DM
Divel:
Reven pulls down an exquisite longbow, elven work from the Great Forest.
"This has got yer name all over it Divel," He says, showing the beautiful weapon to the taciturn elf.
Sndergangs next stop after the Magic Box is the local livery stable where he enquires about mules for sale
Sndergangs next stop after the Magic Box is the local livery stable where he enquires about mules for sale
Stoneroot has an extensive stable complex. Caravans are continually resupplying there, and the local stablemaster has an excellent selection.
In the morning, Svetla heads over to the local temples to purchase 8 potions of cure light wounds. She'll also purchase 5 vials of antitoxin from the temples, if able. If unable, Svetla heads over to the marketplace to buy them.
Divel takes the opportunity to make sure it is sealed and replenish his arrows.
Nevorn spends his time among the rooms at the inn. He rests composes his sonnets and verses about the groups travels thus far.
DM
Bornondon also spends his time in the inn, drinking, eating and sleeping.
In the morning, Svetla heads over to the local temples to purchase 8 potions of cure light wounds. She'll also purchase 5 vials of antitoxin from the temples, if able. If unable, Svetla heads over to the marketplace to buy them.
** spoiler omitted **
Svetla:
Nevorn spends his time among the rooms at the inn. He rests composes his sonnets and verses about the groups travels thus far.
DM** spoiler omitted **
Borondon in mostly too drunk to gather much information.
Horm's Tavern is a rollicking place with many caravan workers, prospectors, mercenaries and adventurers about, looking to climb the Dark Ridge Moutains as the Spring warmth thaws the passes. The common room is filled on a regular basis, and some of the newcomers approach the party looking for advice or work, having heard they returned from the Silent Halls with treasure.
The tall, expensively dressed, woman who saunters towards the group's table at first glance might be a Half-Elf. The angled planes of her features, the delicately swept ears, but something about her form or features seems different. Skewed enough that, with perhaps a knowledge check, it would be noted that she bares no kinship with Divel Divellios.
The nobles clothing she wears, while obviously of rich cut and cloth, leaves her tanned shoulders bare. The short sleeves having barely enough material with which to assist in keeping the dress's top covering her upper torso and leaving almost all of her well toned and muscled arms bare. Long dark burgundy coloured loose skirts flow down to sweep the floor, though as she walks it can be seen that upon her feet are only light sandals. Her long hair flows free down her back, almost to
A wide leather belt that gathers cloth in such a way as to accentuate her slim waist sports a sheathed dagger on one side and a cleverly crafted leather pouch, more a small bag, over her other hip.
"Ladies greeting upon you." She smiles, strong white teeth flashing. "May I join you?" She indicates to a nearby empty chair, then to a space around the edge of the groups table. Awaiting the appellations of those party members assembled within the Inn with a coquettish smile playing upon her lips and a glint of mischief in her strangely coloured eyes.
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"Indeed, how can one of such beauty possibly be denied such a simple request? We would be greatly pleased for one such as yourself, provided of course that our leader agrees"
The man who speaks rises fluidly, his long dark hair reaching a little past the shoulder, his dusky features posses a handsome nobility seldom found in a common tavern. His smile is warm, a slow inviting grin that reached his twinkling grey eyes, a rarity for one of the desert folk.
He guestures to the dwarf at the end of the table, inclining his head as he salaams.
Horm's has a frantic feel to it, with loud laughing and the clink of clay and pewter mugs among the crowded common room.
Horm actually looks happy at the bar, a first for the dour dwarf. His nieces and cousins race among the tables, dispensing refreshments at a breakneck pace.
Navorn having spent way to long from the crowds makes his way to the tavern, he drinks and mingles with the crowed high on life after the ruins of the dwarf hold. Making his way to the table with Merzhan he puts a bottle of wine upon the table.
" Mezhan my friend I see you are well. And who is this lovely vision of beauty you have with you? I my lady am Navorn of silver harp a pleasure to meet you" he says with a bow. Such a lovely lady calls for a song wouldn't you say Merzhan?" He says with a smile then makes himself toward the stage, near the hearth. If it was one thing all inns and taverns had, it was a place to sing.
