Hello! This will be a DoIP campaign, and it will start in a city called Clifftop. If you would like to join, send me a PM. I will tell you if you are accepted into this PbP group. The campaign will start at first level.
With the impatience of youth, the young girl tosses her bundle next to a crate outside of the tavern and hops up to sit atop the crate cross-legged. The fringes of dark red hair escaping the hood of her cloak, she adjusts it for comfort, then mumbles a short phrase as three small balls of flame appear in her hands and she begins juggling them like it was an every day occurrence, all-the-while her bright orange eyes watching the passersby as if she is expecting someone.
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Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today? Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
A birdlike creature (see spoiler for description) swoops down from the sky landing on the ground and ruffling his feathers before noticing the girl outside the tavern. "Quite a talent you've got there," he whispers lightly touching the purple crystal dangling from a thread on his throat and the girl hears the message in her head. He moves closer to the girl and bows slightly before her as he introduces himself, "The name is Creed. I don't suppose you have a moment to assist me; after all, I am new to this area." He straightens up as he continues, "I am looking for a library or other research facility."
A relatively short bird-person, standing only at 5'. Creed exudes confidence and although his bones are hollow, there is a sturdiness to him that appears to come with a weariness. He is wearing a long yellow robe and there is a light purple crystal hanging from a leather cord around his neck. His talons appear to be sharp although not very groomed. His dark brown feathers, however, are very nicely pressed down and the crow of light-colored feathers on his head also appears to be well taken care of and they bring out the piercing darkness of his brown eyes.
You hear yelling from inside the tavern. A gruff voice with a heavy accent booms out "What is this! I ordered a wolf steak! Did you mix up a wolf with a rabbit?"
Another voice answers "Sir. This is a wolf steak."
"Then where's the rest of the wolf! I thought I wasn't going too have a good hearty meal and I get this? A miniscule bit of meat?"
You hear stomping sounds and an elder goliath storms out muttering. "Waste of gold."
He then sees the flame, and mutters "Well done, now if only the server could do that too..."
Her eyes go wide for a moment at the voice in her head, then she cocks her head at him with a wink and a giggle as the balls erupt into a shower of colorful sparks. "Call me Wyldfyre," she says, dropping the hood of her cloak. Her voice belies her youth, but carries an undertone reminiscent of a forge bellows. Her dark auburn hair is as unruly as her name, and her clothing drab in color and more than a little worn, further accentuating the brightness of her eyes. The odd dirt smudge on her face says that she likely doesn't have a home, or 2 coins to rub together. "I'm rather new to town as well, but let's see what we can find." She leans over and grabs up what seemed to be a bundle of rags beside her, as well as the silver in front with a nod to her benefactor, but you see it is in fact a rather well camouflaged pack complete with crossbow. As she stands, her height becomes easily evident standing almost 6' high. "Where shall we look first?"
But if anyone would take the time to look closer, they will notice that the dirt smudges are just a little too precise, the tatters of her clothes more orchestrated than random and that it is all just a ruse designed to make people underestimate her and therefore give her an advantage.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Hmm..." Creed muses, "I bet the bartender will know of the good places around town." At this, the goliath comes storming out and Creed jumps back in a bit of surprise. "Although I'm not sure anyone will be in a helping mood after that display," he says gesturing to the goliath. Now noticing the feral human with a hand on his weapon, Creed touches his purple crystal as he whispers again, "No need for violence my friend." This time it is the human that receives the message. "I don't suppose either of you is locals then?" Creed inquires at the furious goliath and the feral human.
(Investigation to Notice Wyldfyre's clothing: 9)
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“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Glancing at the bird-man, Wyldfyre offers, "Once things calm down in there I can ask...few can resist a homeless waif," she concludes her statement with an easy laugh.
With the drop in volume inside, she walks in the front door looking around. Given the wide berth most are giving the goliath, she assumes he was part of the ruckus. "I believe I heard you say your name is Fragum. Call me Wyldfyre," as she extends a hand in greeting. "Sorry to disturb your dinner, but prefer to know friends from foes when I enter a new place."
Creed stays outside the tavern and tries to strike up a conversation with Fragum and the human while Wyldfyre is inside gathering information. "That's interesting," he remarks to the goliath, "and what is it that you do for a living? Also, my name is Creed in case you hadn't caught it earlier."
