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 Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 11:18 pm
I'd like to make a simple, casual generic fantasy game that doesn't take itself too seriously for people to jump into. The easiest way to make it casual in my mind is first, a pre-set world. The map you see above is Greyhawk. Yeah, it's from Dungeons & Dragons. The story will begin in an average castle town with the bare necessities. Another roadblock I saw in kickstarting a roleplay was exposition, and how the characters will meet. While your character is of course purely your creation, I'll ask for one concession- that they casually agreed to go on an adventure with a bunch of strangers. It was going to happen anyway, right? The reason and motivation is yours to decide. There are halls in many towns throughout the country that will take in jobless adventurers, and put them together in traveling bands- giving them missions and a decent stipend. The group has orders to meet- where else? But the local tavern. Your first post can give us the finer details and any backstory you'd like to reveal about your character en route or inside the tavern and once everyone available has joined they'll set out for adventure! Character outline -------------------------- Name: Gender: Age: Race: Appearance: Weapons: Abilities/Training: History: Misc.:
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 4:24 am
Name: Ichabod "crybaby" Kaiser
Gender: male
Age: 24
Race: Half-elf
Appearance: Long, messy black hair frames a long, angular face with sharp green eyes. His ears are cut where the elven points would naturally form- though this detail is usually obscured by his hair. A tall, thin man with compact muscles and long legs. He wears long steel-toed boots and banded-leather armor, his back is adorned with many patches of symbols stitched in, a black hood hanging off his shoulders covers half of them.
Weapons: balisong tucked into his right sleeve, quarterstaff on his back, a long blade attached to a brace on his left arm (snaps out arm to unsheathe it), and a few other daggers hidden on his person.
Abilities/Training: Adept at sneaking, concealment, pick locking, you name it. A no bells and whistles rogue- an apprentice to the streets.
History: His father was a diplomat who had an affair with an elven priestess, he was assassinated six months before Ichabod's birth. His mother was told to give him away on his first birthday by the head priest. "The half-human child cries too much and matures too slowly," so he was given to his uncle who ran a gambling den. Ichabod grew up doing odd jobs and playing games when a table needed an extra player. When he was ten he started to gain the sleight of hand needed to cheat effectively, but was caught not a year later. His hand was pinned to the table by a dagger, and though his uncle kept it a secret he was half-elf it was discovered in the ensuing shuffle. His pointed ears were cut and he was told to "behave like a human being. Only an elf plays so dirty." On his sixteenth birthday he used every gold piece he had to bet on a game against the man who cut his ears, Abram. Ichabod won a crushing victory solely on luck, but his uncle tried to take the money from Ichabod afterwards. Knowing that his uncle was in debt to Abram he refused, and during a fight his uncle tripped down a flight of stairs from Ichabod's room and his neck snapped on impact. By the time he had disposed of the corpse and unlocked his uncle's safe the next day Abram and his thugs came to collect his uncle's debt. Ichabod took what money he could and ran. To this day he'll take to looking over his shoulder, expecting Abram or a bounty hunter.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 4:47 pm
Name: Borgeroth "Hellraiser" Cinderbeard
Sex: Male
Age: 57
Race: Dwarf
Description: A strong, broad, stout hulking mass of dwarven muscle, weaponry and beard. His hair and skin has the faint tint of Goblin blood and a smell of strong ale.
Weapons: Many. If it is possible to a-fix a blade or a spike to his person, Borgeroth does so. There is always a knife in his boot, axes of varying sizes hanging from his belt, swords by his sides. He carries a crossbow as wide as he is over his dwarven scalemale and sturdy iron shield.
Notably, he uses an urgosh or a long spear as a walking stick.
Abilities/Training: If there is a blade, he can cut with it. If there is a stick, he can smash with it. If for some reason he is without a weapon or an object to bash with, he can simply smash with his own body.
When a blow is directed at him, he can take it, and will. Because he can.
More impressive than his physical capability and shear tenacity in combat is his ability to drink his weight in dragonfire and other potent spirits with remarkably little adverse affect. He has even been known to raise stakes at drinking games by voluntarily consuming poison.
History: Borgeroth's father was a guardsman. HIs father was a guardsman, who's father was also a guardsman, as was his father. Borgeroth was raised, trained and acted (briefly) as a guardsman.
