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Björn Arinbjörnson wrote:
Eh, don't worry about it. I'm more into the roleplaying than the rolling, if you catch my drift.
I dunno how well Skane would take the joke, and if I did use it, I'd need to wait until everyone had forgotten that post. So if it does turn up, it'll be down the road.
I must admit that while I know the reference, I never really played the Final Fantasy games.
And excellent, I'll be taking notes. >:D
Nope, not as long as you tell me what it is or provide a translation.
The dryad cringes and curls tighter around herself when the party approaches. Wilhelm stands there dumbfounded as he spots the fey.
Helena's spell closes some of the wounds but she is still injured and afraid.
"C-cé go bhfuil tú?"
"W-who are you?"
"Blasted northmen, coulda told us what set them on this merry chase." Wilhelm mutters as he follows the to men, jogging to keep up with their strides.
Less than thirty yards away, Bjorn and Skane come upon a small knot of pines that tower into the sky. Within they find a strange woman with hair that looks like pine needles and skin that has the appearance of the polished pine wood. Her clothing is in tatters and her body is covered in cuts and gashes that weep an amber liquid that looks like sap.
Know(nature) DC 18:
The strange woman is a dryad. A kindly fey that protects woodlands and forests.
Heal DC 15:
She's just about dead. 0-2 HP She'll survive, probably, but binding her wounds would likely go a long way to helping.
It's hard to tell, but the goblin tracks are definitely not older than those of the patrol.
Wilhelm lets out a low growl as he stands up.
"Goblins, miss, are horrid little creatures. They live only to kill, maim, and destroy. What troubles me is goblins haven't been seen in these woods since I was a lad."
His eyes move along the trees. His gaze like flint.
"Be careful. There are vile things afoot if those little monsters have come back to these woods."
Well, it seems the two brothers did indeed drink the Dragon dry. Both Skane and Bjorn are sickened for the next four hours.
Sir Corwin looks at Helena with dark eyes.
"Miss, I have spent many nights awake with worry. I hope that you can find out what's going on, and I thank you for what you are doing. I am truly in your debt."
Wilhelm returns Helena's smile with one of his own before turning to Kylar.
"First 'twas the caravans and travelers, then when we sent patrols out to see what was going they came back empty-handed, or not at all. I knew many of those that went missing on those patrols, but if what I fear has happened has come to pass, all we'll find is bones."
Turning to the others, he calls out.
"If ye got everythin', then let's get movin'. The days already short enough without dawdlin' here."
Wilhelm leads the group out of the town walls and towards the forest. About 500 yards away, he takes a faint trail that leads to the east of the main road. The clear skies darken as you approach, as if the forest itself was looming over you with barely restrained malice.
Under the boughs and limbs that blot out the sun a gloomy silence smothers the place. The chill in the air seeps into the skin and goosebumps come unbidden.
Survival Wilhelm: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Wilhelm kneels and looks at the tracks, his bow in hand. A frown wrinkles his face and he mutters under his breath.
"That can't be right."
Survival DC 4:
The tracks of the patrol are easy enough to spot, despite being at least two days old. Five sets of heavy boots left prints deep in the ground.
Survival DC 14:
These tracks, however are much harder to spot. They look like they were made by children, if the children had sharp claws on their toes. What ever they are, there appears to be a dozen of them.
If you made the Survival DC 14 check. Know(nature) DC 5:
These are goblin tracks.
Perception DC 20:
You hear what sounds like a woman crying up ahead.
"I'm afraid beyond the promised gold that is almost all I can offer. The town guard was short-handed even with our numbers. Now it is more so."
Sir Corwin Stands and looks at each in turn before continuing.
"I am grateful to all of you. We will have some supplies ready for you at dawn. If you do not have any other questions, you may return to the inns and rest for tomorrow. I will come get you at first light."
The knight starts in surprise at Rayla's question, he sighs and looks at a place on the floor about six inches from her feet.
"She is indeed. She's like a little sister to me." The man shakes his head and returns his gaze to the others.
"I cannot ask you to go out tonight. The hour is late and I am sure you would appreciate a night's rest before heading." Sir Corwin's eyes grow dark as he continues. "Besides, if this time is like the others, it may not matter how soon you head out."
The guards lead you to a stout wooden building that looks like it was a fort at some point. Inside the signs of old battles make the timbers and the stink of sweat, leather, and metal overwhelms everything else as the group walks in. They are escorted to a large hall that has only a single woman in it waiting patiently. The guards leave and a few moments later, a man clad in well-maintained scale mail walks in. He is taller than most, almost six and a half feet. His dark hair hangs in greasy strands and bags hang under his eyes.