(OOC: A little light RP never hurt anyone and if the DM needs us to do something then we can always change tracks...)
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“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Fragum, calms himself "Hello, Creed. Sorry for my... temper. I was the strongest in my clan, I would wrestle with bears and take on tigers, unfortunately I am now an old man. My strength is not what it used to be. I am now trying to regain my power." Fragum pauses for a moment "Or die trying."
"What do you do, Creed?"
(OOC: Should I be coloring my text? I'm fairly new to PbP's.)
In the tavern, sitting alone at a small table, is a shimmering dragonborn. Light from the windows is reflecting from both his chain mail armor and his blue-ish silver scales. The aura is almost magical, but is obviously the natural reflection of the sun.
He carefully, grasps what appears to be a tiny spoon in his gigantic hand and brings his broth to his lips time and time again. White vestments with silver and blue embroidered designs cover his chest - the symbol of a gauntlet as the focal point of the design. An amulet sways back and forth with each sip.
Attached to his belt is a simple mace, and at his feet is a pack with a shield and crossbow carefully attached with leather straps.
After he finishes his meal, he lifts his head, and closes his eyes - seeming to soak in the rays of the sun through the grimy window.
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Hello! This will be a DoIP campaign, and it will start in a city called Clifftop. If you would like to join, send me a PM. I will tell you if you are accepted into this PbP group. The campaign will start at first level.
DM: Dragon of Icespire Peak PbP
2 more people that can join this campaign!
DM: Dragon of Icespire Peak PbP
can I join. I like to play any classs that is a magic caster. preferably a warlock or mage
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to
It is now closed.
DM: Dragon of Icespire Peak PbP
Don't forget to edit the recruitment thing to closed and Private 😉
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Reminder for myself. Work together or fail apart. Talk with each other when necessary. Describe how, where, if, your character moved.
The sign on the trail ahead reads "DONT FEED THE DRAGON!" "Working Together" Follow this link please
Can @Storm_Sorcerer make an OOC PM group so that when we talk out of character it doesn't clutter this thread?
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Looks like a well balanced group. Looking forward to it.
With the impatience of youth, the young girl tosses her bundle next to a crate outside of the tavern and hops up to sit atop the crate cross-legged. The fringes of dark red hair escaping the hood of her cloak, she adjusts it for comfort, then mumbles a short phrase as three small balls of flame appear in her hands and she begins juggling them like it was an every day occurrence, all-the-while her bright orange eyes watching the passersby as if she is expecting someone.
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
Yeah, that would be nice.
When players get creative.
A birdlike creature (see spoiler for description) swoops down from the sky landing on the ground and ruffling his feathers before noticing the girl outside the tavern. "Quite a talent you've got there," he whispers lightly touching the purple crystal dangling from a thread on his throat and the girl hears the message in her head. He moves closer to the girl and bows slightly before her as he introduces himself, "The name is Creed. I don't suppose you have a moment to assist me; after all, I am new to this area." He straightens up as he continues, "I am looking for a library or other research facility."
A relatively short bird-person, standing only at 5'. Creed exudes confidence and although his bones are hollow, there is a sturdiness to him that appears to come with a weariness. He is wearing a long yellow robe and there is a light purple crystal hanging from a leather cord around his neck. His talons appear to be sharp although not very groomed. His dark brown feathers, however, are very nicely pressed down and the crow of light-colored feathers on his head also appears to be well taken care of and they bring out the piercing darkness of his brown eyes.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Rhavien a feral looking human male was walking by stops and watches drops a silver in front of her
"Nice trick, good entertainment. But you need a hat to receive coin"
He says with a smile as he watches in appreciation. His hand rests on the hilt of his rapier when the bird man appears
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Reminder for myself. Work together or fail apart. Talk with each other when necessary. Describe how, where, if, your character moved.
The sign on the trail ahead reads "DONT FEED THE DRAGON!" "Working Together" Follow this link please
You hear yelling from inside the tavern. A gruff voice with a heavy accent booms out "What is this! I ordered a wolf steak! Did you mix up a wolf with a rabbit?"
Another voice answers "Sir. This is a wolf steak."
