jumps up offering to help the monk up
"hey im sorry for falling on you so dont hurt me, then looks up at the tree ugly little buggers arent they"
OI HAK LET'S SHAKE THIS ONE TOO!
Darnek edges back slowly making his way into the forest away from the idiot ranger and mage.
looks back at the ranger
"sorry for this but you are weak"
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looks back at the ranger
"sorry for this but you are weak"
Several bolts of magical energy strike ranger in the face, which swells with the chaotic ether of the spell. He lets out a startled scream, which is abruptly cut off as his skull detonates in a particularly gruesome fashion.
Chunky bits of Ranger rain down all around, when suddenly the pack of ravenous mole rats descend on the lifeless body. In what seems like an instant, they have picked the body clean, down to the bone, and each let out surprisingly large burps.
Darnek continues to move AWAY from the fighting, waiting in what he hopes is a safe spot.
moves slowly away from the dead ranger
"wow they where hungry i just hope they are full"
Suddenly, a loud bang jerks you all from your drunken stupor. You find yourself back in the Sultry Strumpet, still at the tables you passed out at the night before, and with ale-mugs still in hand.
holy crap my head hurts. What the heck just happened?
looks up
"wow i had the strangest dream"
Good morn chaps, I had the strangest dream. I dreamt I was an unbiased hooligan with a penchant for ....hurting people. Oi what a nightmare.
"mine i was chased by naked mole rats and you where beating the ranger with Hak"
The sun sits high in the sky as the fire rages in the forest behind you. Thick plumes of smoke rise into the otherwise cloudless sky.
It's a beautiful day for a forest fire, and your spirits are high as you set off down the road towards new horizons. You are tempted briefly to return to Halfriver and salvage any loot you can, but it has become apparent that very little would conceivably remain. Littler still that would be of any value.
You head instead for the port town of Five-Fingers, a seedy place known for its reputation as a den of debauchery and misconduct. Sounds like your kinda place!
"well monk with the forest all burnt down it shouldnt be hard to find the bandits, hahahaha"
Darnek looks over the road. Oi, might as well head to a new town. Bloody Ranjah bout got us killled. HEY HAK, ready for a new smashie place?
" A new town and a new problem, i like"
After hours of seemingly endless trudging, you arrive at the bustling city of Corvis, dubiously nicknamed the "City of Ghosts" by locals. Corvis is a very large, bustling town divided in two halves by the massive shores of the Black River, and is home to a large and still-growing population of at least 10,000 people.
You arrive in town at around noontime, and the city is a chaotic mishmash of life. Merchants mill about hawking wares, some quality, some questionable. Citizens wander from place to place, some on errands or daily work activities, others are simply travelers exploring what the city has to offer. The shouts of men and loud bellowing of shiphorns fill the air from the Docks, and armed guards march down city streets, followed by massive steel behemoths known as Warjacks.
Your lively band of vagrants doesn't even warrant a second glance to these people, which is a refreshing change from the paranoid stares of Halfriver.
Let's find the pub eh?
Darnek appears to look for the pub.
"monk go on ahead, im going to just look around for awhile and i will catch up later"
goes looking around for a church" i best pray to my goddess that the ranger gets a spot in hell"
You enter the city via the Northwestern Gate, which lies just to the west of the river. Towering spires of marble rise into the sky, each with a distinct glimmer of gold at the very tips. Banners roll lazily in the wind, each bearing the distinctive gold-on-blue heraldry of Cygnar.
Darnek and Raistlin separate for a time to seek out individual goals within the city.
Darnek, the first tavern you discover is a rather run-down, weary looking establishment bearing the sign of a scantily-clad, but menacing woman ensorcelling a tankard of frothy ale. "The Witches' Brew" can be seen clearly below.
Raistlin seeks out the more disreputable areas of Corvis in hope of finding an indication of some secret sect or cult to his dark Goddess, Thamar. Unfortunately, after about an hour of looking, he is unable to discover any clues that might hint to such a cabal.
I Go inside of the pub, seeking a table and sitting down, planning to order some ale when the maid comes around. I keep my ears perked to listen for anything interesting, or any brawl which may start.
goes into the church and seeks out the priest
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Darnek: The Witches' Brew is not so much a "seedy" establishment as it is a "dead" one. The building that houses it looks old and decrepit, as though it has not seen any reasonable upkeep in years. The floorboards creak and groan under your steps, and the air has a dusty, stale scent to it. Only about four of it's eight tables look usable, the rest being in various states of disrepair. A few are even turned over on their sides, legs broken and tabletops splintered. Five, weary, life-worn looking men sit nursing drinks, three at the table furthest from the door, the other two at the bar. The atmosphere has a very oppressive melancholy to it, as though everyone here has generally given up on life. The tavernmaster glances up at you as you enter, and gives you a halfhearted nod, but otherwise says nothing. The rest do not even bother a glance in your direction, but stare listlessly into their drinks.
Raistlin: You pass by numerous tiny street-corner chapels to various gods, but the primary center of your attention is the massive chapel of Morrow, god of truth, virtue and justice, and twin brother of your own goddess Thamar. Its glittering white walls look pristine in this otherwise dirty city, and Cygnarian banners wave proudly from its pinnacles.
enters the chapel of Morrow seeking out the preist
"man i hate this place"
What the devil is wif all the low faces.
Darnek addresses the closest tavern patron.
Cheer up lad, whatcha got to be so gloomy about? OI
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Darnek: The patron sighs, glancing at you from his beer, but trying hard not to make eye-contact. "What's not to be gloomy about? Murders! Witches! Hexes! Disappearing bodies! The bloody walking dead! The very wrath of the Gods is upon us, and there's not a damn thing we can do about it!!"
Raistlin: You enter the Church and immediately upon crossing the threshold, an intense feeling of nausea washes over you. Too much goodness and purity in one place for your liking... An elderly man with graying hair is giving a speech at a podium to your east. It seems you have stepped into the middle of afternoon mass. A few heads turn and give you irritated scowls as the door creaks shut behind you.
"Boy i feel light headed i need to sit down for a minute"
walks over to a row of seats and sits down
Oi wots this bout curses and livin dead? YE CANT BE LIVIN AND DEAD AT THE SAME TIME BLOKE IT DUN WORK LIKE THAT!
Darnek is now the supreme overlord of all things living. Destroyer of worlds! and owner of the largest harem this side of Darkhollow!
Darnek is now the supreme overlord of all things living. Destroyer of worlds! and owner of the largest harem this side of Darkhollow!
That's right. You win all of D&D!