After clapping his hands to gain attentions Navorn bows."A pleasure to see you all this evening. I am Navorn of silver harp" He says Bringing his Yarting to his hands. "And this evening calls for song wouldn't you say?"
As the he plucked the strings and the music started to fill the room he sung
"A gypsy rover came over the hill
Down through the valley so shady.
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.
Ah-dee-doo-ah-dee-doo-dah-day
Ah-dee-doo-ah-dee-day-dee
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.
She left her father's castle gate.
She left her own fine lover.
She left her servants and her state
To follow her gypsy rover.
She left behind her velvet gown
And shoes of fine leather
They whistled and they sang 'till the green woods rang
As they rode off together
Last night, she slept on a goose feather bed
With silken sheets for cover
Tonight she'll sleep on the cold, cold ground
Beside her gyspy lover
Her father saddled up his fastest stead
And roamed the valley all over.
Sought his daughter at great speed
And the whistlin' gypsy rover.
He came at last to a mansion fine
Down by the river Drandee.
And there was music and there was wine
For the gypsy and his lady.
"Have you forsaken your house and home?
Have you forsaken your baby?
Have you forsaken your husband dear
For a whistling gypsy rover?"
"He is no gypsy, my Father," she cried
"but Lord of these lands all over.
And I shall stay 'til my dying day
with my whistlin' gypsy rover."
The crowd at Horm's whistles and stomps to show their appreciation of Navorn's yarting. Several free drinks make their way to him, and a few folks press a coin or two on him when he finishes.
A dwarf walks into the tavern and sits down at the bar. "Barkeep, I'd like a mug of you're cheapest ale". He's wearing a traveler's outfit and a holy symbol of Torag. He takes off his pack and sets it next to his stool. He keeps an eye on it in case someone tries to steal it.
Divel sets a small wine before the clever bard. "Good Navorn." Then the elf returns to his shadowy corner to watch and listen.
Crystal smiles warmly at Merzhan's welcoming comment. When Navorn makes his introduction Crystal nods her head in thanks towards his compliment as well, though she remains standing as he makes his way to the stage and enacts his performance. Crystal joins in with every one else in the tavern, clapping her hands lightly in time to Navorn's rich and melodic voice as it carries the tune all around the room, swaying slightly and obviously enjoying the performance.
"Bravo, good sir, bravo!" She smiles and extorts the quality of the Bard's voice and song along with every one else in the room's appellations towards the player, shaking her blond mane away from her face, she sighs and brushes some loose locks from her face with the graceful brush of a hand to tuck them behind a delicate ear.
At the appearance of Divel she blinks and a fleeting expression flits across her features, but it's gone as quickly as the Elf back into his shadows.
Catching the attention of one of the Dwarven serving lasses, she bends slightly to whisper something in the girl's ear. The Wench nods glancing towards Navorn as she accepts what ever Crystal presses into her hands, possibly coins perhaps more, before moving of back into the crowded room.
She turns back to those gathered at their table, still slightly flushed from enjoying the music and deftly lifts an empty chair from a nearby table, showing the strength in her limbs as she moves the Dwarven built furniture as well as her dexterity as she easily twirls it into position.
With a graceful sweep of skirts she sits, nodding and smiling thanks to Merzhan as he pushes the chair in for her. With an elegant arch of an eyebrow she looks to those also seated around the table.
"Is the Bard also of your group? Or just an acquaintance here in town?" Seeing the affirmation in some of the others eyes she nods, "I do admit to dabbling in the musical arts, though no where near as talented as your friend," Her lips quirk, "Perhaps he might be interested in sharing the knowledge of his skills?" She asks softly, sounding half distracted as she twists in her seat to look across the room towards the stage, seeming innocently allowing those at the table a glimpse of her bare back highlighted by the low cut of her dress as she again shakes her hair casually.
Turning back towards the group of adventurers before her she clasps her hands before her and begins to properly introduce herself, though the attention some give to the newcomer dwarf as he makes his way in from the dusk to sit at the bar, slows her somewhat.