"Then where's the rest of the wolf! I thought I wasn't going too have a good hearty meal and I get this? A miniscule bit of meat?"
You hear stomping sounds and an elder goliath storms out muttering. "Waste of gold."
He then sees the flame, and mutters "Well done, now if only the server could do that too..."
When players get creative.
Her eyes go wide for a moment at the voice in her head, then she cocks her head at him with a wink and a giggle as the balls erupt into a shower of colorful sparks. "Call me Wyldfyre," she says, dropping the hood of her cloak. Her voice belies her youth, but carries an undertone reminiscent of a forge bellows. Her dark auburn hair is as unruly as her name, and her clothing drab in color and more than a little worn, further accentuating the brightness of her eyes. The odd dirt smudge on her face says that she likely doesn't have a home, or 2 coins to rub together. "I'm rather new to town as well, but let's see what we can find." She leans over and grabs up what seemed to be a bundle of rags beside her, as well as the silver in front with a nod to her benefactor, but you see it is in fact a rather well camouflaged pack complete with crossbow. As she stands, her height becomes easily evident standing almost 6' high. "Where shall we look first?"
But if anyone would take the time to look closer, they will notice that the dirt smudges are just a little too precise, the tatters of her clothes more orchestrated than random and that it is all just a ruse designed to make people underestimate her and therefore give her an advantage.
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
"Hmm..." Creed muses, "I bet the bartender will know of the good places around town." At this, the goliath comes storming out and Creed jumps back in a bit of surprise. "Although I'm not sure anyone will be in a helping mood after that display," he says gesturing to the goliath. Now noticing the feral human with a hand on his weapon, Creed touches his purple crystal as he whispers again, "No need for violence my friend." This time it is the human that receives the message. "I don't suppose either of you is locals then?" Creed inquires at the furious goliath and the feral human.
(Investigation to Notice Wyldfyre's clothing: 9)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
"No, I'm from out of town." Then the goliath introduces himself "I'm Fragum, Fragum Arbutem of clan Lactucis."
When players get creative.
Glancing at the bird-man, Wyldfyre offers, "Once things calm down in there I can ask...few can resist a homeless waif," she concludes her statement with an easy laugh.
With the drop in volume inside, she walks in the front door looking around. Given the wide berth most are giving the goliath, she assumes he was part of the ruckus. "I believe I heard you say your name is Fragum. Call me Wyldfyre," as she extends a hand in greeting. "Sorry to disturb your dinner, but prefer to know friends from foes when I enter a new place."
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
ooc: I'm not sure if we are even at a tavern its up to the dm
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Reminder for myself. Work together or fail apart. Talk with each other when necessary. Describe how, where, if, your character moved.
The sign on the trail ahead reads "DONT FEED THE DRAGON!" "Working Together" Follow this link please
Creed stays outside the tavern and tries to strike up a conversation with Fragum and the human while Wyldfyre is inside gathering information. "That's interesting," he remarks to the goliath, "and what is it that you do for a living? Also, my name is Creed in case you hadn't caught it earlier."
(OOC: A little light RP never hurt anyone and if the DM needs us to do something then we can always change tracks...)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Fragum, calms himself "Hello, Creed. Sorry for my... temper. I was the strongest in my clan, I would wrestle with bears and take on tigers, unfortunately I am now an old man. My strength is not what it used to be. I am now trying to regain my power." Fragum pauses for a moment "Or die trying."
"What do you do, Creed?"
(OOC: Should I be coloring my text? I'm fairly new to PbP's.)
When players get creative.
In the tavern, sitting alone at a small table, is a shimmering dragonborn. Light from the windows is reflecting from both his chain mail armor and his blue-ish silver scales. The aura is almost magical, but is obviously the natural reflection of the sun.
He carefully, grasps what appears to be a tiny spoon in his gigantic hand and brings his broth to his lips time and time again. White vestments with silver and blue embroidered designs cover his chest - the symbol of a gauntlet as the focal point of the design. An amulet sways back and forth with each sip.
Attached to his belt is a simple mace, and at his feet is a pack with a shield and crossbow carefully attached with leather straps.
After he finishes his meal, he lifts his head, and closes his eyes - seeming to soak in the rays of the sun through the grimy window.