Summer has come to the Inner Sea. These past three years have scattered your friendships around the Inner Sea, collecting knowledge and experience of the outside world which had been kept from you being raised in The Puddles district of Absalom.
Those who travelled backed to the island-city via conventional means found the voyage a long one. The winds which would normally carry ships across the sea had been stiffled by the oppressive heat, most of the ships limping in doing so either under physical or magical assistance.
The Docks, normally teeming with bodies and activity, is even more so with the ships in port. The alehouses along the harborfront are overflowing with patrons, numerous fights spilling out onto the streets.
Heading west, passing through a set of gates, you come into The Puddles. Moving to the centre of the district, towards the giant lake which has left most of the buildings permanently submerged underwater, you find the ground surprisingly dry. The heat of the summer has evaporated most of the lake, leaving the roadways dry enough to not be wading waist-deep to get to your destination: The Weary Dragon Inn. Where your group parted company 3 years prior.
When you enter, Corda Riss, the half-ogre woman who owns the inn, stands behind the bar, wiping down the polished wood as her two daughters drag an unconscious patron off the bar and out into the street.
Stepping over an unconscious patron Hrotgar takes in the familiar sights.
Apart from the many drunken patrons, everything seems the same. Just like three years ago when he left to once again find some information about his past.
Again ... he was unsuccesfull. But he would not give up ... yet.
Shaking these thoughts from his mind he focuses his mind on the present situation.
Scanning the room for his friends he makes his way into the inn, to Corda at the bar and orders a large mug of ale.
Continuing to search to common room for his friends he drinks his ale. If he does not spot them he patiently waits for them.
Nate shook his head and gave a wry grin as he entered. Some things never changed - the Weary Dragon's more "enthusiastic" customers were still leaving feet-first. Still, the water was shallow enough in this heat that he stood a good chance of waking up soaked and sore, rather than running the risk of drowning.
Hrothgar's tall, muscular form was not hard to miss, even across the crowded taproom, and Nate quickly made his way from the bar through the crowds to meet him.
"Well met, old friend!" he exclaimed. "What tales have you brought back this time to rival my own splendid exploits?"
Nate knew that a challenge, however light-hearted, was often the best way to break past his companion's sometimes dour exterior and set the camaraderie they'd shared in past running free. That, and another mug or two of ale, of course. He was sure Corda would have no trouble in keeping that coming.
The beautiful red-haired woman sat in the corner, quietly nursing her drink. She wanted to be alone although many a potential suitor had sought her company. As politely as she could, the woman would spurn their drunken advances. When civility would not suffice, she would produce the silver holy symbol of Iomedae that she kept hidden around her neck. Once the enamored pursuer glimpsed the sword with the starburst hilt, they would quizzically look at her and then stumble off to find a new conquest.
She was a priestess of Iomedae...but not now. Now...she just wanted to forget. It had been two long years since...
She slowly took a sip of her brandy and gave a quick, slight jerk back and forth with her head. As if she would be able to shake out that horrible memory that haunts her to this day. A dreadful memory that seemed to pervade her every thought. “Better not to dwell on it, I suppose.” She reasoned. “Whats done is done, there is no changing the past.”
She had only been in Absalom for a couple of weeks now and hadn’t really expected to just be able to hit the ground running. Still, it would have been nice. Father Altomir Emeraldagger had been extraordinarily kind to her especially considering her...situation. Taking another sip from her cup she allowed a smile. It was no wonder Father Merrill had suggested the gruff sounding dwarf’s church for a good relocating point. Still, it was unusual to see such kindness coming from such a rough exterior.
"Well met, old friend!" Aleena heard as she looked up to see the roguishly handsome young man standing near her address a new arrival to the Weary Dragon Inn. Looking towards the door, Aleena noticed the rather large man enter the establishment.
As did several other patrons.
The intimidating figure strode purposefully towards the man who addressed him. Two men that had just begun to fist fight after a card game went sour even stopped their brawl to allow the imposing figure passage.
"What tales have you brought back this time to rival my own splendid exploits?" The rake asked the man-mountain as he closed the gap between them. Aleena smiled a wry smile as she again took a sip of her brandy. “This one.” She thought. “This one would be trouble. A true silver-tongued devil if she had ever heard one.”