"My name is Crystal D'glaese. Of late I served in the noble defense of a Holy site," Upon seeing the questions already forming in some people's eyes she shakes her head, spilling blond hair across her face again, which she moves away with a casual sweep of bare arm, "No, no it was but a small place, no more a sort of 'way shrine' than anything as grand as say a Cathedral. My own bearing of arms was far more the mundane, I must admit to not having heard the call of the divine from my Goddess." Her eyes drop as she blushes demurely.
"So, what talents do you offer to bring into the mix?" Crystal looks towards the questioner.
"Ah, well more than I wear here." She shakes her head, a brief cloud of anger darkening her face. "Peace bonding they call it! 'Pffft!' What use paying for a weapon to be put into a state where you can not use it?" Her demeanor brightens again almost immediately.
"Worry not, I have armor, weapons and equipment of my own with which to both protect and serve. I am willing to undergo perhaps a test of arms tomorrow in the militia grounds to show my worth?" There is both a question and challenge in her gaze as she looks to those around her.
"Though I do carry swords, I fear I have no weapons of range. However, if rumor carries any weight, you know the merits and values of what is and is not suitable to the depths of yon Dungeon." Her strange eye's glint in the lamp light as she awaits the parties return comments.
excellent post
The dour dwarf Horm serves a small ale to Lordzak.
"There yeh go, one small ale. A copper if yeh please."
The old dwarf holds out a reddened chapped palm.
Eitri, for that is the dwarf's name, takes his ale and pays a copper. Then he turns his attention to this Crystal D'glaese and those who are speaking to her.
"Did I hear talk of a dungeon? If you people are gathering for some kind of adventure I would like to join you as well. My hammer and holy powers will be of great help on such an expedition I assure you."
Sondergang returns from his shopping trip and enters the common room.He makes his way over to the group and heres the other dwarves comment.
"Aye Brother...we have been to Tharkad Kul...and a sore journey it was too..the halls of our forefathers lie in ruin..will you join me in restoring the glory?"
He turns to the others..
"There's a good bounty for orcs being offered and frankly my friends we need both the experience and the cash..the best thing being that as we get paid by the baron he doesn't tax us on it"
The large potted plant beside your table emits a soft groan.
"Strident dwarf, your ringing tone inspires me to...blaaaaargh"
Some coughing follows, then a head, bootlaces of vomit hanging from each corner of the mouth, pokes through the foliage.
"...inspires me to follow you to the very pits of hell! And you mentioned something about no taxes? 'buurp' On anything?"
With a hopeful look upon his face, the creature climbs out of the pot and sits heavily upon its rim. He stinks of stale beer, vomit, and worse. If you had to bet, you'd say this was an elf, but really...really?
"Aye I'd be very pleased to help you in such an endeavor. And this hunting of orcs seems like a good way to fund this quest. Personally I'm a bit strapped for cash myself presently."
Crystal D'glaese smiles as Sondergang Wulfsson walks up to those also at the table, turning along with the group as Eitri addresses them from hisbar-stool,
"Did I hear talk of a dungeon? If you people are gathering for some kind of adventure I would like to join you as well. My hammer and holy powers will be of great help on such an expedition I assure you."
As Sondergang replies across the noisy tavern room Crystal can't but wince slightly at the Dwarf's volume. Though it's when the figure crawls out of the large planter located near the parties table that Crystal features turn stoic at the sight and scent that wafts past them all.
When Eitri calls back with his affirmation about joining the group, Crystal cannot hide the humor that she feels about something the 'new' Dwarf has said. When Sondergang raises an intimidating blond eyebrow towards her smile that she's attempting to hide behind a hand, Crystal can do no more than await the serving girls arrival to lift one of the mugs and quickly sip at some of the ale there in. She winces, even as she wipes some foam from her top lip with the back of a wrist.
"Forgive me, Sir Dwarf. I mean no offense, but the comments of yon 'freind' had struck a chord with me." Putting the ale mug down, Crystal hands the serving girl some coin and asks for a serving for herself, apologetically pushing her sampled cup towards it's rightful owner.