"My apologies for the late hour. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but things have grown desperate here. I promise five score of crowns to each of you if you accept the task I have for you. You have made it through the Blackwoods, and that means you have skill or luck with you. You will need it if you accept."
His eyes lock with each of the six before him, cold as hardened steel and unflinching despite the man's obvious fatigue. He nods to himself before continuing.
"What I am about to tell you does not leave this room. The roads into and out of Hammenholdt are dangerous, and I fear they will become more so if people begin to panic and flee. If you choose to not accept this, then I can only wish you luck and pray that Iomedae watches over you as you continue your travels."
He pauses, his shoulders slumping before continuing on.
"About a year ago, traders and travelers began disappearing on the roads around Hammenholdt. The occasional caravan and lone traveler has gone missing before, but not like this. These vanished, no blood, no wreckage, no bodies. The town sent patrols out, but they either came back with nothing, or not at all. A few couriers had managed to avoid whatever it was that kept getting the others. They brought word of what was happening and two months ago, Count Vinelander sent me with a score of men of my choosing to investigate and help defend the town. We have found nothing despite constant vigilance on our part."
The man sighs, something deep within him seeming to darken as he stares off into the distance.
"Or that was the case until today. A patrol lead by one of my best fighters, a Lady Gweniver has not come back and I fear the worst. Your task is to go out and search for what happened to them. They were covering a game trail to the west of the main road, and unfortunately that's all we have. Knowing this, do you accept?"
The Snow Dragon:
"That's why we're here, Miss. We don't expect traveler's to know their way wherever they go." answers the man, who must be the leader of the group.
"As for Sir Corwin's character, he is a brave and loyal knight in the service of Count Vinlander. He was sent here to give aid to the town, and is now offering coin, good coin, to any who come with us to meet with him."
"You could say that it's pressing, yes," he says, "As for Sir Corwin, he is a knight under Count Vinelander, and a brave and loyal man. The Count sent him here to help Hammenholdt get to the bottom of... something." He finishes, picking his words carefully.
Gawain shakes his head when asked how much was owed, "Payment can wait. I'll make sure your things are taken care of while you're gone."
"Not as such. I am simply a man-at-arms. If you'll follow me, miss." answers the man with a chuckle at Rayla's question. He leads to a study looking building with golden light pouring out of its narrow windows. Inside, the smell of sweat, metal and leather overpowers everything else. The escort leads to a feast hall, one that had seen a battle or two from the look of the timbers in the ceiling and the walls.
"Please wait here. We're hoping a group from the Snow Dragon's Den shows up. Sir Corwin will meet with you once the others return."
Something, the same something that lead you here, pulls at the edge of your mind. For a brief instant, a vision of a noble dressed more like a hunter than a noble and a knight in shining scale appears before you. You can't hear anything more than muffled murmurs, but you know for a fact that this is Count Vinelander sending Sir Corwin to Hammenholdt. As the vision ends, the something is pleased that you have already decided to go with these men.
The Snow Dragon:
"I apologize for being terse, but Sir Corwin wishes to speak with you. I assure you all that it is a matter of dire importance and that any who answer his call will be rewarded." Says the man, despite the lack of information he gives, it seems that he is indeed sincere.
"I am afraid not miss. We are here to escort you to Sir Corwin. He wishes to speak with you at once on an urgent matter." Says the leader of the troop earnestly.
As all of you settle in for the night, enjoying conversations with both keepers and guests, or sizing up potential company for the night, a few men, wearing fine armor and leathers, burst in. At both the Hobbit and the Snow Dragon, they ask only one question.
"Who of you came in this day?"
And this is why I wasn't worried about which in you stayed at. ;)
Björn and Skäne:
Kark's eyes narrow when Björn snarls at him in a tongue that the kobold doesn't know before he has the chance to reply to Skäne.
"There are some things worth more than coin, Northman. I may not understand your tongue, but I know a threat when I hear one." His voice pitches low and menacing as he continues. "You are welcome to stay if you wish, but if I so much as think you are about to start something I will have you out in the streets. Am I making myself clear?"
"Oi Lass, Oi think dere be shomethin' unner me bed. Perhaps ye can stay the noight wit' me an' keep da munsters away!" answers a red-faced man, who is obviously well into his cups to a chorus of bawdy laughter.
"Aye, an' 'ow's about I tells yer wife about wha' really 'appened ta 'er good linens?" shouts another, younger man, bringing an even louder round of laughter from the rest. Even Gawain gives a hearty chuckle.
