Tales from the City of Opal

Game Master Patrick Curtin

This is my homebrew world Arcaia. This particular setting is the free city of Opal, a lush equatorial city set on the edge of an immense jungle rife with undead , ancient civilizations, and dinosaurs.


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Female Human
Dungeon Monkey wrote:
Sorry folks, RL kicking me ATM. Will try and pick up threads soon..

Likewise. I'm probably going to be in and out for the next month or so, so if I don't post for a couple of days, just NPC Vilya until I get back.


Female Human
Tobias Marshalsea wrote:
"Alright, I might be able to convince them we're on their side. Of course, bit less likely since they're probably listening to us right now, but I can give it a shot if they don't just shoot us."

"But shooting them would be so much more fun..."


Bribes always welcome

Yeah aplogies, I just haven't had a spare couple of hours to get the new map together ... Hopefully tonite :D Have fun at PaizoCon Shiny


Bribes always welcome

I'm gonna apologize a bit more, I have been very negligent about getting Photoshop up and running with a map. Please bear with and I will get it done (hopefully) by tomorrow am


Female Human
Dungeon Monkey wrote:
I'm gonna apologize a bit more, I have been very negligent about getting Photoshop up and running with a map. Please bear with and I will get it done (hopefully) by tomorrow am

No worries. My room for the con is lacking internet, so I've been really behind on everything.


NEW MAP

OK, call out your starting position and we will get this brouhaha started..


Female Human
Cartographer Monkey wrote:

NEW MAP

OK, call out your starting position and we will get this brouhaha started..

What do the three circles and large box represent? Sorry, I'm a little slow.


Bribes always welcome
Vilya the Taker wrote:
Cartographer Monkey wrote:

NEW MAP

OK, call out your starting position and we will get this brouhaha started..

What do the three circles and large box represent? Sorry, I'm a little slow.

No worries, the circles are in the ceiling, where the arrows are coming down. The ceiling is about 15' up


Male Human Sorcerer 5

Large box is the building we're in. The holes are, I assume, the holes in the ceiling.


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

Egan will Hustle to Z21, and slide his back against the wall, to hopefully keep out of site of those on the second floor.

Is there any obvious access to the second level, or anywhere Egan can get to have a line of fire to the second floor. I will send Whisperwing to scout if necessary


Female Human Rogue/Swashbuckler 1/4

Joleesa will end up somewhere around n8 so she can get a clear shot up to the second floor and then she'll continue with her stated action.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

I'll start where I'm at. So long as I can see the folks shooting arrows, even just a glimpse, I can use my spell.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

I want to give everyone a heads up: I'm traveling on business to Italy the week of July 5th (through the 10th), and to China the week of the 19th (through the 23rd). While I may have some internet time, I doubt it will be much during those weeks. So if the game gets the chance in that time to continue, please feel free to DMPC me as needed during those times. No rush, though; take what time you need, Pat. RL always comes first.


Bribes always welcome

Hey everyone. I just want to give you a heads up that I am going to put this game on the shelf for a bit. It's just a me thing, really, I have to do a lot of work for this mug since it is a sandbox, and I am feeling a bit stressed for time. I want to reopen it at some point, but With Bryan out and ADMaE dealing with issues I think it might be good to have a little break. Let me have some time to think up some stuff and I will reopen it later.


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

Egan will be patiently waiting, but will release the tension on his bow string so his arm won't get tired.


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

I sympathize. Workng 6 12's a week myself. I'll be here when your ready to start again.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

I'll be here when you're ready to restart, Pat. Well, not here, which is the Turin airport, but you know what I mean.


Female Human Rogue/Swashbuckler 1/4

I think you know by now that I won't be leaving any of your games until you pry them from my cold dead fingers Pat... ;)


Female Human

I've been having a lot of RL issues as well, so the wait is no problem in my book. I've been having to put all of my PbPs on the back burner, including the one I've been preparing to DM for the last four months. No worries.