Then his mine was overrun by Goblins.
Borgeroth stood his ground and fought, like a good guardsman, and held his tunnel against an endless swarm of the filthy pests. Only when the cave floor was slick with gore and choked with bodies did the horde stop flinging themselves onto his blades.
But this did not stop Borgeroth.
He chased the fleeing raiding party deep into the unmapped parts of the cave system, butchering countless more and claiming the heads of the war band's leader.
Singing songs of his own praise, he returned to the great hall ready for a celebration in his honor. Instead, he found every man, woman and child strung about the walls by their innards.
Borgeroth's father, the captain of the guard, was one of the hardy dwarves that didn't succumb to the tortures quite as soon as the others. He was shocked to see his son still alive. It was Borgeroth's tunnel that had fallen and let the raiders into the hold.
Without admitting to his impassioned desertion, Borgeroth vowed to avenge his people's deaths and relieved his father of his mortal wounds.
He left the ruins of his hold belching out smoke and ringing with the wails of dying goblins.
Since then, he has put his ability as a sword for hire long enough to drown in another keg of ale, or to find another band of goblins to massacre.
Str 18 +4, Dex 10 +0, Con 21 +5, Int 14 +2, Wis 12 +1, Cha 6 -2
Gather Information +0, Knowledge (dungeoning) +4, Sense Motive +5, Listen +5
Diplomacy +3, Tumble +5, Intimidate +6, Craft +6, Climb +8
Fort +9, Ref +3, Will +4
Improved Unarmed Strike, Improved Grapple, Evasion
Power Attack, Cleave, Great Cleave, Combat Expertise, Improved Shield Bash
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 8:43 am
Name: Caelek "Lizard" Draevus
Gender: Male
Age: 41
Race: Dragon
Appearance: Caelek's appearance is always obscured, very few have seen him, and any that have lived to call him 'lizard' often die shortly after. He is fairly tall, but does not tower as he barely clears six feet, and always wears cloaks and hoods - much of the time he wears robes that reach to the ground. Caelek’s eyes shine in the dark of his hood, usually the only part of his face that is visible; they are large and round, like a cat's, and burn orange with an insane light. His eyes are seen only occasionally - often the mottled brown of his robes shroud his face, and Caelek resembles the druids.
Weapons: Caelek possesses some magic, both offensive and defensive in his current form, but he can amplify his magic with certain gemstones. However, running magic through gemstones tend to stress the jewels, amplifying any flaws until the gems finally shatter; flawless gems large enough to enhance magic are usually more expensive than Caelek can afford, and better guarded than he can sneak. He also has a sword and a dirk and will occasionally use small throwing stars.
Abilities: As a dragon, Caelek is a very strong magic-wielder - he can work the magic of any race. However, trapped as he is in-between states, he has a difficult time working even simpler defensive glamour. As such he has learned to become adept with barbaric metal implements such as the sword and knife. He can use other weaponry with some success, but has found that it is easier to combine magic and armament when using swords.
Caelek’s strength and agility lacks the power of a dragon’s, yet it is more than a human may possess; his sensory perceptions and speed are excellent, but hardly any better than an elf’s; his endurance is no better than a dwarf’s. However, beyond the limitations of the body he is trapped in, his mind, temper, and fury is pure dragon.
History: As a young dragon, Caelek was sent to live among the elves, shifted into their form. He was to be a spy among them, to learn and report his findings. Caelek’s shift was perfect, it was highly convincing and highly powerful - his ability with magic was already well known, otherwise he likely would’ve had to wait several more years before undertaking his task. But the elves, sneaky creatures that they are, didn’t trust the newcomer in their camp...or perhaps they just didn’t like that he was stronger than they. Either way, they turned on the elven Caelek, threatening him. Too young to have gained enough wisdom to counter their accusations, Caelek panicked, and began to shift into his true form. The elves were quick - they pooled their magic and trapped him between forms, and for the next eleven years, slowly siphoned his magic from him. He was their trophy and slave - living in a cage of metal, and trapped in a cage of flesh and scale.
The day he escaped was a good day…a bloody day...the sky wept tears of joy at his good fortune.
