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A low fire burns in the hearth of this comfortable common room. The tavern, is empty of patrons except for a lone human man nestled in a corner booth. The bartender is doing his best not to doze off on his counter while he flips a bottle cap into an empty mug. He looks up at the mention of a fire but quickly looks bored once more and returns to his impromptu game.
As mundane as it may seem, Most of you have been traveling for some time just to come to this place. You have arrived with no troubles and only now do you wait on a friend whom it is next to impossible to miss. You sit over drinks with old friends and discuss the possibility of working together to earn yourselves some gold, fame and maybe even answers for your individual struggles.
Aglaeca slumps into the bar, his brown hair disheveled, smudged with soot and smelling of Lamp Oil over the tangy sent of hellfire that seemed to purposefully invade the nose of anyone who came close, as if to verify that it was infact a Tiefling infront of you.
"Ah, Chorro, Nice to see you again, looks like a bit of a fire down the road, Secret Basement cult or something of the like. Looks like a bad time to be worshipping orcus or whatever."
Seeing the other's Aglaeca bows meekly and mumbles to the people who he doesn't remember "Aglaeca, Linguist, pleased to meet you" before wandering off to get a pint that he promptly hides his face with but does not drink"
In the distance in the Thick Glass at the inn, a lurid red glow can be seen.
"Aglaeca," offers Chorro in return, the minimal expression that passes for a smile briefly touching his craggy face. "is not last, this once."
The shifter's long-fingered hand moves through his raggedy mane of thick black hair, an absentminded gesture - no mere finger combing could right the tangle of spirit-locks and fetish braids he has accumulated.
"Chorro asks was it Aglaeca who lit this fire?" He stands to his full, impressive height, rangy and long-limbed but efficient in his movements. He seems very comfortable in his body, aware of exactly what he can or cannot ask from it.
He moves to the hazy window and looks out, more restless, you think, than curious.
Marcus regards the tiefling thoughtfully, offering only a slight nod as Aglaeca dismisses himself abruptly to hide behind a large mug. His thoughts are distracted as Chorro calls attention to the fire outside.
"What is going on out there?" he asks the shifter. Fingering the flame etchings of his staff, Marcus remains in his seat where the group has (presumably) gathered.
Karn simply sat, relaxing with his feet crossed on the table. In his hand, he held a dagger, using it to pick the dirt that had accumulated under his fingernails while they waited for the last member of their group to join him. He didn't know much about the goliath, heck he had never even seen a goliath before, all he knew is that they were big. Watching the shifter pace about uneasily, Karn lets a smirk creep onto his face as he continues his self-grooming. Then scanning the others with his eyes, he thinks, Definately an interesting group we have gathered here. If no work can be found, then we can at least cause a good amount of gossip.
The door to the tavern slowly creeks open. At first only a large ham hock of a fist clutching the comparatively small door handle is visible, and awkwardly steps through a mammoth of a beast who's skin is discolored and textured like that of a tree trunk. He saunters over to the table still crouched to avoid hitting his head on the exposed rafters. He is shy and meekly mutters, "hello all, sorry I'm late. I would've been here sooner but I stopped to admire a small house fire just down the road...". He recognizes a few of the faces, Aglaeca has talked "Sturdy" into helping him previously and knows of the Tiefling's intelligence and way with words. "Sturdy" has also been the hired muscle on a few "jobs" in which Karn was involved as well. They have never met but he has heard of Karn's skills indirectly through mutual business partners. He waives off a drink from the bartender and remains standing near the table knowing full well the consequences of a goliath sitting on a barstool intended for humans. He would've preferred that they heeded his advice to meet in the local wood but understands he was alone in that thought.
The bartender brings over a pitcher and a couple new mugs for all of you. He looks up with a dumbfounded look as he scoots past the goliath.
"Ahh, th- there you all go. More drinks for you eh? while ya discuss that business venture of yours. Heh, used to do some adventuring in my day! ya've probably heard of me, saved all kinds of dames from trouble. well.. their cats out of trees from the gardens nearby, I'm a great climber. nowadays I don't get much business outside of the tavern. Oh look at me babble on, hope ya enjoy the drink." the bartender heads back over to his counter and picks up his bottle cap once more.
Aglaeca nods to sturdy, seeming to be pleased to see the mountainous fellow.
Speaking to the rest Aglaeca gestures, "So what are we doing here, I was promised work translating, perhaps a few interesting tidbits here or there. We all seem to know each other in a round about way, so let their be no animosity here, so lets talk.
After a moment of thought, Marcus rises from his chair and speaks.
"Well met, then," he looks over the group one by one. "It seems most of you are familiar with one another, and I feel like an stranger among you. In truth, I have come from far-away Impiltur and have only travelled with Karn and his companion for a short while now." He gives a quick glance to his right where the half-elf and dark elf are sitting.
"But they have assured me," he continues, "that they know of no finer companions, and their word is enough to bring me here before you. I am Marcus Armethal, and I have been compelled by Lord Tempus to find warriors of strength and honor, and to help them achieve glory on the field of battle. Thus, I am at your service," he finishes with a small bow as he returns to his seat.
"So, where do we begin?"
Karn snorts at Marcus' last words before adding, "Not sure what kinda honor you'll find among this group, but good luck with that." Anyone observant enough will tell that he is talking more about himself than any of the others. "Anyway, I'm just here to make a living and since I don't know anyone here in town, and you all seem like a good group of blokes, I figure why not stick around for a bit."
Emerging from the shadows, what at first appears to be a pale skin elf, is actually a drow comes to take a seat next to the half elf.
"Mind if I sit" Dran asks. Not waiting for a response, he settles himself down and motions for the barkeep to bring a round over. Paing the man Dran introduces himself all the while fingering the hilt to a red handled sword at his waist.