Bribes always welcome

I do want to continue this particular game, but I have to invest an awful lot of time in it, as I am creating it 'from whole cloth' as it were. That and with my RL issues it's been hard to keep up. I do remain comitted to restarting it t some point, just not right now ..


I need to appoligise for my continued absence as well, life is still mental, but their is hopefully light at the end of the tunnel, so I can post when this starts back up.


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

Bump.
Any luck with RL fellas?


DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE

Heh. Hadn't thought on this one for a bit. Hell, if anyone's still interested I could 'reboot' it.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

Rubs eyes. "Huh ... what?"

Still here!


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

I am definatly interested. Was really enjoying this one. I'll be checking in to see if anyone else shows back up.
Unrelated, but can't wait for Heroes and Monsters, how about you Patrick?


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

I saw all you guys sneak back in here.


DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE

LOL. Go to the OOC thread for info. Iz/Nathan, you can see how excited I am by my subscription tag =D


DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE

*bump*


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)
Patrick Curtin wrote:
*bump*

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26 Reflex save to avoid being knocked prone from bump


Bribes always welcome

LOL


Bribes always welcome

10 Jade, 313th year FCO (Founding of the City of Opal)

The day has dawned hot and humid over the city of Opal. The blue waters of Turquoise Bay are dotted with the ships of a dozen nations, all coming to take advantage of the beginning of the dry season.

Dockside longshoreman struggle to load and unload trading galleases lined up along the stone keys. The air is alive with shouts and curses as the brawny workers winch off goods from all over Arcaia and winch back on pallets of foods and spices from Opal's plantations. A thin grey-bearded man inspects a collection of bananas, finally waving his hands over them in a complex series of gestures.

The streets just beyond are alive as people emerge after the long spell of dreary rainy weather. The Prayer Callers' ritual chants to Quetzalcouatl ring forth from the four prayer towers at the massive Temple of the Feathered Snake, echoing and re-echoing along the bright adobe and brick buildings.

"Come to prayer!" The Prayer Callers sing out in a weirdly-modulated sing-song tone. Prayer is better than sleep! Come and worship the Rainbow Guardian, The Morningstar, He who is a Fire against the Abyss!"

A sailor dressed in Theranan garb lies in the street gutter, snoring loudly, a bottle of cheap rum still tucked in his fingers. A local urchin sidles up to him looking at his belt pouch. Other sailors sit at tables outside a naerby corner pot shop, spooning up cheap stew and nursing hangovers with cheap Opalline rum and fruit juice concoctions known as 'Lizard Licks'.

A man dressed in plantation clothes argues excitedly with a dry goods merchant, both of them imitating windmills with their arms and hands. Several Lumpers stand at the road by them, grunting in short pig-like snorts. Armed plantation men watch their boss, grinning at the scene of high theater the haggling indicates. Eventually, whatever difference of opinion is settled and the two embrace like long-lost brothers.

A trio of Sliss'pok Lizardfolk walk along the raised sidewalk, their bodies brightly painted with writhing symbols. Long fearsome tridents tipped with razor-sharp obsidian tines are gripped in their hands, and wicked-looking blowguns adorned with exotic feathers are slung on their backs. Their golden cat-slitted eyes scan the restless crowds warily

Two young plantation scions laugh and swagger down the sidewalk, nimbly avoiding piles of droppings so as not to spoil their fine-tooled dino leather boots. They both wear the Clenched Fist cloak broach, indicating they belong to that Sword Circle. Their brightly patterned silk cloaks snap behind them in the freshening ocean breeze. Their wide-brimmed plantaion hats sport a riot of colorful feathers from both bird and dinosaur.

