OOC: If you have any questions about the mythology or anything, just ask.
Narration: Last winter was unusually long and brutal. Most days, the snow was piled up high enough to block the doors of your homes, forcing you to spend most of your days indoors. There was barely enough food to go around. When the first flowers of spring started to bud, the people rejoiced. The village elder and druid called for a celebration to be held on the night of the first full moon of spring.
When the night arrived, a feast was set up in the center of the village, with enough food to feed everyone, unlike the winter that had just passed. Musicians took up their instruments, and the people danced wherever there was room.
DM: Give a brief description of your characters, and answer these questions. How did you guys survive the winter, and what are you doing during the celebration? If you are not originally from this town, why are you here?
Eidren Moon Shadow, a frail man, pale with dark hair, sits quietly partaking in food and drink of the spring thaw celebration. He politely converses with those he’s gotten to know over the past few months, but keeps to himself mostly.
A traveler from a distant land, Eidren arrived in the village just before the first snow of winter. He decided to stay until spring as further travel would be too dangerous. He’s made himself useful as well as he can in exchange for whatever food and lodging could be afforded him.
Asgrim One-Eye, a tall, broad-shouldered figure with long black hair tied in a bun and a close beard around his face, and a distinct eye-patch over the left eye. Winter was harsh for Asgrim considering he didn't have much to his name save his armour and what gold he made from a life of raiding and warfare, the gold which he used to find a place to stay at the local inn, his days mostly consisting of sitting next to the hearth and drinking copious amounts of fire wine. What little work he could do in terms of chopping wood he did, going out into the frigid air and hacking away at logs, but for a free night's drink and half pay for his room, it was well worth it for him.
At the end of winter, there was palpable relief about him; he never really liked the cold, he always enjoyed the rays of the summer sun on his skin preferably on the field of battle, alas that was a chapter in his life that was over with. For now at least. He currently sat on a stool, grinning as he watched the revelry, joining in a few times for a dance here or there, laughing with some of the locals he had come to befriend, but mostly sharing war stories, drawing in a small crowd as he told the tale of how his jarl's genius and the fierce commanders led them to defeat two armies, each of them outnumbering their measly numbers two-to-one. And all the while, as much as he grew to admire this settlement during his stay in the winter, he knew he had to eventually leave.
Only a pit stop it was to greater goal, and because winter had come so suddenly and fiercely, he found himself stuck in the village. And yet there was nothing to regret about that, except perhaps leaving them, unless he were to return with more tales.
Gotazar is a hulking man, pale skinned and hairless, he is almost always found in his fur pants and vest with leather boots but when combat is a possibility he adds his chainmail armor, shield and mace. During the festival he can be found serving fresh venison, drinking heavily and carrying on loud conversations with anyone at hand.
(Deep voice with Russian-ish accent) "I arrived just before that first storm! Honestly, I think the Yorcliff family just let me in because they were scared of me. HAH! Let's just say they were more receptive and welcoming when I came back with the first buck. I'm not about to let some winter flurry stop me from hunting!! I will admit that is was a fortnight before I figured out where the village proper was it was so buried. Why was I in town in the first place? I'm just passing through, I'm looking for some folks. They operate under a black eagle banner, you haven't seen them around have you?"
Leif was no stranger of the sea as he grew up most of his life on it. After leaving his home, he settled on an underwater cave near the village to pass the winter season. Temperatures deep beneath the ocean doesn't change as much unlike the surface which ice usually forms.
Wearing his clothes made of underwater plants below his leather armor helped him stay warm during the day. When the long nights came, Leif sleeps with a thick, quilted blanket made for the cold weather. As for food, fishes were mostly inactive during winter and stays at the bottom of the sea which helped him stay fed. Leif spends his time practicing his horn which somewhat attracts passing whales.
As spring came, so did his enthusiasm to join the festivities at the village peaked. Eyes cannot help but look at him as he emerge from the waters. His hair as green as kelp, eyes and skin as blue as the deep sea, and his weird webbed fins.