Miscellaneous: It has been nearly two years since that day...and still Caelek is trapped between worlds, between powers. Apparently the elven tribe he infiltrated was quite unique in their ability – he has yet to find any with a similar glamour, even among the other races. But then…these mortals die so easily.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 3:21 pm
Name: Aegon M'ray
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Race: Human
Appearance: He is a tall, broad human. He wears a light green tunic and plain leather pants. He wears black leather bots tied up to his knees with strips of cloth. He has multiple leather strips around his waist and on his upper body. Tied to the different straps are bags, trinkets, objects from his past, some of them without necessity. He looks very similar to a modern day homeless man. His dark brown hair is curled and kinked; his beard is long, twisted with small bones and even more trinkets. Little red ties separate his beard into three braided sections, imitating a popular Dwarven style. His eyes are blue and wild, intense in their frantic motion. On his back is a long dagger tied to one of the belts. He also has a bow on his back, and a quiver near the front of either hip, full of arrows.
Weapons: He has a longbow strung over his shoulder and a hunting knife in a sheath on his belt. In a bag near the back of his right hip are two throwing knives.
History: Aegon was once a cleric of the platinum dragon Bahamut. He served devotedly for many years, pouring himself into the lore and history of his god. He became high ranking in the fledgling Platinum Order, a newly formed group of clerics, paladins, and fighters devoted to the cause of justice. As he grew closer to his brothers in cause, he grew closer to his god. Due to a sequence of events that he refuses to talk about, he fell from the favor of his god. He went out to the elven lands, and using his skills as a healer and mystic, he bartered for training in the arts of marksmanship and close-quarters combat. He then travelled the land, until he came upon a group of bards that put on a circus. He was their trained marksman act, using his skills to earn money for his travels. When he finally earned enough to leave, his bard friends presented him with his current bow and knife, as a token of their friendship. He spent a short time wandering the land, but eventually ran out of money. He has joined a local adventuring guild to try and build up more money. This time, however, he adventures as a ranger.
Abilities/Training:Misc.: He is trained in knives, archery, and elven martial arts. He has training in healing as well, and wields a few healing spells. He is also trained in wielding many types of weapons and armor, although he uses only light armor.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 7:47 pm
Holding the die between your thumb and forefinger with the opposite of your desired number on top, obscuring the numbers with the rest of your fingers- gently push forward your hand two inches, applying pressure with your forefinger to roll the die off your thumb- the die will roll one and a half times and the number desired will appear every time with practice. This is kid's stuff. If you switch your bets, purposefully lose on smaller pots, and maintain even you can go at least four games without anyone getting suspicious.
Kaiser mastered that trick at seven, and the man across the table from him was displaying every sign of this technique. But there was a flaw. Why call out his opponent on cheating when he could cheat right back for a profit?
Leaning over the table, rolling the die in his palm, the human backed by two half-orcs looked down on Kaiser like he was trash. "What do you say scruffy, one more go?"
Kaiser feigned contemplation before speaking, "Sure thing...But I've still got my tab to consider, and I can't afford to get thrown out of the bar without meeting the rest of my party tonight. Won't you raise the stakes for me?"
The half-orcs around the man chuckled, spraying mead over the countertop and dribbling down their matted beards, "I say go for it King, if the kid doesn't know when to quit you should teach 'em a lesson."
The man sighed and let his eyes roll over his winnings, "He doesn't have the copper to wager against mine, he'll have to offer something else. Any ideas?"
The half-orc to King's right crossed his arms, "Let him wager his two front teeth, that little b*****d's smug grin was pissing me off when he pilfered my pay last week over cards."
Kaiser nodded, digging the pin hammer he used on locks out of his pocket and placing it on the table, "Deal. I'll tear 'em out right here if I lose."
The half-orc spit on the floor, "Beholder's sack you will, you'll just cheat. King throws, you guess high or low."
Kaiser shrugged, "Fine. Just throw already. I'm guessing it'll be a low number." One half-orc elbowed the other, "Of all the sorry bets to make, if he'd been watching King at all he'd see our man's a high-roller."