"Well, Miss Rayla. It seems you have made quite the impression on Luther. Hold off on the tales though, I'll be right back with something hot and delicious." Gawain says before hobbling off to the kitchen.
"My this is a treat. It is so rare that I get to speak with another practitioner of the arcane. Let me make sure everyone is settled and fed then we can talk to your heart's delight. In the meantime, would you care for anything to eat or drink?"
The kobold perks up slightly when Deliah apologizes and asks about the drink. It seems that the tiefling has unknowingly hit a rather sore nerve.
"No harm done. It is... irksome to be treated like a pet when people should know better. As for the drink, it is a spiced cider of my own recipe. Gawain, the owner of the Hobbled Hobbit was kind enough to teach me the recipe when I first started. I am proud to say that I have improved on it since then."
It can be difficult to tell with most races, but Kark's cheeks darken in a blush as he realizes his misstep.
"Um, well... anyway, I am at your service if need be. A room and two meals are only a few silver. There aren't many people here at the moment, so I can give you the finest I have."
Wilhelm turns to Helena when he's dismissed.
Feel free to RP some if you want. I'll be moving the game forward on Thursday or Friday.
Björn and Skäne:
The townsfolk make sure to stay well away from the two Kaldrnordmann as they make their way to the Snow Dragon's Den.
The inn is easy enough to find. An elaborate sign hangs above the stout door showing a white-scaled dragon sleeping in a snow filled cave. Inside, the furnishings are on the plain side, but are well kept and the common room is cozy enough. A warm fire crackles at one end of the room. At on of the tables sits a strangely dressed young woman. There is, however, a stranger sight greeting the pair. A white-scaled kobold grumbling as he heads back to the counter at the back of the room. His demeanor quickly changes as he notices the two newcomers.
"Ah! Welcome friends! This is the Snow Dragon's Den, and I am the owner, Kark Icetooth. What can I do for you two gentlemen?"
The Hobbled Hobbit is easy enough to find. After she passes an inn with a sign depicting a sleeping white dragon, Rayla comes upon another, this one with a heavy oak sign that has an image of a hafling on a crutch with a mug of ale in one hand and mischievous grin on his face. Inside is a room filled with furniture polished by age, and more than a brawl or two from the looks of it. Inside are a few people scattered about. The quiet is almost instantly broken by a rowdy chorus.
"HEYO! The ale's a-flowin' an' the Hobbit's doin' fine!"
An aged halfling on a crutch hobbles from where he was chatting to the front door.
"'Ello, miss. Welcome to tha 'Obbled 'Obbit. As ye can see, I'm Gawain E'ersteady, the said 'obbit. What'll be lass? Some ale, some stew, an' maybe a room, too?"
The Snow Dragon's Den is easy enough to find. An elaborate sign hangs above the stout door showing a white-scaled dragon sleeping in a snow filled cave. Inside, the furnishings are on the plain side, but are well kept and the common room is cozy enough. A warm fire crackles at one end of the room. There is a strange young woman sitting at one of the tables, as well as two men who would tower over most anyone you can remember. As you enter, a white-scaled kobold scurries forward to greet Kylar.
"Welcome friend. This is the Snow Dragon's Den. I am Kark Icetooth, the owner, How my I help you?"
The drink is crisp, with hints of cinnamon, apple, and some other spices that are more difficult to identify.
When Deliah pats the kobold on the head though, something flashes in his icy-blue eyes.
"Please refrain from doing that. I am a person, not a pet."
The Snow Dragon's Den is easy enough to find. An elaborate sign hangs above the stout door showing a white-scaled dragon sleeping in a snow filled cave. Inside, the furnishings are on the plain side, but are well kept and the common room is cozy enough. A warm fire crackles at one end of the room. Wilhelm lets out a low whistle as he sees the people in the room, a young woman, a half-elf man, and two men that look like they might be giants.
"'Sbeen a long while since I've seen the place this busy." he says, despite the foom being mostly empty.
"Oi, Kark! Ye in here?" He calls out.
A white-scaled kobold steps from behind the counter and hurries to the door, an obvious expression of exasperation on his face.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, I am here, Wilhelm. There's no need to ye-" he comes to a halt as he sees Helena's clouded eyes.
"Oh, um, pardon me. Being a little flustered is no reason to be rude. I am Kark Icetooth, and this is my establishment, the Snow Dragon's Den. If there's anything, anything at all, that you need help with I am more than happy to be at your service."
No worries about real life dragging you down. I'm still getting settled in my new place, though I am fairly well settled at this point.