After practicing his instrument for a long time, Leif decided to join a band of local musicians to celebrate the start of this wonderful season of spring with merrymaking and good music.
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Believer of the almighty one, the Alpha and the Omega, whose love encompasses all of his creations, RNGesus.
Started as a player at time of registration. Started to DM a month later. Hoping to get better as time progresses.
After a couple of ours of festivities, the village elder and druid, Orm Mudlake, approaches the center of the celebration, and calls in his old, withering voice.
Orm: "Hello everybody! Words do not express how delighted I was when first spied the signs of spring, chirping birds, sprouting plants, even the sun itself. But I must confess, as I was sitting in my cottage I feared it was upon us."
The crowd mumbles with each other in confusion, not sure what the old man was trying to say. To break the half silence, he yells.
Orm: Fimblewinter! The first sign of Ragnarök! Three years of nothing but winter. Luckily, the spring did come, but I still fear it is close. I believe the gods are trying to tell us so. During the winter, they even spoke to me. They told me four wanderers would stop here. One from the sea, one missing an eye, one with mixed blood, and one pale as stone. I believe they are among us. If you are here, please step forward!"
As he finishes his speech, the people start to look around, searching for whoever Orm could be talking about.
DM: Do you approach, or try to hide among the townsfolk?
Eidren was never one to have attention called to himself, especially when he’s on a job. It would be much more difficult to slip away unnoticed after steeling the Elder’s artifact. His employer definitely required discression. So much time wasted this winter if he was made now.
Eidren does his best to continue blending in with the crowd. He makes sure his ears and elf-like features are hidden under his hood.
At the mention of one missing an eye, Asgrim perked up, a grin forming around his face. He stood and walked up to the elder, the honour in having been called out welling up within him, his grin broadening. He looked over at the crowd, and although he presented before them a face full of mirth, his stomach churned. What was this that the elder spoke of? Ragnarok, it could not be, not now. He had too much left undone, too many things he needed to do, an honour he was yet to reclaim.
Gotazar certainly isn't in any position to hide standing more than a full head taller than the tallest townsfolk but while located towards the front of the crowd he makes no move to acknowledge his relation to the prophecy, simply watching Orm from where he stands .
As Asgrim and Leif approach the elder Gotazar makes his way the short distance to the front of the crowd, not yet joining the other two close enough to address Orm directly:
"and what is it these wanderers are meant to be doing?"
As Eidren stands in the crowd, a woman asks him, "Could that be you?" A man next to her speaks up, "No, it can't be. I've met his parents, full blooded human if I've ever seen it." The man has obviously mistaken you for someone else, but seeing how it settled the woman's suspicion, you let the statement be.
Asgrim looks to Orm, "Leave this mix-blood, elder. His refusal to appear dishonors you and only shows his cowardice," he spits on the ground, "all that you've called are warriors of some skill, by that logic I assume we're to be doing something rather dangerous. Leave him, experience in war and raids have shown his kind will die screaming for mercy like babes. Let him rest here with the wives where he belongs."
To Asgrim "peace my small friend" Gotazar finally breaks from the crowd to join the two, "I make it a habit to never volunteer for a job without knowing the full story first. I find it difficult to hold others to a different standard" Turning to Orm "I ask again honored elder, what is it the gods are asking of us wanderers?"
Orm: "This I am not sure of. All I know is that you are to retrieve the two haves of the Elven Tear. The gods say the are located in the Maw of Njörðr, a cave outside of the village, and Freya's Palm, a massive tree in the forest."
Eidren takes note of this. This Elven Tear is the target for his job.
OOC: If you have any questions about the mythology or anything, just ask.
Narration: Last winter was unusually long and brutal. Most days, the snow was piled up high enough to block the doors of your homes, forcing you to spend most of your days indoors. There was barely enough food to go around. When the first flowers of spring started to bud, the people rejoiced. The village elder and druid called for a celebration to be held on the night of the first full moon of spring.