"I too must admit to wishing to earn more with which to line my pockets." She sighs, "Not that I am short of weight in my coin purse, it's just that the care and feeding of a horse is an expense that does so drain funds at a rather alarming rate." She smiles, hoping her words are a worthy explanation of her reaction. Seeing the expression upon Sondergang's features she hastily adds,
"Perhaps a show of some of my meager talents?" As a sign of better faith?" She asks, then before any one can reply she rises fluidly and with a twirl of skirts, skips across towards the stage. Stepping lightly up onto the platform, her skirts swirling free of her long, bare legs but briefly, she smiles to Navorn as she seats herself beside him. Lifting her voice to carry across the room she says,
"Sadly I have brought no instrument with me this eve good fellows, so I shall attempt to entertain with a tale instead." She briefly clears her throat, accepting the mug the serving lass hands to her, taking a sip and then she proceeds to tell an entertaining tale of adventure,
Upon finishing she sits demurely and awaits the audiences reaction. Though the very close proximity of Navorn may also be an influencing factor as well.
Navorn sits and listens to the tell, putting it away for future use, a bard never had to many tells after all. "Orc hunting you say Sondergang? Well many a fine tell have been told to such tells, And no taxes you say , humm orc hunting in deed!" He smacks his hand on the table "Another bottle ! my friends looks dry. And my lady that was a fine tell you wove, very nicely done"
"Lordzack, it's your lucky day. I am FLUSH with gold at the moment - your drinks are on me!" Rootabega flails his arms in a hopeless attempt to attract the attention of the waitstaff before his attention is diverted by the storyteller. He watches and listens, his jaw hangs open, his only comment the occasional passing of wind.
Borondon, a dirty grim dwarf who has been sitting with his head down in a drunken stupor next to Meerzham, looks up after the story.
"Aye, a fine tale.'
When Navorn calls for another bottle Borondon perks up a little.
"Another pint as well!"
"Borondon is my name." He tells the newcomers, seeming just now to notice them.
*bows* Thank you for the welcome Master of the Dungeon. I shall strive to try and continue to keep my posts up to the standards as befitting your thread.
The crowd listens in rapt fascination as Crystal spins her story of adventure
At the end they erupt in a round of rowdy applause. Another wandering minstrel type with an oboe joins one of the locals with a fiddle and a gnome blatting what looks to be a large brass horn almost her size take the stage once Crystal takes her bows. They begin a lively reel.
A few folks take to the small open area in front of the small stage to dance a bit. Most of the other folk in Horm's tap along and drink deeply. A few drinks along with a few winks come Crystal's way as she rejoins her new friends.
Divel finishes his small wine and stops slowly swirling the glass. He gets up to leave past Sondergang, "see you. Going for information."
Then the elf exits.
He heads for friend to ask about the orc problem and the undead situation in the hills.
Comes back later.
Crystal nods and smiles, acknowledging the appreciation of every one in the tavern. While she makes a show of accepting the proffered drinks, those amongst the group notice that she only drinks the cups of Mead that appear on the table.
After but a short while, with cheeks rosy from the presence of the fine company around her, the good cheer of all the other patrons and pleasant tasting mead she stands, though swaying slightly.
"Well, I must a-bed, if I'm to put on as good a show within the practice yard come the morning as I seem to have done in the tavern here tonight!" She smiles waving to all and then, with a slight wobble in her weaving between tavern staff and patrons, wanders off towards the inn's guest-rooms.
The next morning dawns fresh and crisp. A cool breeze comes off the Dark Ridge Mountains, still clad in snow on their upper reaches. The caravansarai bustles even in the dawn hour with shouting merchants and drovers packing supplies for the trip through the Tharkadian Gap. The party rolls out of bed and avails themselves of the strong dwarvish coffee Horm brews. The scent of sausages, eggs and hashbrowns fill the air as they decide their plan.
Divel makes sure to bring enough arrows, a lantern and 5 flasks of oil and several torches (unlike last time).
Divel makes sure to bring enough arrows, a lantern and 5 flasks of oil and several torches (unlike last time).