King threw the dice as normal, right out of his hand Kaiser spied the one on the top of the die. He had pulled his spare pin hammer out of his right sleeve while no one was watching, and just as the die was nearing the end of it's roll, hit the underside of the table with the hammer as the tavern door creaked open. Three dots on the die open to the ceiling, Kaiser appreciated each dot as a metaphor for the three men across the table. If he knew what he was up against every time, he'd never lose.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" the half-orcs reeled with frustration and King stared at the die in disbelief as Kaiser raked in his winnings, picking up his hammer he had layed on the table. Moving now to the bar, the orcs were ready to tear Kaiser's arms off- but King motioned to leave, muttering under his breath. Kaiser stashed his winnings and layed a stack of copper on the bar for a drink. He had just bet his party's wages and stipend for provisions sure, but as usual he came out on top.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 9:21 pm
Aegon stood in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob. His eyes looked to the door, and pushed it back and forth, listening to it squeal. "Wow, this door is rather noisy." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Once again pausing to hear the noise. He shook his head, and took his time surveying his surroundings.
There was a grubby looking human with two half-orc bodyguards. A pretty typical sight. There was also a half-elf and a number of other patrons, many of them nondescript. He approached the bar, and pulled out a sheet of paper in his cloak, eyeing it secretively. He sat on a stool, and read it. He ordered a glass of mead as he sat and read the piece of paper again and again. He gulped down half the glass, gasping at the taste. It had been years since he tasted alcohol of such low quality.
He looked up to the bartender, and waved him over. He handed him the paper, saying, "I'm here for the adventuring party. Anyone else show up yet?"
The bartender pointed over to the half-elf. "The one who ain't human." His slur was evidence of his backwater history. He handed the sheet back to Aegon.
Aegon took the paper back, and mumbled a thanks. He put down two copper pieces to pay for the drink, and then finished the glass. He rose, and approached the half-elf. He looked him over, head to toe. He then looked off, his eyes shifting back and forth between items in the bar to some far place. He held out the paper, a writ from the guild. He was the designated healer.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 9:55 pm
Ichabod bottomed out the rest of his glass, the man's proximity and casual nature made him a little uncomfortable. "The name's Ichabod Kaiser, this is the first time the guild has given me party leader status on a mission so I'll ask pretty please you don't make any trouble for me down the line." Kaiser partitioned off a stack of coins and slid it down the bar to the man, "This is your stipend for supplies, initial pay, and a personal bonus from me to do what I tell you." Moving from the bar again he sat at a round table, he had the kind of drunk where he'd keep drinking given the opportunity, and nothing's worse than a hangover on a long trip. He motioned the man over and shuffled a deck of cards, "I'm hoping the others will arrive shortly-- is this your first mission with the guild? You look a little green if you don't mind me saying so."
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 10:21 pm
Aegon was very quiet, his eyes quickly moving around, taking in everything, searching indefinitely. He looked at the money slid over to him. Not an insignificant amount. He busied his hands immediately, sorting the money into equal amounts and stowing it quickly in different bags hung from his belt.
He looked up into one of the corners of the room, suddenly revisiting a memory. "I don't cause problems, but I'm not a mindless animal. That last part may save your life in a bind." He turned, and went to the table with Ichabod. He sat across the table from him and looked at the cards. "The name is Aegon M'Ray, marksman extraordinaire." He smiled, the title he only recently started using.
He pulled out one of the many bags on his straps. He opened it and withdrew his old letters. a few dozen sheets of paper with many different languages on them, "These are my qualifications. Not a lot of guild work, but I have done my share of adventuring. I even worked in a circus most recently." He displayed the papers on the table in a very organized manner. "How about yourself? How long have you been working for the guild?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 1:27 am
Caelek stood with his back to the side of the tavern's stone fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed slightly; the only movement was in his left hand as his fingers rubbed against a smooth, oval rock just larger than his thumbprint.
He was a dark shape in a negligible area of the tavern; he might as well have been a statue swathed in mottled brown cloth.
He had taken his place earlier, just before the sun set; and had made no move since to summon either food or drink. The maids that glanced his way caught the shine of glowing eyes looking back from under the hood and never looked again, taking extra care to give the shadowy statue a wide berth. Caelek knew the fear they felt, a strange uneasiness that grew into paranoia; a rush of air escaped from between his lips - laughter - as the tavern door banged open and one of the serving girls drew in a sharp breath. He heard a nervous titter as the girl giggled at her own foolishness, even as she had little idea what caused the apprehension. He had little to do with the girl's superstition, with what little imagination she possessed causing the shadows to stretch...