When the night arrived, a feast was set up in the center of the village, with enough food to feed everyone, unlike the winter that had just passed. Musicians took up their instruments, and the people danced wherever there was room.
DM: Give a brief description of your characters, and answer these questions. How did you guys survive the winter, and what are you doing during the celebration? If you are not originally from this town, why are you here?
Eidren Moon Shadow, a frail man, pale with dark hair, sits quietly partaking in food and drink of the spring thaw celebration. He politely converses with those he’s gotten to know over the past few months, but keeps to himself mostly.
A traveler from a distant land, Eidren arrived in the village just before the first snow of winter. He decided to stay until spring as further travel would be too dangerous. He’s made himself useful as well as he can in exchange for whatever food and lodging could be afforded him.
Asgrim One-Eye, a tall, broad-shouldered figure with long black hair tied in a bun and a close beard around his face, and a distinct eye-patch over the left eye. Winter was harsh for Asgrim considering he didn't have much to his name save his armour and what gold he made from a life of raiding and warfare, the gold which he used to find a place to stay at the local inn, his days mostly consisting of sitting next to the hearth and drinking copious amounts of fire wine. What little work he could do in terms of chopping wood he did, going out into the frigid air and hacking away at logs, but for a free night's drink and half pay for his room, it was well worth it for him.
At the end of winter, there was palpable relief about him; he never really liked the cold, he always enjoyed the rays of the summer sun on his skin preferably on the field of battle, alas that was a chapter in his life that was over with. For now at least. He currently sat on a stool, grinning as he watched the revelry, joining in a few times for a dance here or there, laughing with some of the locals he had come to befriend, but mostly sharing war stories, drawing in a small crowd as he told the tale of how his jarl's genius and the fierce commanders led them to defeat two armies, each of them outnumbering their measly numbers two-to-one. And all the while, as much as he grew to admire this settlement during his stay in the winter, he knew he had to eventually leave.
Only a pit stop it was to greater goal, and because winter had come so suddenly and fiercely, he found himself stuck in the village. And yet there was nothing to regret about that, except perhaps leaving them, unless he were to return with more tales.
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
Gotazar is a hulking man, pale skinned and hairless, he is almost always found in his fur pants and vest with leather boots but when combat is a possibility he adds his chainmail armor, shield and mace. During the festival he can be found serving fresh venison, drinking heavily and carrying on loud conversations with anyone at hand.
(Deep voice with Russian-ish accent) "I arrived just before that first storm! Honestly, I think the Yorcliff family just let me in because they were scared of me. HAH! Let's just say they were more receptive and welcoming when I came back with the first buck. I'm not about to let some winter flurry stop me from hunting!! I will admit that is was a fortnight before I figured out where the village proper was it was so buried. Why was I in town in the first place? I'm just passing through, I'm looking for some folks. They operate under a black eagle banner, you haven't seen them around have you?"
Leif was no stranger of the sea as he grew up most of his life on it. After leaving his home, he settled on an underwater cave near the village to pass the winter season. Temperatures deep beneath the ocean doesn't change as much unlike the surface which ice usually forms.
Wearing his clothes made of underwater plants below his leather armor helped him stay warm during the day. When the long nights came, Leif sleeps with a thick, quilted blanket made for the cold weather. As for food, fishes were mostly inactive during winter and stays at the bottom of the sea which helped him stay fed. Leif spends his time practicing his horn which somewhat attracts passing whales.
As spring came, so did his enthusiasm to join the festivities at the village peaked. Eyes cannot help but look at him as he emerge from the waters. His hair as green as kelp, eyes and skin as blue as the deep sea, and his weird webbed fins.
After practicing his instrument for a long time, Leif decided to join a band of local musicians to celebrate the start of this wonderful season of spring with merrymaking and good music.
After a couple of ours of festivities, the village elder and druid, Orm Mudlake, approaches the center of the celebration, and calls in his old, withering voice.
Orm: "Hello everybody! Words do not express how delighted I was when first spied the signs of spring, chirping birds, sprouting plants, even the sun itself. But I must confess, as I was sitting in my cottage I feared it was upon us."