A group of immigrants sweating in rough wool homespun follow a man dressed in plantation guard gear: Metal breastplate, sword, dagger, cured Lumper-hide helmet and greaves, supple leather gloves that extend to the elbow. He carries a snake fork cane in one hand, the polished mahogany stick bifrucated at the end and sharpened into wicked points. He lectures the newcomers as they walk towards the river, using his cane to punctuate his points:

"Remember when y'all get settled in that everything around here, even the little lizards can have a powerful poison. Y'all evah see a red and black scaly critter 'bout the size of a rat hiding in your privy you best bettah give it some room. That's what we calls a Killquick Lizard round heah, an' it likes to nap in warm wet places, so always check the hole 'fore you put your business end down."

He leads them on, his strident voice fading into the background as he tutors the newcomers in the realities of plantation life.

The vine-covered marble pile of the Opal Explorer's Guild looms up in front of you. The Common Room is open for business, and already a ragtag group of wannabe adventurers are crowded along the Posting Poles outside, looking for employment. A dozen men offer their services, their goods, or their sisters to the crowd milling about the immense papered-over columns.

A well-armored man with half-a-dozen facial scars, a large sword sheathed in a colorful black diamond-patterened dinohide scabbard and several orbiting stones whizzing about his head strides inside, possibly heading for one of the Private Parlors. He is quickly followed by a stern-looking man in black garb, with a slender sword at his hip and a silver-buckled hat upon his brow.

Perhaps today would be a good day to look for an adventure!

A rewriting of the initial opening. You can all get a drink at the Common Room, and reacquiant yourself with each other. I am assuming that a year has gone by since the initial foray, and that perhaps something bad went down, which is why some of the originals are no longer here.


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

08 Jade, 313th year FCO (Founding of the City of Opal)

Egan sat in the same dingy corner of the Three Legged Lizard, where he always sat. His head was heavy from the cheap ale he had been consuming for the last year. Seemed it took more of it to help him forget than it used to...which was a problem in his current financial straits. He absently felt for the pouch hanging around his neck, feeling the few coins left...and silver at that. He had already pawned his weapons, and armor, and cashed in his gem. What was he to do now...so he ordered another drink from the passing barmaid, that used to pretend to be interested in him...and now offered him only pity.

The bellowing of the mighty beast, and the splintering of the mighty Kapok trees as it charged his party...how could he have not known the beast lurked nearby. He had gotten lazy. He had come to rely too much on his sharp senses to keep the party out of danger...and now they would pay for his carelessness. He heard the cries of alarm as some members of the party scurried for cover, but the cries of terror and pain were the ones that filled his dreams. He turned back to help, then the tree branch that knocked him senseless took him out of the fight before he could even begin to take action.

The survivors had revived him, and he kept his senses about him enough to get them back to Opal without further incident...but those who died. That was his fault, and cheap ale had slowly came to replace fruit juices in his diet. This was what he deserved. Even Whisperwing realized his shortcomings, and had disappeared for good a week past. Still he didn't blame the faithful bird. He was a creature of the wild, not one to exist on ally rats, and hissing roaches.

As his head began to nod towards the table, he felt himself being jerked to his feet, then spun around. He saw only a fang filled mouth, with familiar reddish eyes, before he felt the pain of the slap. Helpless to resist, he put up little resistance, as he was dragged to a watering trough outside the rough tavern, and thrown bodily into the scummy water. Choking, and trying to catch his breath, he was dimly aware of his "friend" Whisperwing, flapping about and squawking at his assault. "This bird is a better friend than you deserve", growled the familiar voice of his teacher Savagil. "At least he cares if you live or die, if you do not".

For two days Savagil nursed my tortured soul, back to health; my faithful companion Whisperwing at his side. The bird brought back a talon torn squirrel, or chipmunk every few hours in the hopes that this nourishment would return his hunting companion to him...and eventually it did. The morning of the 10th dawned, and Egan awoke to the shimmering heat of the day, actually thinking about doing something creative again. Yes the party was his responsibility, and yes he had failed, but as Savagil had reminded him...The Jungle took what it wanted, when it wanted, and no man could change that fact. Egan went downstairs his balance a bit unsteady, but his head clear for the first time in a year.