Some options:
- A caravan of goods headed for the Great Forest is starting out and needs guards.
- There have been reports of orc raiding parties all along the Tharkadian Gap and the slopes of the Three Brothers
- A caravan of merchants headed into the Gap then south towards the elven port of Aearmîr needs protection.
- A group of settlers is headed to the trading burg of Lumberton on the other side of the Gap, and is looking for protectors.
Over the morning meal Navorn agrees that the party was Ill prepared last time "I myself was naive and I was not the only one. What say we make a list of things needed and use a portion of the group funds or even what we have now to buy needed items? I would be willing to chip in for needed supply if someone would like to make up a list."
After eating his morning meal he picks at his yartan which he often does and ponders.
"We know we have a few options on where to go . S hould we go with the caraven toward the Great Forest or the one toward Aearmir? Should we go toward Lumberton some settlers headed that way of look at raiding around the Tharkadin gap? I myself think Elven wine is mighty fine and elven song is joy. Besides the sea air is nice and orcs never pass a chance to kill elves. "
"Aeamir! It's many a year since I was asked politely never to return. While Elven memories are long, the grudges they bear often wear off more quickly. Sadly, I find I am the opposite and can nurse a hatred long after I can remember the cause. Still, Aeamir! A sewer as I recall, but the journey will be refreshing, and it has all the amenities of a port city.
So I second the handsome human's suggestion: let's raid, ah 'protect' this caravan going to Aeamir."
Crystal saunters into the common room wearing her 'combat' equipment. Her armor, obviously custom made to both protect and suit her figure, shimmers slightly even in the filtered light coming through the taverns windows. At either hip ride rapiers in well tooled leather scabbards, while across her back a long, thin blade is hung. the hilt rearing up over her shoulder like some waiting asp.
"We know we have a few options on where to go . Should we go with the caravan toward the Great Forest or the one toward Aearmir? Should we go toward Lumberton some settlers headed that way of look at raiding around the Tharkadin gap? I myself think Elven wine is mighty fine and elven song is joy. Besides the sea air is nice and orcs never pass a chance to kill elves."
"Aeamir! It's many a year since I was asked politely never to return. While Elven memories are long, the grudges they bear often wear off more quickly. Sadly, I find I am the opposite and can nurse a hatred long after I can remember the cause. Still, Aeamir! A sewer as I recall, but the journey will be refreshing, and it has all the amenities of a port city.
So I second the handsome human's suggestion: let's raid, ah 'protect' this caravan going to Aeamir."
She smiles sitting across from Flanus adjusting the blade across her back as she does so, beside Navorn, indicating for the serving lass to come hither that she might order her break-fast.
"Hmm, some very good ideas Navorn.' She smiles to both men, "I am more than willing to put some of my funds towards a group 'kitty' so as every one can be better equipped fro what ever may come." She stops and whispers softly to the serving lass about her breakfast arraignments, "Now as to where to be adventuring towards?" She sits back, obviously at ease and pondering again the options presented. Her face serious for some moments before again breaking out into a smile.
"I too think the journey towards Aearmîr holds the better options, so count my vote towards that choice. As for money towards a 'kitty', I have a spare hundred or so weight in coin." She finishes calmy, as if such an amount of money were a common place thing to have.
As she takes delivery of her meal she smiles to those around her,
"Now, after breakfast, who's up for a fight?" And a feral glint comes into her eyes.
Um, so a question? We are in Golarion are we not?
Borondon forces down his breakfast in the common room while nursing a horrific hangover. At the mention of a shopping list of supplies, he says:
"Aye, and be sure to bring enough grub. Remember that halfling that didn't bring no food at all on the trip? Har! He ate most o' mine."
As for the decision to escort a merchant caravan to the Elven port, Borondon is fine with it.
"Iv'e not been there myself, sound's good as anything at this point. Guarding merchant's what I did before I came here nohow."
"Now, after breakfast, who's up for a fight?"
"I am. Who we fighting?" Dense as ever, Borondon has no idea Crystal means a sparring match against her.