree line to pace out the distances until they dissapear from view.
However it becomes quite apparent that while most appears to be a decent founding, the encampment very quickly spills out into what many of the expedition are quickly dubbing "the spoil". Creeping vines and gaseous clouds of debilitating fumes constantly waft into the air the closer one gets to the tree line past the first several meters revealing a bog like swamp. Groups of trees dot out of overgrowths of sandy spurs and waist high reeds swish in the gentle breeze. Salt-laced water pools in several areas and the sand gives way to a fine coarse volcanic dirt and muddy spoils which suck down at anything which enters them. Very quickly the work teams begin to mark out pathways to head in deeper and small groups of patrolling guardsmen are making slow but methodical circuits barely out of view ready to give an early warning should something arrive.
With the last of the group now forming up, an explorator of late age and burdened by satchels of scrolls and surveying equipment walks up. "Ahem. Pardon me sirs and ladies. I am Scribe Talis, assigned to....you all...pardon me but I don't know any of your names..." the scribe wheezes out with phlegm filled lungs as he adjusts his bespectacled face on a crooked bridged nose. Constitution lacking as is assumed of the book studied types, he quickly turns to blow a whistle and almost immediately a small team of small golems appear marching in synchronized step carrying more tools of trade. Talis mops his brow with an already sweat stained handkerchief and turns back towards the group.
Lord Knight Commander of the Rahlian Iron Guard, Provost Marshal of the 1st Expeditionary Force
"THE PLANET BROKE BEFORE THE GUARD DID!"
https://discord.gg/MvqcEN3
"The name is Reghetyrrr, massster Talis. At your service" says the dragonborn and accompanies it with a slight bow. Then, he quickly gets out of the way when the golems appear.
The kenku points to himself, then makes a loud noise like a gunshot. "Weel, I'll jus' call ye Shot," he says in a heavy-accented voice, recognizable as belonging to a dwarf, "See'n as how I cannae make nae fancy noises like that." Shot then points to himself, then to Scribe Talis, to show that 'I' in that sentence means 'you' and vice-versa.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
"Name's Vaar. Vaar Ulfson. If you don't mind me asking, why did we make landfall, here? Way I see it", he glances at the various hazardous surroundings, "It's not much for a starting grounds." His voice is more curious then judgmental. He genuinely wants to know if they simply landed at the first place they found, or if there's a reason behind being here.
"Oh, I don't know, Vaar - this spot doesn't seem so bad. Lots of opportunity in there, I think." The young man turns, and smiles at Talis. "The name's Zephyr ap Gryfydd, but you can just mark me down as Zephyr, or Z, or whatever ruffles your robes. At your service," he says, with a flourish and a bow.
Arocdoc, a very classic looking dwarf -- long red hair, long red beard, pudgy yet powerful stature -- follows behind the others. "HAHA! Hello all, Arocdoc here, but ye can call me Roc. A master of stones magic!" He pats his belly and you all may notice that his skin looks as if it were made of stone. "Looking forward to working hard, risking my life, and having adventure!"
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Azrael watches as the new members come to join the expedition “Being realistic isn’t dampening – it’s sobering.” He says taking in the features of the man and sighing, he suspected an aasimar and one unlike him.
He just began to look over the rest of the group trying to figure out what everyone’s talents would entail for them in their effort of survival and exploration. As they walked to the location they were to begin their exploration he just took in the beauty of the land they were now on. His distraction only being broke by the man calling himself Talis.
“Azrael Morningstar.” he says turning to look at the man, before asking “Do you require any more information?”
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
"I have many names given to me but most call me the surname of my creator, Jinhazar. If it is easier for you I am comfortable with the shortening Jin." The Warforged said before he patted the metallic dog next to him. "You can call this one Cog."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Nodding gently to each person in turn and continuing to furiously mop the sweat from the brow before ultimately giving up at the absurdity of the high heat, he grins at the question asked. "Ahhh, but that is the whole reason why we ARE here. It doesn't matter where we land for the goal is exploration. Being that this was also not the first area to be disturbed..." Scribe Talis points a crooked digit towards a shape in the distance. Barely noticeable above the topiary, but now somehow clearer that it's been pointed out, the top masts of a vessel can be seen in the vague direction of the adventure probes roughly four to five kilometers distant. "If we are all gathered here, I suppose we can begin. You are to escort me as I go about cataloging my findings on this island. Progress permitting, we can potentially reach that wreckage."
Moving forwards without looking to see if anyone is still following them with the small trail of three miniaturized golems obediently matching step, Scribe Talis starts moving forward in the whistling reeds and shadowy, swampy interior of the island proper.
Lord Knight Commander of the Rahlian Iron Guard, Provost Marshal of the 1st Expeditionary Force
"THE PLANET BROKE BEFORE THE GUARD DID!"
https://discord.gg/MvqcEN3
Jin draws his crossbow and loads that before he moves to do the same with his pistol. Once both were loaded he stored them and then drew his rapier and shield as that would be the easiest way to fight in a pinch. Cog stayed next to him, seeming to shadow its creator.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Zephyr absentmindedly checks his belt and pouches quickly, adjusts his cloak, which billows dramatically, and strides confidently after Jin and Talis. Close examination, however, reveals that Zephyr's eyes start scanning the surroundings closely, and his carefree nature doesn't completely hide the slightly tense way he grips the hilt of his rapier.
"Good one, Pip. Lets do thisss then" says the dragonborn, part hissing, part laughing as he follows suit.