Savagil, and Whisperwing awaited in the living room of the small house the Upland Rangers kept in this district of Opal. "You owe me one", were the gruff Half-Orc's only comments, as he tossed a heavy sack at Egan's feet, and started out the door, leaving Egan and his hawk companion as the only occupants of the small house. Egan watched his friend depart, more amazed by him actually spending three days in the city, than his nurturing the Ranger back to health. Egan knelt and opened the sack to find his weapons and armor inside, along with a small pouch of coins, and a note. Friends await at the Explorers Guild.

Egan with a content sigh, held out his arm for his mighty friend to perch, and stepped into the daylight, clearheaded for the first time in too many weeks. Let's see what the Jungle has in mind for us now". , he whispers to his stalwart companion. "Just need to make one stop along the way".

Egan stops at a small market booth, along the way, and purchases a pouch of Gizzards...Whisperwing's favorite treat, and smiles as the bird hops impatiently from foot to foot in anticipation. Then before leaving he purchases the small flask of Opaline rum... telling himself it was for medical purposes only, but feeling more confident, as he stowed it among his possessions and continued along his way.

With a gulp and a quick breath he opened the door to the next chapter of his life...and the Adventurers Guild...paler and weaker, but more determined than he had been in some time.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

San slammed his empty tankard down on the table at the Explorer's Guild, bellowing for a refill. The fact it was till early morning, and it was his third of the day, went a long way towards explaining why he hadn't had many jobs lately. Since the disaster of a year ago, he had been limited to simple "infestation" clean-ups: helping plantations eliminate the occasional zombie or even ghoul. It wasn't like he tried for that; it was almost as he'd been blackballed - employers knew what had happend and didn't seem to want to give him anything too important. Even the Order of the Feathered Serpent seemed to shy away from meaty assignments.

As a result, the ordinarily morose and sarcastic half-elf had truly sank into despair. While not a total drunk (yet), he found more and more of his increasingly meager paychecks going towards cheap ale and whiskey. Why not live up to expectations, after all?

He hadn't seen his good (and probably only) friend Izkrael in some time, and San supposed he didn't really blame him. Who'd want to hang around a loser like himself, anyway? Now to San, it wasn't really a pity party; it was more a simple observation. Still, he missed his friend and felt lonlier than even after his parents were killed all those years ago. In a self-fulfilling cycle, the alcohol seemed to help fill the void.

"Well, I'll be a hadozee's uncle ..." San suddenly remarked as the familiar face came through the door. He hardly noticed the serving girl who brought his refill. "If that's not Egan frickin' Coyle, then I'm seein' things and drunker'n I thought!"

Yelling to him, San exclaimed, "Coyle! Is that you? What in the Hells made you darken this doorstep after all this time?"


Female Halfling Swashbuckler 6

"Excuse me, Pardon me, Coming through" A young halfling yells as she dodges round and through various taller peoples legs as she makes her way through the crowd towards the posting poles outside. Upon reaching the poles however she immediatly encounters the problem of none of the posts actually being posted at her height.

"Gah look out, sorry, Dont mind me." She yells as she makes her way out of the crowd and heads towards the front door of the Explorers guilde "Hey pal you make a better wall than you do a door." She yells up at the man with the bird currently standing in her way.

The halfing is on the short sid even for one of her kind standing at about 2 ft 8inches she has shoulder length messy brown hair with blue eyes, her attire consists of very good quality studded leather armour of the following design Felicia A fine rapier in a sheath on her belt.


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

Izkrael walks down the streets of Opal, having just returned from a long foray into the surrounding jungle. He had really kind of lost everything but the hunt after the old group was scattered that day. He rarely went back into the city these days, and when he did, it was only to resupply.
But on his most recent foray into the jungle, just a couple of weeks in, he had come across a large feather, over a foot long, with the most brilliant green, red, and blue coloration. This beautiful plumage rekindled something inside of him. Something he thought he had lost, the ability to enjoy life. He kept the feather, and headed back into Opal.
He felt a need to show this to someone who would understand, and the only person he really knew that would was San. San wasn't usually hard to find from what he had been told. So he began to check the watering holes that they had sometime frequented in the past.
It wasn't long before he checked the Explorer's Guild, and saw San sitting at a table with Egan of all folks. Smiling to himself at this sign of providence, he walked up to the table.


