It is dark and stormy tonight in Oakhurst, not unusual for this time of year. That strange part of fall right before the last leaves fall and the first snow comes in. The rain beats heavily upon the roof of the Cheerful Tortoise as the wind drives the trees outside to create crazy dancing shadows across the windows.
As you enter the tavern and shake off the rain and grim of the road, you can immediately hear a loud argument taking place at the bar. Two elderly men, who are clearly roaring drunk, sit at the bar, yammering and shouting at the portly barkeep, Max Peppermill.
"Ehm tellin' ya, Max! Just think 'bout it! Nobodies been in that place fer years! Not since I were a boy! Nobody even talks about the ol' citadel anymore, and we haven't had any trouble on the old road since! I bet there's still all kinds of treasure in that place, by golly! And I bet nothin' too nasty could be in there, otherwise we'd a had trouble on the road, I tell ya what! Boy, if I were twenty years younger..."
He carries on about being a young lad and slaying monsters and slaying the ladies and stuff like that for quite a while. Here and there Max interjects that he's a crazy old man, and "shut up, dad, you're drunk".
Upon noticing you standing in the entryway, he finds the perfect opportunity to get out of a conversation he is clearly annoyed with.
"Ho, strangers! Shut the door, come on in, have an ale! Awful weather tonight innit? What brings you to Oakhurst at this hour?"
The scarlet haired woman clad in ebon scale mail and an ornate horned helm is pale as the grave, though it is difficult to tell by firelight whether by nature or aided by cosmetic. Caparisoned for war, as evidenced by the swords, spear and buckler strapped variously to her short, spare frame Naia shakes off the rain. Eyeing the two unfortunate wretches at the bar she answers crisply and without humor.
"The usual thing. Slaying and wenching." She cast an appraising eye around the Cheerful Tortoise, and noting the distinct lack of "talent" continues:
"Any slaying to be had?" she smiles quickly, but the mirth in her mouth does not reach her eyes.
Max turns to the intimidating woman:
"you ain't from around here, is you? We havnt had no slaying needing done here in about fifty years! Not since my pop was younger than me. Some good heroes came and then vanished into the sunset, leving behind decades of peace and prosperity here in oakhurst! Not that we don't get the occasional vagrant or ruffian through.. But let me tell ya, we do have some of the finest Dwarven whiskey for miles!"
Naia favors Max with a poite smile, if perhaps a little too saccharine. She doffs her helm, taking a moment to stow it and her gear. Shaking out her luxurious mane of red hair she turns to Max again.
"Thank you but I'll neglect your liquor." Here Naia eyes the elder drunks as a cat might consider the insignificance of a cricket.
"Becoming more stupid and perceiving humor where there is none is not on my agenda. A little water, and whatever passes for meat if you will."
Miserable weather, miserable society sending me out this way…last time I wind up indebted to those fools.
Rameth finishes grousing as he bursts through the door, slamming it shut. He squeegees his hand over his bald head and the beads of water run off. He mutters as a moment as he fumbles about.
He is a compact, but powerfully built man, there are two knives visible in his boots, and he takes a moment putting a knife from his hand back up his sleeve
Local to see what I know about what they are talking about
Treasure, where? What are you going on about old man?
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Opening the door and giving Rameth a look of irritation for having the door slammed in his face, he waits a moment while the other enter behind him before closing the door once more.
While he waits, he studies the room for additional points of egress and shadows that may hide others.
Satisfied with the tavern, he walks over to the fire and removes some of this outer gear so that it may start to dry.
With his cloak and backpack removed, you see his scalemail and shield both bear the holy symbol of Iomedae and are in very good condition.
He stands just over 6 feet with a solid build and short brown hair that seems to have a metal sheen. He has a distinctive air of control and efficiency of movement as his sets out this gear.
After ensuring is gear is properly placed and stowed, he turns to the inn keep,"Roland de Ridonport, at your service. My goddess has lead me to Oakhurst, for some deed she has seen fit to challenge my skills and resolve against."
"My companions and I seek a hot meal, a dry place to wait out this storm, and the company and tales of your locals."
"Nice armor." Naia appears next to Roland and holds her hands out toward the fire.
"We have not had the pleasure, Roland, though it seems these others are your companions (here indicates Rameth and other PC's with a jut of her sharp chin). Darque Naia. A hunter, after a fashion, recently out of Magnimar."
Max busies himself getting naia her ice cold water, and everyone a hot bowl of potatoes mushrooms and the tenderest chunks of beef you have ever had the pleasure to taste. Every now and again he pops over to the large fire place and throws a few more logs on.
The old man turns to Rameth with a twinkle in his eye.
"ah, well surely you've heard of the heroes of the sunless citadel? Nigh on fifty years ago they road I to town and killed the evil Druid belak and stopped him from using the evil powers of the gulthias tree! Every since they cleared out those ruins, we've had an easy life here! No more raids on the old road! I was only a lad then but I remember them heroes! Now if anything I could remember their names...