In the invisible dark of the hood, Caelek's lips pulled back in a perverted grin; his teeth pointed and sharp. No, he had done nothing to the girl - nothing but stand in his corner for a good three hours without moving - but that didn't mean he couldn't savor the flighting decent into unreasonable madness. His attention shifted back to the tables; at this time of night most were occupied...and most were occupied by mortals engaged in gambling games. Dragons were fond of games, especially games in which one could cheat -quite often the games were contests of such ability- but what disgustingly stupid games these mortals played. They honestly bet their precious hoard against luck..or implied luck. Dragon's games relied very little on chance and more on layering strategy and cheats. Gambling played a large role of course, for what was a game without stakes?
Glittering eyes swept the room, returning again to a particular table. He knew one of the occupants was part of a group Caelek was intending to meet - he was little more than a boy and the odor that wafted from his gangly frame had made the dragon's blood boil and his eyes burn bright when the brat had slipped through the tavern entrance. For an uncomfortably long minute, Caelek was no longer comfortably lounging beside the fireplace, he was chained inside a cage.
His tail snaked between the bars his hands gripped tight and shook in fury, his throat burning with a fire only blood could extinguish. The firelight was mirrored in his bright orange eyes, the cat-pupils dilated with madness. The elves danced around his cage and the fire in superior victory and drunken revelry, laughing gleefully as he threw himself the immobile metal bars. The bars would've bent if he were still in elven shape - the cage would be smashed to pieces if he were fully dragon; but he was neither. He was trapped between forms, trapped by those idiotic elves.
The shaking suddenly stopped, and the rage coelesced into a single clear thought. Stop moving. Caelek released the bars and backed away, the only sign of his rage in his burning eyes. The stinking elves were so easy to manipulate, especially once they were drunk -and they could get drunk, contrary to what many mortals believed. A few tankards of their special ambrosia, and the fluttering demon-spawn would be drunker than a fish in dragonfire - the aptly named dwarven favorite.
The drunken elves moved closer -their plaything wasn't being cooperative- and closer..and then Caelek moved. He was fast, a blur of green and blue scales reflecting the glow of firelight. He caught one, the ringleader, by the throat and squeezed. Blood spilled over his claws as they bit into resistant flesh...that was the night they broke his wings.
Caelek's eyes slowly closed and opened, dispelling the images. The elves hadn't dared kill him, killing a dragon would disrupt the balance of magic in the world - a balance the elves were particularly sensitive to. But they could and did dare to destroy his wings. They were only pitifully small things, trapped as he was between forms - but the damage done would last even when he was able to shift again. He'd managed to heal little by little over the past two years, but even now his wings were barely of use gliding.
The boy barely smelled of elf..he was maybe half at best; he had definitely been raised among humans. And though he played the ridiculous human games, he showed a better understanding of the means to cheat than his opponent - stupid clod, assumed he was the only one who was playing by another set of rules. Caelek smiled again, less derisively - the stripling had won, and in a maner that commanded grudging respect.
Caelek's eyes caught on quickly to the newcomer...strange looking even for a human. More interesting was the paper that appeared in the man's hand as he approached the bar; Caelek had one just like it, tucked into the folds of his cloak. The rest of the party was beginning to arrive.
He watched for another few minutes, his eyes narrowing as the boy, Kaiser, introduced himself - the introduction was returned promptly and the dragon now possessed two names: Ichabod Kaiser and Aegon M'Ray. He wondered briefly if another party member were secreted away in the tavern, sizing up the group as he did.
Caelek suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable as the human's eye ran over the tavern's occupants accompanied by a comment referencing a past event that obviously held strong, and likely unpleasant memories. He sighed softly and slid away from the wall, unfolding his arms and pocketing the smooth gemstone in a fluid movement. The idea of joining a ragtag group did not appeal to Caelek - but it was necessary. He had yet to find a clan that could reverse the elves' spell, and his magic was given to extrememly expensive tastes. The jewel in his pocket had cost the last of his copper and it would only last three weeks - a month at best.