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

As Egan stood in the doorway, the noise, and smell of the place almost overwhelmed his sensitive senses. He had been dulled by rum for so long, that the real world seemed almost a dream.

"Uh...oh...pardon me", he replied with a forced smile as the small, but loud halfling attempted to pass him. "Must have been day dreaming". . He then stepped aside to let the smaller person pass.

Hearing his former companion's voice, and seeing him for the first time...since then...brought forth a wave of Panic on Egan, and he subconsciously touched the flask inside his cloak. He overcame his initial reaction, and with a determined stride, joined San at his table. "It is good to see you are well". "I...I...Egan seems unable to come up with anything to say, and instead folds his hands and looks down at the table.

He looked up again, as he heard an exclamation of joy from his former companion. Izkrael? What happenstance would bring us three to the same place again?

Sczarni

Female Human Oracle of the Heavens 6

The city was overwhelming to her sense of smell, a myriad of scents, some intriguing, far more of them unpleasant, assaulted her, a far cry from the earthy natural smells of the jungle.

Yet she had follwed the stars and this was where they led, the Goddess guided her path, and if it was to be in the middle of this chaos then so be it.

Even in a city as large as Opal, Citlali drew attention, whether it was because of her attire, far less than the full clothing the soft city dwellers wore, or her bearing, or even the spear she carried with practiced ease, she could feel the eyes on her, probably ready to prey on an obvious outsider.

A cloud passed, casting a shadow over the street, the sunlight managing to force its waythrough to strike a single building in the immediate area, one of those drinking places frequented by idle warriors.

A clear sign.

She crossed the roadway in silence eyes studying the faces of those as she enterered, watching their eyes and mouths.


Bribes always welcome

The Common Room of the Opal Explorer's guild is an immense space lined with tables and booths crafted in mahogany, teak, and blackflame. The tables are thronged, as usual with adventurers, explorers and those who had need of their services. The walls were whitewashed adobe, with large open windows lined with sheer colored fabrics to keep the bugs at bay. The early morning breeze off Turquiose Bay stirs the gaily-colored coverings, cooling the crowded room.

A serving wench in a short floral-print dress walks up to San.

"What are you drinking?"

Her left arm balances a tray with several concoctions on it

Several tables away, knot of Hyrkmirians stomp their boots and laugh at some joke. Their booming guffaws echo over the buzz of conversation in the large room. Nearby, a group of hungover Argentum privateers glance sourly at the large dwarves/small giants, obviously misliking the rowdiness and the noise level.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5
Egan Coyle wrote:

Hearing his former companion's voice, and seeing him for the first time...since then...brought forth a wave of Panic on Egan, and he subconsciously touched the flask inside his cloak. He overcame his initial reaction, and with a determined stride, joined San at his table. "It is good to see you are well". "I...I...Egan seems unable to come up with anything to say, and instead folds his hands and looks down at the table.

He looked up again, as he heard an exclamation of joy from his former companion. Izkrael? What happenstance would bring us three to the same place again?

San keeps a huge grin on his face as Egan comes up, although it seems forced and not entirely filled with joy at the sight of his old compatriot. His words slur ever so slightly as he remarks, “Well? Not so sure that’s what I am, but at least I’m up and around, rather than jungle-worm food. Guess that’s enough. So, what have you been up to? I’m surprised to see you, honestly. I’m pretty much a regular at the Guild, and I know I haven’t seen you since … the last time I saw you.