Not intending to eavesdrop but desperately wanting to get her mind off of her thoughts she focused in on the two men’s conversation.
OOC: WAHOO! Game on! 8P
BTW, I am attempting to catalogue this adventure as we progress. If anyone would be interested in a copy of it when we are done, I would be more than happy to provide it :)
PS: I changed my avatar so as people would not get any ooc post from myself and posts from Nate "Silvertongue" Adams confused :)
OOC Stuff
---------
Got a map set up...nothing fancy... google doc ...so i don't have to upload a new map every time someone moves, or when we get into combat.
You can all place yourselves wherever you like. For a token/miniature, use your first initial, or first two letters of first name, or if your name is small enough to fit, just use that.
Heading out to dinner, but I'll put in some more details later tonight, or tomorrow morning.
The lithe elven woman enters The Weary Dragon, wearing her typical soft leather clothing, that was almost as scant as her modesty. Her face portrayed the nonchalant and almost carefree attitude that she seems to hold on to at nearly all times, as she looks over the tavern. When she stops, she fixes her eyes on a pair of familiar men and strolls over to them.
Coreuth Din'assa keeps to herself as she heads to her intended target, not giving attention to any would-be wooer, but not shunning any such attention, either. "Nate. Hrothgar. How's it going? Will one of you handsome gentlemen buy me a drink?"
"A lady wouldn't ask!" Nate quipped, slipping deftly out of range of a retaliatory blow, and quickly to the bar, in the hope that a goblet of fine red wine would soften the barb a little. Or as fine as the wine got, here in the Puddles at any rate.
"Well," he continued, returning to the table, "that's three. Where are the others? Bad luck to break the circle..."
PS: I changed my avatar so as people would not get any ooc post from myself and posts from Nate "Silvertongue" Adams confused :)
"Clearly, I'm not a lady." Coreuth quite happily accepts the glass of wine.
"I've seen alot and fought even more ... but I cannot tell you anything with a dry mouth ..."
As he is about to order another two mugs of ale, Nate spots Coreuth.
"Ah, Coreuth ... welcome back again."
"Let's wait for everyone to show up, then let's talk about our adventures in the past year."
Hrotgat lets his gaze follow Coreuth's body ... He never knew he had missed that scarcely dressed woman this much ... must be the fact that he hasn't been with a woman for a year ...
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he accepts the ale from Corda.
Dolgrin walks in with the usual 'clangety-clang' of his massive armour, "Well, well. If it ain't my old friends! This is cause for celebration, no? Drinks are on me! Now, what brings you all here?"
"DOLGRIN !"
"You've made it, glad to see you're still alive."
"And the first round of ale is on me."
Hrotgar gives his ale to Dolgrin and claps his om the shoulder ... Then orders another Ale from Corda.
Hey guys.
I'm sorry but my internet connection is broken, so i can't post from home, and i only have limited options from work.
I just wanted to let you know that i might be out for some days, but i'm still with you.
"DOLGRIN !"
"You've made it, glad to see you're still alive."
"And the first round of ale is on me."Hrotgar gives his ale to Dolgrin and claps his om the shoulder ... Then orders another Ale from Corda.
With a hearty laugh, Dolgrin smiles at his companion, "HA! You think that bloody ettin was gonna take me down? Not bloody likely! Though, I thought I was done for sure when those damnable greenskin bastards tore through our village."
He slams the ale down his throat, and continues, "Chopped them down I did.. Ah, I see our other friends are here too."
He slams the ale down his throat, and continues, "Chopped them down I did.. Ah, I see our other friends are here too."
"Ah, Dolgrin, Dolgrin..." Nate rolled his eyes in exaggerated pity. "You approach combat the same way you would felling lumber. Where's the finesse, the artistry, in 'chop, chop, chop'?"
His mocking grin slid effortlessly into one of genuine warmth. "But there's no 'chopper' I'd rather have at my back - it's good to see you again!"
"Good to see you to lad! Seein everyone here sure brings back memories." Dolgrin says as he downs the rest of his ale.