Money...disgusting. In his lair he had all the jewels he could possible desire in his immediate circumstances; however, in his current...state..there would be no reaching his cavern. And so, he was reduced to...this: joining forces with half-breeds and vagabonds. Wonderful.
Caelek crossed the distance betwixt shadows and table quickly, but without hurry.
"Long enough to realize how far a little something...extra will go towards securing listening ears." He intoned just loud enough for his future travelling companions; his voice was gravelly and hoarse from disuse, faintly touched by an unpleasant hiss. "Well thought."
His tone implied a compliment extending beyond the immediate, inclusive of the game Caelek had witnessed from his corner. His right hand slipped into his robe and reappeared with a paper similar to the human's - the claws on his right hand weren't obtrusive and the sleeves of the robe covered the scales that began in patches just above his wrist. His head bent parallel to the proffered paper, tipped respectively.
"Caelek Draevus; magic user, sword-fighter, and all-around adventurer."
He swallowed the bile and pride that was rising in his throat, focusing on the goal. ((Yesh..Caelek interrupted. He's not the nicest person. I almost finished three times...XD I type too slow. =]))
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 6:20 pm
Kaiser had taken to lighting a pipe as his party assembled around him. Smoke wafting around his head with the subtle scent of clove made him feel more at ease; covered the grain, blood, and rotten wood stench of the tavern. "The last dragonskin I favored was a pair of boots. If you're half as reliable we won't have any problems. Here's your stipend, it seems to be the only thing keeping you here so there's some extra...And it would seem you've been here long enough to know where I got it."
Kaiser drew three cards and laid his hand on the table, straight flush Jack high. "If that dwarf doesn't show soon we may as well leave a letter for him here to meet up with us later and set out without him. It must be hard to have a decent grasp of time when you grew up underground but this is very unprofessional."
Shuffling the deck and stowing them away along with his party's credentials he reclined in his chair, laying his muddy boots on the table and puffing at his pipe. "For later reference, my plan was the dwarf to take point, I would walk second, Aegon you'd be behind me, and Caelek would take rear to watch your back. If the dwarf doesn't show Caelek takes point, Aegon'll be in the middle, and I'll bring up the rear. We'll be escorting one 'Prince Euram Beryl' from his cousin's estate to the small, newly established kingdom Rahal on a peninsula four days travel from aforementioned estate. If you don't have any questions, we'll be leaving within the hour."
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 4:00 am
Aegon had slowed considerably when he heard the dragon-man speak. His eyes actually froze on his face. His breath became quieter. He hadn't seen him in the shadows. He hadn't even seen him approach. He didn't like it. Aegon reeled in his memories, dragons and brave warriors alike flashing before his eyes.
He slowly phased back into the here and now, his eyes breaking from the creature's face. He looked down to the many papers before him, the papers documenting his entire adventuring life. He stacked them up quickly, as if rushing them away from the eye of the dragon-thing. They were stuffed back into the pouch they came from, and the bag was quickly tied to one of the many leather straps.
Aegon smiled softly, and looked down to the cards, his hands shaking a bit, as they searched for something to fidget with. They went to the contours of the table, feeling the rivets that kept it together. His eyes traced the edges of the table.
"I think we should wait for the dwarf. Nothing good comes from impatience. No, nothing good at all." He laughed a little bit. "Although I could stand to get out of here for a little." He seemed to be rattling, speaking quickly and somewhat unclearly. "Get out of this room.. This room is too warm. Maybe go for a breath of cold air." He stood, pushing the chair back. His hands went to the back of his head, instantly lacing their fingers. "Tell me more, tell me more about the prince. Never heard of him. Never heard of him. Makes no sense." He moved backwards a a little, eyeing the dragon man again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 9:17 pm
Ichabod dumped out the ashes from his pipe and refilled the bowl, lighting it by dipping a loose wick he kept into the oil-lamp on the table. Every party he had been in, it was always the cleric or bard ready to chat up a storm. "Fine, let's just step outside and wait." Just expecting the others to follow he walked outside and leaned against the wall outside the tavern, bathed by a nearby street lamp. He spied yet another game of dice going on in the alley across the street and his fingers felt an itch. He waited for Aegon to come into his line of sight before speaking. "It is a little complicated. Rahal is nearly isolated, very small. It should really be a fiefdom. But the King of Rahal has staked claim to all the untapped resources around him making the territory a bit bigger than it would appear, and he was a big name hero in the last great war with the outer planes of evil. Neighboring kingdoms have let him lay claim to such valuable land and retain the title of king because he sacrificed so much. His son, with great expectations, has been traveling as both student and emissary- you see the king hasn't left Rahal in over a decade so Euram has to make appearances on his behalf. Rumor goes the King and Queen were cursed. Euram has been at his cousin's estate for the past three months under the tutelage of a great duelist. Last week a letter was sent by Rahal's chief advisor, the letter said that Rahal was in a state of emergency and they needed Euram immediately. There does seem to be an enemy presence in the area and strangely Rahal has not requested reinforcement. Our job is to discreetly escort Euram to Rahal."