“Heh. Actually I ain’t seen anyone since then, other than Iz a few times. ‘Course, even he’s been scarce lately … well, I’ll be a son of a lumper. You speak of the devil, and look who comes walkin’ up. What’s up, Iz? Slumming it today? Or is this an intervention?” His grin at the approach of his old friend seems more genuine, although a slight bit of suspicion also crosses his brow. Why was Iz here? It had been at least two months since San had last seen him, and he had thought his friend had essentially given up on him. And at the same time as Egan, too … San didn’t believe much in coincidences.

Dungeon Monkey wrote:


A serving wench in a short floral-print dress walks up to San.
"What are you drinking?"

“Heh. Good question.” San sniffs his empty mug, and recoils a bit. “I told the other girl to just bring me somethin’ cheap and strong. Guess that’ll do again. And bring two more for my friends here.”


Bribes always welcome
Sanvoros Draben wrote:
“Heh. Good question.” San sniffs his empty mug, and recoils a bit. “I told the other girl to just bring me somethin’ cheap and strong. Guess that’ll do again. And bring two more for my friends...

The waitress nods and whirls, showing a tanned set of legs. the slender sword scabbarded at her side doesn't detract much from the pleasant picture. She disappears towards the bar and returns with three clay tankards.

"Driftwood Rum and lime juice. That'll be six snakes."*

*

Spoiler:
The 'snake' is the Opal name for a copper piece, the back is stamped with a Quetzal.


Male Half-elf Ranger / 6 (Falconer)

Egan begins to sweat as the cold, delicious beverage is put in front of him. I shouldn't... but just one won't hurt. It would be rude to turn down the offer of a former friend. Maybe we could be friends again.

Just as Egan reaches for the cold drink, Whisperwing vaults from his shoulder in a rush of feathers and squawking. As Egan watches the bird make a circle of the room, causing the occasional curse, and ducking of the head, the bird flies right back at him, and with a disgusting plop deposits a load of recycled gizzards and who knows what else directly into the cup.

The bird then lands directly back on Egan's shoulder, as the room explodes into laughter. Thank you friend. "I appreciate your offer San...but I'm trying to lay off the juice for awhile". "Maybe a water will suffice".


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

Izkrael sets the mug to the side, looks at San, and says,

"Only if it needs to be, friend. I think all of us have had our fill of moping about though. And you and I have obligations to our Feathered Lord. We cannot afford to sit around doing nothing effectual while the foes of life and light dwell around us, not until they sleep eternal."

He turns to Egan, and smiles at the hawk on his shoulder.
"Good to see your friend is looking after you still. Glad to see you both again."

He looks at San, grabs the mug to his side, and takes a sip, watching his friend, waiting to see what response he gets.

Sczarni

Female Human Oracle of the Heavens 6

An exceptionally beautiful young woman enters the Common Room, pushing open the double doors, she stops and takes in the sight of a room of people most of whom appear to be laughing at some commotion involving a bird.

She seems to look intently at multiple faces, studying them momentarily before striding into the room with a sure yet guarded stride.

Obviously a jungle native, she seems the very embodiment of savage elegance, her scant tribal garb adorned with teeth and feathers, worked bronze and leather, giving way to large expanses of flawless marble white skin cultivated by a lifetime within the heavy jungle undergrowth.

Her form exudes feminine strength, her body toned, yet without an excess of muscle, still hinting to softness while having a statuesque bearing that adds to her presence. Long raven black hair cascades down her shoulders and the back of her neck, rich brown eyes intense and focused, a direct gaze targeting any who happen to be speaking, calmly studying the speaker intently.

In her hand she holds a spear with practiced ease, an odd stone club sitting on her hip while a ceremonial looking helm sits atop the pack slung over her shoulder.


Female Halfling Swashbuckler 6

"Thank you" Felicia responds as the tall fellow lets her pass into the Common room looking around she was confronted with a new problem she wasent all that sure who to approach or what to ask. She watched the tall fellow enter into the common room after her and the commotion his pet bird made. Deciding he and the two other men he was speaking with were as good a place to start as any she moves in closer to see if she can hear what they are talking about.