"How've ya been? I'm sure you've got a new tale or two to tell." He chuckles.
The party regroups, just starting to relax, when the sun worming its way through the grime-covered windows goes dim, and a shadow falls over the inn's common room.
Perception checks
DC 0 -- visual
DC 10 -- auditory
DC 15 -- auditory
DC 20 -- visual
DC 25 -- auditory
Hrotgar spots the figures outside and sets down his mug.
Motioning to the others to be silent, he points at the windows.
"Trouble is brewing ... I think we're about to have visitors."
"Someone really wants to capture this person if the whole city guard is outside ... I heard something about a cleric ... of Iomedae."
Perception (visual)
Perception (auditory)
"Seems you're right. Let's go see what all the commotion is about." Dolgrin says as he heads out toward the commotion.
Perception (auditory):
Perception (visual):
Coreuth sighs. She never had a cooperative relationship with the guard. Taking one last sip of wine, she skirts over to the curtains on the side of the bar and hides herself among them.
Stealth:
Nate sighed to himself. "I've barely been back long enough to finish an ale," he thought, "and already trouble's come looking. Well, they may be looking for me, but it's not me they'll find..."
Tugging on the brim of his hat, he let the magic wash over him, adding flabby jowls, an extra chin or two, and a day or more's stubble, and replacing his well-oiled leather jerkin with a grimy ale-stained shirt stretched over a pot-belly.
Winking at his companions as they made they own preparations, he leant back in his chair, picked up his ale once more, and watched the door over the top of his mug. Already his mind was gathering a few inspirational lines, ready on his lips should he need them.
Thoroughly enjoying the sights and sounds of four old friends meeting up once again, Aleena is almost successful in forgetting about her recent troubles.
Almost.
She is momentarilly distracted by the figures outside the window which unexpectedly cast a gloom across the Inn. The clanking of armor and a voice barking orders sounded like the local constables coming to arrest some ne'er-do-well in the establishment. Typical fare, really. However, when she hears the large barabrian...("Hrothgar, I believe they called him...")say "Cleric of Iomede", she immediately takes a vested interest in the goings on outside.
"That's impossible!" She thinks to herself. "No one but Father Merrill and Father Altomir know I am in Absalom, let alone know about..."A unbidden tear wells up in the corners of her eyes as she remembers Blackjack Tarr. "Oh, Iomedae!" Aleena begins to silently pray as she closes her eyes for just a moment in respect to her deity."Give me the wisdom to prevail through whatever circumstance you have sent to me!"
Opening her eyes again, she focuses in on the four companions and the drama about to unfold...
Hrotgar smiles at Nate's disguise and follows Dolgrin, muttering to himself.
"Damnnation, I've been in town less then an hour ... and trouble found me ... us."
As Dolgrin approaches the entrance, it opened wide, the latch shattering under the brute force of a city guard bashing it inward. A tall human steps inside from out of the midday heat. Scanning the crowd, his eyes fall on Aleena for a moment, then he steps aside, allowing a trio to enter: a human female soldier, a black-robed male with tattoos adorning his shaved head, and a female halfling sporting a topknot.
The robed man steps forward, "Lazarnid, a cleric of Iomedae has been seen here in recent days. Do any of you know him?"
The guard leans over to whisper something to the robed man, pointing out Aleena. The small group starts across the common room, zeroing in on Aleena, while city guards block the entrance.
Dolgrin walks up to the robed man and says, "Can't say I've ever heard of 'im." He nods, "To what do we owe the honour? Is this man a fugitive of sorts? And what crimes is he charged with?" He notices the new group going for Aleena, and glances to Hrothgar before returning his attention to the robed man, "And what business have you with her? I hope, for your sake, you have papers for whatever it is you think you're going to do."
The robed man steps forward, "Lazarnid, a cleric of Iomedae has been seen here in recent days. Do any of you know him?"
Knowledge: Arcana +5
Knowledge: Nobility +5
Knowledge: Planes +5
Knowledge: Religion +5
Hrotgar backs up Dolgrin with his presence.
Arms folded across his chest.