Kaiser sunk against the wall and sat on the ground, crossing his legs. "That's about all the recon I cared to do about the mission. We have no incentive to aid in whatever power struggle may be underway. Our job is to get Euram to Rahal safely."
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2009 1:05 am
Aegon quickly turned away from the table, his eyes locked on the floor as he exited. He paused at the door again, and nearly flinched at the sound of it opening. He analyzed it quickly, looking for something he could do quickly, but alas, there was no easy fix for an old door of its quality. He went out the door, and briskly stepped out into the path leading to the tavern. He breathed in a bit, finally feeling a bit better. His hands went to dig out a piece of something to chew. He found a piece of copper and bit at it slightly, unable to even dent the piece with his half-attempts at biting it. "Euram? Euram? Where do I know that name?" He busied his teeth with the copper as he pondered. "Did you not find out who it was that cursed the king? And what of the duelist? Who is he? Who is he?" He mumbled these questions to himself as he thought through the information. He seemed to shift into his own little world as he distanced himself even further from the party by another yard.
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2009 10:38 am
After taking a tree trunk swung by an ogre with full force, the cool night air was good for his lungs. It was simply invigorating.
Borgeroth shifted the burden on his back, a pair of half-ling children he had rescued from the dinner pot of the ogre.
They didn't weigh much, and there was hardly any meat on them. Nothing compared to the giant stag hanging on a tree branch over the fire. The ogre had meant to use them solely as flavoring for his stew. Borgeroth shuddered and spit at the thought.
"No worry, little ones, you are safe now." He softly rumbled over his shoulder. The girl was sound asleep, clinging tightly to his sturdy scale male armor, while the boy whimpered something of his mother.
When the monster was dead, Borgeroth had searched it's cave and found a head of beautiful, spider-silk-soft hair with the scalp still attached. The ogre must have thought it it's most prized possession. It matched the children's perfectly.
He hadn't the heart to tell them. Not quite yet.
Among the filth and rubbish that served as the monster's horde was a twenty foot pile of salt the creature had been using as a bed. Without a reliable method of carrying both his gear and the children, this allowed improvisation.
He skinned and gutted the stag, salted the entire body and filled its cavity with his gear. The half-lings fit together snuggly in his back pack, and he was off.
That had been hours ago.
Borgeroth trudged into the town dragging a mutilated deer carcass and a giant severed head. He thanked Hecate that the sun wasn't out, or the smell would have been unbearable.
Once during his long march, the children had woken up and complained. It took the rest of his wine to calm the three of them back into blissfully silent travel.
He was angry, tired, injured, and worst of all, sober. And just his luck, as he neared the tavern he was to find his next contract at, he saw the other members of his party were already outside waiting.
He was late.
Borgeroth left the gutted stag at the door, said "Ho! Don't touch," and without another word stepped inside the tavern. He explained the bounty on the ogre's head, the captive half-lings and the closed guild offices. After some short bartering, the bartender agreed to front two thirds of the payment and in return care for the two orphans.
He could have delivered the giant's head personally and received a full bounty, but he couldn't wait. Besides, he was now sure of the half-lings' welfare and that was something he was hardly able to provide on his own.
Skins full of honey-wine and pack empty of children, Borgeroth stepped back outside to formally greet his companions.
"Greetings, my companions. Call me Borgeroth. Now are we ready to go?"
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