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5
Izkrael wrote:

Izkrael sets the mug to the side, looks at San, and says,

"Only if it needs to be, friend. I think all of us have had our fill of moping about though. And you and I have obligations to our Feathered Lord. We cannot afford to sit around doing nothing effectual while the foes of life and light dwell around us, not until they sleep eternal."

He turns to Egan, and smiles at the hawk on his shoulder.
"Good to see your friend is looking after you still. Glad to see you both again."

He looks at San, grabs the mug to his side, and takes a sip, watching his friend, waiting to see what response he gets.

"Oh, c'mon, Iz. You know damned well I take whatever assignment the Order gives me. But just like prospective employers, I ain't gettin' anything other than zombie 'mop-up'. And that's when they contact me at all. I'm here alot. They know where to find me. OK, so I don't stop by there anymore, but it's cause they think I'm damaged goods. If I thought they'd give me somethin' serious, I'd be by more."

San takes his mug, and drains half in one gulp. "And I ain't moping. I'll take whatever I can get right now."

San looks to Egan. "That's some trick Whisperwing pulled off. I'd chuckle myself, except it's waste of good rum. Or bad rum. Whatever. Next time, just slide it on over to me if you don't want it."

Taking another gulp, he eases back in his chair a bit. "So this is quite the coincidence, wouldn't you fellas say? The three of us here, all at the same time. 'Cept, I don't believe in coincidences. What do you guys know that I don't? Anyone else coming by, too?"


"All stories need to begin somewhere," Kessel muses as he approaches the guild, "and this is as fine a place as any to begin the tale I suppose."

Dressed in his finery, with a battered old lute on his back, Kessel looks every bit the court bard he was trained to be. He carries himself with the poise, dignity, and self assurance one would expect from the nobility and despite being half a foot under six feet those dark, almost black eyes of his seem to stare straight through a man's soul, and his glare could usually cause folks to back away far more efficiently then brute force or muscle.

"I am not pleased with the drinking though," Kessel says to himself, "it will make the place sound like a tavern, and no good story of adventure should start in a tavern. That's far to generic and common. I shall leave that detail out:

"In the adventures halls told tales of gold,
stories spun of mysteries old,
Strode into the hall: the blood of Kells,
Of his adventures this story tells."

The words were still a bit rough, there would need to be some description to set the story before the central character's introduction, and the "this story tells" bit would need to be rewritten, far too hokey for an epic story (but not a bad line for a ribald one), it wasn't a great start, but it wasn't a bad one. The voyage to the city hadn't been much of a story , no great storms, no sea monsters, apart from a little sea sickness, not much hardship at all to report. That chapter could be glossed over with a simple:

"From across the sea Kessel did come,
twas the isle of mists he was from"

but supposing he did find inspiration for his epic, this was as likely a place as any to find it. Starting the tale here would make sense.


Bribes always welcome

Folks at the table

A small woman approaches San, Iz and Egan. There are enough Parrot Islanders making a living as sailors that she is easily identifiable as a halfling. even for that diminutive race, she is tiny, but her gear bespeaks a familiarity with the rigors of adventuring.

Perception DC15:

Spoiler:
It is hard to miss the striking woman who enters the common Room in backcountry Zapatec garb. Her marble skin bespeaks kinship with the Deep Clans, those reclusive inhabitants of the jungle that have lived in the shade of immense trees since before the Xoltec Empire fell.

Perception DC20 :

Spoiler:
You notice a newcomer with a lute strapped to his back entering the Common Room. He has a certain ...presence. A half-dozen visual cues let you know he is recently arrived at Opal, but that is far from unusual.


Male Elf Paladin/Ranger 4/1

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19Perception


Male Half-Elf Ranger 1 / Wizard (transmuter) 5

perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19


Female Halfling Swashbuckler 6

Perception

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

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