The robed man nearly trips over Dolgrin, regains his footing, and stops his progress across the room only when Hrothgar steps in the way.
"Papers? Look around you dwarf...we don't plan on arresting anyone." Sizing up Hrothgar, the barbarian sees flames flicker behind the robed man's eyes, which quickly die out. "It would be in your best interest not to delay us."
Aleena
Coreuth peers out from behind the curtains, looking over the group barging there way into the tavern.
Knowledge (local): 1d20+8 to try to recognize any of them.
You recognize the black-robed man: Omdar Gauthfellow. The family has a long history of dark magic.
There is nothing recognizable about the human female or the halfling.
The former lady of the night walks out from behind the curtains and approaches the mage. "Charming, no one here knows who you're talking about. Why don't you just let us drink and you and your fellows can be on your merry way, out the door?"
Diplomacy:
The former lady of the night walks out from behind the curtains and approaches the mage. "Charming, no one here knows who you're talking about. Why don't you just let us drink and you and your fellows can be on your merry way, out the door?"
Diplomacy: 1d20+19
He stops and turns to Coreuth. "A shame such beauty is wasted in the Puddles." Stepping away from his two companions, he joins Coreuth near the bar. "Perhaps a visit to my family's estate later?"
His companions seem unwilling to stop, but do not advance any closer to Aleena.
Now that he's separated from his companions, Coreuth attempts to keep it that way while her ol' adventuring buddies negotiate with the others of the guard. "Maybe if your friends are take it easy on my friends, I'd be inclined to pay you a visit at your estate."
Bluff:
"Buy me a drink?" Coreuth requests of the mage.
Diplomacy:
"Hmmphf" Dolgrin grunts as he notices Coreuth working her silver-tongue magic on the robed man. He turns toward the group of men eyeing Aleena and begins to work his way to her aid.
Not quite ready to reveal herself, Aleena is choosing to hold back from her actions. She is waiting to see what these companions can do to defuse a potential volatile situation. She is also aware that a needless fight here in the Inn would potentially jeopardize innocent lives.
"Ah, if only there were more time," Omdar says, turning and nodding to one of the guards who comes over to the bar. "A drink for the lady, and any who are with her," the mage announces.
"I would join you, if only to stay out of the heat, but I have business with the young cleric..." Turning in Aleena's direction. "...and a rather stout dwarf it would appear."
Omdar hands Coreuth an obsidian ring, with what appears to be a spectre floating about the internal structure of the ring. "Wear this when the guards question you at the manor. They will allow you access.
The female warrior clenches her sword hilt, her knuckles white with, as she watches Omdar. The halfling stands idly, her eyes darting from patron to patron as she chews on bits of hair which have fallen out of her topknot.
Whoever these people were, and whatever they wanted, they did at least seem willing to talk. Perhaps Coreuth had the right idea. A fight in this crowded bar was only going to get a lot of innocent people hurt, or killed. Life was cheap in the Puddles, but Nate had no intention of lowering the price further.
If talk it was going to be, a helping hand wouldn't go amiss. He made a brief gesture across his face under the shadow of his hat, and prepared to lie until his 'silver' tongue turned black, if needs be....
Hrotgar leaves the talking to the others ... vocal persuasion is not his strongest point.
He will at any point in time grab his weapon and defend Dolgrin if needed.
Coreuth takes the ring and pockets it. "OK, but you gotta be good..."
"Aye, what business have you with the lass?" are the only words Dolgrin can seem to muster given the predicament they're currently in.
Omdar turns to the companions. "Ah, your friends." Waving the guards back, the common room clears of the city guards. "This is a common breeding ground for enemies of the city. Spies had informed us of clerics frequenting this establishment."
Picking up and smelling a mug of ale, only to place it back down with a screwed face, he turns to the dwarf, [b]"I mean her no harm, just a few minutes of her time."[/]
"Ah, simple misunderstandin' then. Nothing more than friends enjoyin yer finest ale here." Dolgin says simply, contemplating the idea of treating Omdar and his mem to a round of ale.
Coreuth waits to hear what the redhead has to say.
As quietly and discretely as possible, Aleena is going to attempt to cast the spell Discern Lies.