"The names Dran Cutthral" hearing the half talk about making a living Dran adds "Aye Im of the same sword so to speak. In my travels here I have found that there is great wealth to be had here but only for those who can learn to work together" This coming from a drow seems a bit odd. It would seem that though his race is that filled with hatered, this one seems to be more tolerant of outsiders than most.
Not long after you sit down with your drinks, a group of tough-looking humans saunters into the tavern to the center of the room. The man seated in the corner leans back into the shadows of his booth. However, the seven new arrivals spot him. Four move to the front and back doors while three cross the room, cornering the patron.
Seeing the thugs move about the room, Dran just gives what appears to be the slighest hint of a smile and slowly and discreetly places a one hand on the red coloered hilt of his sword and grips his drink with the other one and takes a swig. Eyes working the room as he plans his moe should the thugs attack
"Chorro thinks they smell of piss and fear," the shifter says to Aglaeca, only vaguely under his breath.
Chorro chants briefly, a quiet singsong that smells of frost on the peaks and fog in the deep valleys. After a moment, from beneath the small table, a contented purrrrrrrrrr can be heard, as if from a vast, very comfortable kitten.
"The names Dran Cutthral" hearing the talk about making a living Dran adds "Aye I'm of the same sword so to speak. In my travels here I have found that there is great wealth to be had here but only for those who can learn to work together."
"Chorro cares little for your wealth. His wealth is the wealth of a full belly, the wealth of a warm fire, the wealth of a strong pack around him."
Fixing the dark-skinned elf with his amber eyes, the shifter continues. "Chorro is here because Aglaeca is the only pack he has now, and the spirits have sung that Chorro must forge a new pack, from among the packless peoples of the land."
As the group passes by their table, Karn continues to sip his drink while he secretly keeps an eye on them. He wasn't so sure that this gang wasn't here for him so he also begins to slip his dagger from the sheath in his boot. However, when three of them head for the lone patron in the booth, Karn relaxes a little. Seeing a bad situaion developing, Karn just hopes that none of his new friends decides its time to play hero, especially that staff weilding Tempus worshipper.
The leader of the group, a scarred man in chainmail leans menacingly over the table of the patron.
"you're the one, ain't you?"he asks
The other man recoils in the booth, mumbling. You hear him start to stutter,
"I-I-I d-don't know what you're talking about."
The scarred man seizes the shirt of the tavern patron, fumbles with the man's shirt collar, and yanks out a holy symbol.
Marcus turns to regard the men in the corner. He pays particular attention to the holy implement the aggressor had seized, wondering if the symbol is familiar to him.
Religion (Knowledge) Check (1d20+7=13)
Aglaeca stands up abruptbly and with a sly smile addresses the center figure who is manhandling the poor preistly type fellow.
" I find your lack of Faith Disturbing"
If Successful, The Center Fiend raises into the air held aloft by Aglaeca's Diablic Grasp for a minute before being flung towards the bar, over the coach [ aiming for e10) by a causual motions from Aglaeca.
Deals 15 damage to M if it hits, and slides him 4 squares.
grasp damage roll, http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2030747/
and this is why aglaeca can never have nice things, the tiefling thinks in his head.
Perception Check 1d20+6=9
"Sturdy" moves to the bar, not quite feeling comfortable with his possible future business partners or the new company in the bar. He says in a low voice, "I think I'm ready for that drink now."
Recounting the event, the mercenary leader remembers pulling his dagger from his leg sheath and holding it above the man he was looking to kill.
"I was standing there about to make this man's end when suddenly the grip of something sinister took hold of me, I could see the man's face moving downward by at least a foot or two before quite suddenly he shot away from me.. well no..I guess I flew away from him."
After this the mercenary leader crashed hard into a sofa chair which previously had such a nice touch on room flow.
"Take care of this rabble!!" he cried out to his men while stumbling to his feet to attack.
"Sturdy" moves to the bar, not quite feeling comfortable with his possible future business partners or the new company in the bar. He says in a low voice, "I think I'm ready for that drink now."
The bartender ducks behind the counter as he sees the mercenary leader fly across his bar.
"Serve yourself!" he shrieks.
Karn, expecting Marcus to take action is surprised when the warlock is the one to make the first move.
"We'll get 'em boss!" The two ruthless looking women look away from their leader and move towards the otherSeemingly harmless patrons.
The first of the two settles her sights on Marcus, taking a swing at him with her mace. She bashes into his armor and quickly shifts away from him, egging him on.
At the same instant the second ruthless looking woman hurls a dagger towards the half-elf, which misses him by a foot or so. She is clearly distracted by the goliath standing behind him, as she's never seen one in person before.
Vs. Karn's AC (MISS)(1d20+7=13)
Chorro grunts softly, stepping back out of immediate danger. Muttering a swift sing-song chant, he summons a flurry of minor spirits, in an attempt to distract one of the knife-throwers.
With a sinuous lunge, a broad-shouldered frost tiger bursts from beneath the table, menacing the door-guards with a low, rumbling growl and bared teeth.
The ruffian throwing knives seems to be too distracted looking up at the Goliath to notice the activity around her.
Free Action: Marcus winces at the mace's impact, but then smiles as his assailant tries to taunt him. "A fine hit, young lady," he say to her. "But Tempus will not favor until you face a true warrior who is ready." With a small nod, Marcus steps aside to allow Dran to move forward.
Move Action: The invoker moves past Dran and Karn to G-6.
Standard Action: With a quick word, Marcus creates a crystalline sphere and throws it into the farthest corner of the room where it shatters on impact, creating a thousand tiny shards of radiance.