In reverse order:
You can swap the point out since neither skill has been used.
I think too blurry would work better, and I think having it only be monochrome when darkvision would take effect is fine.
Sorry for the silence. I'll have a post up later today.
Well I thought so until it was pointed out to me that I had missed a major change to a page that we manage for a client. Fortunately the deadline isn't until tomorrow and the change won't take more than an hour, and that's if I get finicky with it.
Björn and Skäne:
The first guard jumps when Björnlets out a bellow. The second one sighs and turns to Skäne.
"'Fraid there's not much call fer soldierin' or raiders. Ale we have in plenty though. Head up the main road, an' ye'll see two inns. One's the Hobbled Hobbit, the other's the Snow Dragon's Den. If ye're short on coin, the Hobbit's the better bet. Ye might want to tell yer friend there to keep it down, though. We hear a shout like that an' the guard will think there's a brawl goin' on."
The first guard goes beet-red while his partner looks up and gives Rayla a smile.
"Well, I have to say that it's not of'en we get such a person as yerself here. It seems ye have Johann here all flustered." he says with a wheezing laugh.
"'Fraid I'm a little too old fer that to work on me though. If yer lookin' fer a place to stay, there's the Hobbled Hobbit and the Snow Dragon's Den on the main road through town. Though if ye have a tale or two, Gawain, at the Hobbit, would be more than happy fer ye to spin a yarn."
The second guard speaks up before the first can further anger the half-elf.
"Fergive the lad, he's a bit dense an' hasn't had proper manners beat into his thick skull yet. There's two inns if yer lookin' fer a bed to sleep in, both n the main road through town. The Hobbled Hobbit an' the Snow Dragon's Den. I hear that the owner o' the Snow Dragon is also a wizard, perhaps he'd be willin' to swap spells with ye?"
The Snow Dragon's Den is easy enough to find. An elaborate sign hangs above the stout door showing a white-scaled dragon sleeping in a snow filled cave. Inside, the furnishings are on the plain side, but are well kept and the common room is cozy enough. A warm fire crackles at one end of the room. Oddly enough, there's no one sitting at the tables.
Shortly after you arrive, a white-scaled kobold scurries from behind the counter.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome! My name is Kark and this is the finest inn Hammenholdt. Would you care for anything? We have the best selection of fruits, dishes, and wines."
A few minutes after ordering a bowl of stew and warming up, the Kobold returns, carrying a tray with bread, stew, and a mug of something steaming.
"Please enjoy, miss. Let Kark know if there's anything else that you would like. I also fixed you a warm drink. From your dress, I can tell you are not used to the colder climes. Please, let me know how you like it."
"Wilhelm, ma'am. I'm happy to help in any way I can. " He says as he helps Helena to the gate. There is another guard standing beside the gate, and he appears to be glaring at the second guard.
"Johann, Alfin, ye two have the gate 'til I get back. Alfin's in charge."
A third voice comes beyond the gate. "Right, I'll make sure Johann stays out of trouble."
Another guard appears as he slips through the gate before opening it wider to let Helena and Wilhem through. Once on the other side, it closes with a bang and Wilhelm turns to Helena.
"So, milady, where to?"
Where I work, conversations heading south is at least a weekly occurrence. It normally happens during staff meetings on Fridays. Same thing with my family.
I am the only grandson of four grandkids on my mother's side of the family. That also happens to be the side of the family that has men outnumbered by women on a 1 to 2 ratio when all the guys show up and only half the women. Conversations have an unfortunate habit of going into topics that I would have been happier never knowing anything about.
Björn and Skäne:
"Aren't yer kind raiders? How do we know that ye two aren't here as scouts." The first guard asks.
"Maybe because we're a thousand leagues from what anyone in their right mind would call a sea?" mutters the second.
"Devilhunter? Does that mean that devils are after ye?"
The other guard smacks his forehead, and a curse muffled by distance and his hand can be heard.
"What kind of employment? We don't have call for wizards here." the first guard replies. The second just shakes his head, obviously trying to be patient with the younger man.
The second guard turns to the first and says, "Easy, Johann, can't ye see the poor lass is freezin'?"
He turns to Deliah and gives her a smile.
The guard opens the gate just enough to let you through, oblivious to the scowl that is on his partner's face.
"If ye're blind, then how did you make it through the forest?" The man calls out again.
"Shelyn's arse boy, are ye really gonna do this every damned time?!" a second man says. A few moments later, a man dressed in hard leathers and a worn tabard comes into view.