The other elder gentleman pipes up:
"aw Larry quit over embellishing. Fella, the point is there's a whole ancient ruin that noones been in for 50 years and noone has seen or heard of any trouble from there at all! With the money that came in from the old road being open again, we've been able to set up a small militia and te roads been safe and sound ever since! What I'm sayin, is the potential treasure trove of a lifetime, just sittin there waiting to be picked up."
I see. Rameth replies to the old man
At Roland's pronouncement and Darque's reply I have never seen either of you before. I suspect this one he points to Roland is just one of those friendly types.
As to myself I am to see what I can learn about these ruins, it would appear that the time for this is right.
A young man bride and shoulder with shaggy dark hair and the tan of one who has spent days and nights outdoors enters the tavern. The smell of stew immediately get his stomach growling.
The man swing back his cape to reveal some fine armor underneath looks around tohe room at the many colorful characters but then moves to the bar swiftly and orders.
"One of what she is having. And strong drink.!" with she he is referring to the red headed lady next to him whom he now notices fully and studies perhaps a bit too carefully as he waits for his dinner.
[ooc]no worries, Alex. You're all just hanging out at the bar anyways ;p[ooc]
As the night grows on, the local late night rabble begins to wander in, and the place quickly begins to get crowded. Several beautiful varisian women begin to dance in the corner as a charmin looking half-elf plays a manodlin. Apparently the town has quite the nightlife. The rumors are certainly true, oakhurst is far from the little town it once was an is now a bustling city.
How about some perception checks.
The young Shoanti warrior turns from the hot Varisian redhead to the hot varisian Dancers wearing little clothes. He very much approves of this and looks over the bar angrily as his stomach is still growling.
Naia watches the writhing forms of her fellow Varisian dancers appreciatively, admiring not just the forms of the dances but the forms of the dancers - elegance in motion, discipline on display. Studiously ignoring the rough Shoanti, Naia nevertheless keeps a careful eye on proceedings within the Cheerful Tortoise.
Max hustles over to the Shoanti with a hefty bowl of hot stew, some bread, and a flaggon of the house ale. An old dwarf named Gnarled Hammerfist prides himself on brewing the best ale in all Varissia (at least hell tell you so).
The tribesman's keen hearing picks up an interesting conversation at a nearby table. A young scraggly looking couple is fevertly talking to their friends:
"bro, me an Shelly were up at skinner's bluff, checking out the stars and stuff, you know. And like, all of a sudden, this whole constellation just, like, disappears man. Totally wild! And then this wicked storm starts blowing through! Like, we barely made it back home it was pouring so hard!"
Kogam takes a deep drink from his mug and nods appreciatively. Then begins to chow down on his stew which is probably the best meal he has tasted in months. While watching the sparsely clad dancers with apparent appreciation.
Stars dissapearing from the sky... an ill omen. the man mutters between bites.
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Roland enjoys his hearty stew and ale, but stops his meal whenever someone bumps into his drying gear. He leans over and repositions it back to it's original drying position.
He tries to keep track of the goings on in the Cheerful Tortise, but the fast pace of the crowd and the many conversations seems to distract him.
Ealasaid enters the tavern visibly irritated. She grumpily removes some of her clothes and uncarefully put them to dry near her. She untie the knots of her braid releasing he long golder hair that looks wet and dirty.
She ask for Ale and food and start to drink and eat without caring too about what happens in the tavern, except for the people that for some reason or another aproach her.
percep
Rameth watches the gyrations of the women, and observes the new comer.
Don't usually see so many women warriors…
Everyone settles in, drinking and chatting and enjoying being dry. One of the dancers takes an interest in korag's gaze, and wanders over to give him a little better an closer view. The half elf bard looks displeased with this.
There is a sudden commotion outside, that few inside but the elf notice, her keen ears picking up shouts from outside in the rain. Suddenly, the doors fly open and a long haired man wearing old leather armor stumbles into the doorway, and subsequently falls flat on his face. The more observant of you notice several black darts sticking out of his back.
Rameth swears and quickly downs a Shield extract, and moves to the door and draws a sharpened dagger.
He peers out and sees what he can see
perception
The more observant of you notice several black darts sticking out of his back.
Ealasaid grumbles, Am I comndemned to never get a decent rest? - she thinks.
The woman retrieves her heavy flail and goes to the door ignoring for now the injured man.
is there any sign of a danger nearby?
@Ealastead: ok, Sorry I guess that was pretty vague.
specifically you and rameth notice the black darts and immediately recognize them as being of dark elven make. But anyone who hits a dc 15 perception check sees this.
No immediate signs of danger outside. Asking amongst the few folk who saw the man approach the Cheerful Tortoise claim they saw him running at high speed from down the old road, looked like he'd been running a while.