The crowd mumbles with each other in confusion, not sure what the old man was trying to say. To break the half silence, he yells.
Orm: Fimblewinter! The first sign of Ragnarök! Three years of nothing but winter. Luckily, the spring did come, but I still fear it is close. I believe the gods are trying to tell us so. During the winter, they even spoke to me. They told me four wanderers would stop here. One from the sea, one missing an eye, one with mixed blood, and one pale as stone. I believe they are among us. If you are here, please step forward!"
As he finishes his speech, the people start to look around, searching for whoever Orm could be talking about.
DM: Do you approach, or try to hide among the townsfolk?
Eidren was never one to have attention called to himself, especially when he’s on a job. It would be much more difficult to slip away unnoticed after steeling the Elder’s artifact. His employer definitely required discression. So much time wasted this winter if he was made now.
Eidren does his best to continue blending in with the crowd. He makes sure his ears and elf-like features are hidden under his hood.
At the mention of one missing an eye, Asgrim perked up, a grin forming around his face. He stood and walked up to the elder, the honour in having been called out welling up within him, his grin broadening. He looked over at the crowd, and although he presented before them a face full of mirth, his stomach churned. What was this that the elder spoke of? Ragnarok, it could not be, not now. He had too much left undone, too many things he needed to do, an honour he was yet to reclaim.
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
Gotazar certainly isn't in any position to hide standing more than a full head taller than the tallest townsfolk but while located towards the front of the crowd he makes no move to acknowledge his relation to the prophecy, simply watching Orm from where he stands .
Leif stops chattering with the local musicians after he was obviously called out by the elder as he literally emerged from the sea a few hours ago.
He's sure he hasn't seen any boats that came near the village's shore so he walked next to the one-eyed fellow and whispers to him.
"Fellow wanderer, it seems we were apparently foretold by the gods. Do you think he's going to harm us?"
As Asgrim and Leif approach the elder Gotazar makes his way the short distance to the front of the crowd, not yet joining the other two close enough to address Orm directly:
"and what is it these wanderers are meant to be doing?"
Eidren is listening, but doesn’t reveal himself. He’s never been one to buy into the prophesies of ragnarok anyway.
As Leif and Asgrim step forward, Orm says
Orm: "Ah. Here are two of them."
He pats you on the back.
Orm: And I see one in the back, skin really is pale as stone. Wait, I think we're missing one. The mix blood."
Eidren tries to keep his composure. He doesn't look any different than the villagers, so he should be able to hide.
Deception 18
As Eidren stands in the crowd, a woman asks him, "Could that be you?" A man next to her speaks up, "No, it can't be. I've met his parents, full blooded human if I've ever seen it." The man has obviously mistaken you for someone else, but seeing how it settled the woman's suspicion, you let the statement be.
EIdren nods to the man. He looks at the woman, presses his index finger to his lips, and motions to the elder indicating he’d like to listen.
Asgrim looks to Orm, "Leave this mix-blood, elder. His refusal to appear dishonors you and only shows his cowardice," he spits on the ground, "all that you've called are warriors of some skill, by that logic I assume we're to be doing something rather dangerous. Leave him, experience in war and raids have shown his kind will die screaming for mercy like babes. Let him rest here with the wives where he belongs."
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
To Asgrim "peace my small friend" Gotazar finally breaks from the crowd to join the two, "I make it a habit to never volunteer for a job without knowing the full story first. I find it difficult to hold others to a different standard" Turning to Orm "I ask again honored elder, what is it the gods are asking of us wanderers?"
Eidren pays no mind to the one eyed warriors taunts. He’s been called much worse before and will be again.
Orm: "This I am not sure of. All I know is that you are to retrieve the two haves of the Elven Tear. The gods say the are located in the Maw of Njörðr, a cave outside of the village, and Freya's Palm, a massive tree in the forest."
Eidren takes note of this. This Elven Tear is the target for his job.
Do I know anything about the Elven tear?