"Fergive the lad. He means well, but doesn't understand that though some are cursed, they are also blessed. There are two inns, the Hobbled Hobbit and the Snow Dragon's Den. I've heard travelers say the Snow Dragon is the finer of the two." He offers an arm to help Helena to the gate.
"Will ye be wantin' help to get to the inn?" the second guard asks.
Björn and Skäne:
There was mention of Kaldrnord in the last town you passed. What you heard lead you on a week-long trek through the forest that was spoken of only in whispers. If the stories are true, then fey, hags, and worse lurk under the dark branches of it's great oaks and pines. Each day brings the same, trees, darkness, and mind-numbing boredom.
Suddenly, a clearing appears after a bend in the path. Frost-capped mountains lie to the north, looming over the small hills where a small town lies nestled in a valley formed by a stream that runs swiftly on to what ever river it joins.
The day grows late as you approach the town gates. The guards are tense, always watching the path, and all who travel on it. Before you can make it with in fifty feet of the gates, you hear a shout.
"Hold! State yer name an' purpose."
Work had become scarce. Many of the guards you had meet at the last town were looking for work, and it seemed that those that found it were all heading south. Someone suggested heading to Hammenholdt and looking there. With winter approaching, there should be a caravan or two in need of guards.
After a week of travel through the mind-numbing sameness of the forest you find a small town nestled in a valley between two hills. To the north lie the frost-capped mountains of the Draketooth Range. As you approach the town gates, two tense, and flustered, guards come into view. One of them calls out to you.
"Hold! State yer name an' purpose."
After a week travelling in the forest, you finally come to an outpost of civilization. Hammenholdt lies before you in a small valley between two hills. The Draketooth Range lies to the north and there's a cold nip in the air as winter approaches.
As you approach the gates, two guards come to attention. One of them calls out to you.
"Hold! State yer name an' purpose."
A chill wind meets you as you spot the town of Hammenholdt. Even though winter has not yet come, it is still colder than any weather in Swamp of Fell Lovers ever was. To the north lies a range of frost-capped mountains. Before you is a valley that contains a small town with a swift stream running through it.
As you approach, two guards eye you warily. One of them calls out to you.
"Hold! State yer name an' purpose"
Something keeps whispering to you to head north. Your travels have lead to a small village called Hammenholdt. The rumors from the last town are that the place has been cursed. All who travel the roads go missing, and things have gotten bad enough for Count Vinelander to send a score of soldiers to help.
Before you can even see the town gates, though, a voice calls out to you.
"Hold! State yer' name an' purpose."
And so it begins. I know it's a little annoying, but I'll be responding in spoilers for now. Don't worry, we'll all be on the same page soon.
Alrighty! Thank you for your submissions. I really liked what you guys came up with. So, without further ado, let's get down to business.
I will be busy this weekend moving, and as a result, I won't be starting the game until next week. The good news, however, is that you can spend this weekend getting things nailed down more. I know El Ronza's character isn't finished, but I like the country was submitted and I'm already getting all sorts of evil ideas.
Speaking of ideas, this little world of ours needs a name, and I was thinking about letting ya'll pick it. I have a lay of the land, so to speak, in my head, but if you want to work with each other and place your homes where you see fit, then go for it. Just make sure I know because I want to make a map after we get that squared away.
And in the interest of fairness, I'm going to post my answers to the questionnaire here.
1. How long have you been playing RPGs? What got you started?
Since April of 2011. I'd been wanting to try out DnD since high school, but that's when I went to my first gaming session at a local game shop.
2. What is your favorite character from fiction (This can include characters from modules and APs)?
3. What is your favorite character that you have created?
4. What makes your
5. What do
6. What is your favorite color?
I'll do my best to answer any questions, but I may not be able to over the weekend.
24 hours until submissions close. Every one will have 48 hours to polish their submissions after that. I'll announce the people who made it a day or two later.
Please, if you have not done so, post everything that is in this thread in one post. This will help me get through things more quickly and you have everything in a nice convenient place. Thank you all for your interest and I look forward to playing with you guys soon.
@ 180: Oops, two traits, just change the fluff as needed.
@ Rayla: Angelkin is fine, you don't have to be limited to just one area, but I think coming up with three countries is going just a mite bit overboard. (Don't let that stop you though.)
Just a reminder, Submissions close on Sunday. I'm going to give you guys 48 hours to polish off the rough edges then I'll announce who's in on Wednesday.
@ James Kondolow: You can use them as inspiration, but the world is one that I am going to stitch together from what you guys come up with, so it helps if it only has ties to places that other people applying come up with (Or the places I've named in the intro.) Think of it as collaborative world building.