At first you think this man is dead, but it quickly becomes clear he is just unconscious. He doesn't wake when pushed or shaken.
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Roland quickly glances at the injured man and when to the rest of the crowd in the tavern.
"Don't look to me to check on him... I was told they needed a Faceman out this way."
After a moments pause...
"Fine, let me check on him."
Roland goes over to check the man on the severity of his injuries.
"He is alive, but under the effects of a poison or spell beyond my means. I beleive it is not contagious. Go back to your food and drink, all will be taken care of."
Roalnd grabs the man by his collar and drags him over to the heat of the fire, to let the man sleep it off.
Naia notices the commotion at the doorway. She sighs. This once-town is now a city, with all the attendant trouble.
Bah. Another footslogger earns his rest.
[EDIT - well, ninja-ed by Roland - ignore this next bit. Seeig as Roland has intervened Naia will remain where she is eating by the fire]
With studied nonchalance she approaches the prone body and checks for a money pouch. If she finds one she takes it.
Drow. Maybe we should take a look outside. Who is coming with me?
Rameth grabs a torch from the wall, or lights one if his own in the fireplace and tosses it outside to illuminate the area.
Ealasaid hear what the bald man said without much interest. She just take her ale and continue drinking. She just prefer to hear what the injured man have to say once he awake.
Naia sighs again. A hero. Her fathers both told her heroes found Pharasma quickest. She watches Roland back Rameth. For no coin. She sits for a minute and decides.
"Max. Take care of Roland's things. Let him (indicates the slumped dartboard) pay for the service. Anyone touches anything and Darque Naia will halve them twice."
She sets off after Roland.
Nothin in town seems out of place, but Roland has the intuition to check the outskirts of the city. Heading out the gate the man apparently ran through, the guards posted are of little help. They certainly saw the guy run into town this way.
Naia takes a look in some nearby foliage a bit down the road. The road itself is covered by thousands of prints, but thanks to the mud and rain it's pretty easier to find the freshest ones.
It seems a some light booted humanoids followed the running man up to about half a mile outta town, stopped, and turned around.
"Quite the strange set of occurrences. Whoever they are they turned tail when they got close to Oakhurst. Do we follow these tracks now to where they originated from, or try to con some more fools into joining us?"
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"Con more fools to join us? That does not seem very trustworthy and honorable. I think we should return and see what we can learn from the poor fellow that was ambushed on the road. He may be awake and have vital information for us."
"Did you by chance see what happened to Rameth? He asked for assitance in this storm, but I have not see him since his request."
"I hope he did not 'Con some fools', as you say, to go back out in this rain."
Naia cannot hide her irritation.
And I thought he might be different.
She shouts into the rain.
"Trust is earned and honor is relative! I'm here with now, you am I not? And for what? To be second guessed. By a god-botherer. So: I must be a fool." Naia pinches her nose, thinking quickly. She scans the wet landscape, blinking out the rain and the indistinct horizon. She turns and faces Roland, looks him in the eye, and bats her pommel against the symbol of Iomedae on his shield.
"Let's get one thing straight Roland. Your god, goddess, whatever - doesn't care a whit if you live or die right now. But I do? Why? I'm not sure. Just think about that. I may be flippant and off-hand, but it has kept me alive these 19 years. Yes, let us return and find some answers."
Meanwhile in the tavern...
Does somebodyknow a healer or soemthing who can help this poor man? - say Ealasaid for everyone to hear.
percep
local +investigator inspiration
Rameth searches carefully for clues
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Roland stares at Darque dumbfounded, unsure what he said to gain her ire. With a quick glance at his shield to see if any of the enamelling was damaged, he follows Darque back to the tavern. He knows of his faith in Iomedae and her trust in him, he is unwaivered in his beliefs.
His thought quickly return to wondering what happened to Rameth after a few paces, the rain having washed away any ill feeling or confusion he may have had about the confrontation.
i just saw him fall. We should prob try to figure out what they wanted with him.
GM - is the human dartboard alive?
Yes he sure is!
Kogam is a bit slower on his heals but heads out to search the neighborhood with the little man.
Survival
Perception
So, while naia, Rameth, and roland are out finding nothing but tracks in the mud, the man in the inn wakes up.
He jerks and flails upon waking, unsure of where he is.
"what... Did I make it to oakhurst? Oh thank the gods! I was with a small trade caravan, bringing a shipment of Mithral from the mountain downs the old road... I don't even know what hit us! All of a sudden we were surrounded in pitch blackness and all I could hear was the sound of my companions dying! All I could do was run for my dear life... I swear they shot me, and I had welcomed my coming death! But here I am, somehow alive!"
Kogam moves to the man's side. Yes you made it. This sounds truly frightening. A killing force of blackend night and disapearing stars... ill omen's indeed.
Definitely not a good thing. Say Ealasaid after hearing the man tale.
I suppose this have never happened before...uhm, can you tell exactly where were you attacked?