A gruff young man, Raymond often has his right hand tied behind his back, and jokes that this puts him on a level with those around him. In truth, Raymond is generally depressed and quick to anger, and he finds making "friends" tiring. He does work well in a group, however, and finds adventuring parties just the right amount of intimacy.
Raymond wears a well-made set of studded leather armor, and his main weapon is obviously the gorgeously-forged rapier at his side in a mismatched but also well-wrought scabbard.
"So, what's the assignment today, gents?" He says to his allies, all of whom he's met and worked with before, though he wouldn't say he's "friendly" with any of them.
A tall, lean man in his late 20s. Well dressed, he wears an overcoat and wide brimmed hat. At first glance, he looks like any other merchant or lower noble, but on closer inspection, pouches and sashes line his belt and the insides of his overcoat.
He sits across the table from Raymond, casually juggling a single die across his knuckles. "Who wants to buy me a drink? I'll roll ya for it. We can even go for lowest rolls this time, make it fair for you eh Raymond?"
Raymond smirks and shakes his head. "I know your tricks, ya cheat. You'll not catch me rolling any dice or dealing any cards with you at the table, and you know it. I'll buy ya the drink, though. I owe you for that were-panda debacle."
Raymond stands and walks to the bar. As he walks away from the table, you catch some frantic movement from the fabric that seemingly holds his right hand in place behind his back, but it quickly stops.
Raymnd slaps down a few silver on the bar. "Your best grog, my friend. Four glasses, if you please." He carries the four tankards back to the table and passes them around.
Orin nearly drops the die between his fingers and shifts uncomfortably.
"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again..."
Having heard Orin's last statement as he was walking away, Raymond returns to his seat and says "Was a big favor you did me, taking her off my hands. Wasn't really a bad-looking wench, for one that turns black-and-white and gets even fatter than she had been... Don't really know what she saw in me..." he continues talking about the forbidden incident, to Orin's chagrin, while they wait for their two associates to show up.
A fairly young elf approaches and sits, having heard the exchange as he walked up. Enrithel has dark hair and appears to be wearing a wizard's cloak and a headband.
"Thanks for the brew, Raymond." As he accepts his own all of the tankards gain a hint of frost as Enrithel chills them further.
Orin's tankard gains the black and white patterning of a panda.
As Raymond returns with the drinks, Orin pats Raymond on the back and says. "It's alright buddy. Anything for you. I know how much our friendship means to you."
A massive mountain of a man, grizzled but not quite un-kempt, sits with his back against the wall, his over-large axe propped up within reach. The alertness of his eyes belies the relaxed nature of his posture.
His thick fingers wrap around the mug as he nods his thanks to Raymond. "So many words, such little substance." he says with a sigh as he tilts the tankard back and empties it in 1 gulp.
Raymond nods to both Hurok and Enrithel as they sit. "Good to see you, gents. Money's tight. Any suggestions on where to get some? I've got... good reasons to start delving and try to find some powerful magics."
"Were you thinking to start with an easy one, or will someone be after your kneecaps until you get a big score?"
Enrithel sips his brew.
"Personally, I owe nothing to no one, with the exception of a certain old hag, and all that's owed her is vengeance."
"No sense in drudging around in the belly of the world when there plenty o' gold to be had for much easier work. I say we check out what kind of broadsheets popped up, and see if the constable has anything we can do at the same time. I always liked getting two paychecks for the same job."
"Work is work."
"Another round, good man. That's all I need for the moment."
Enrithel turns Orin's tankard back to normal, so the man doesn't think his cup is permanently defaced.
"I believe we're all set. Thanks for your assistance."
Enrithel hands the man a couple of silver for the next round.
"Well what do you say? Shall we enjoy one last evening before we have new responsibilities, or check the boards before we lose the light?"
Raymond shrugs. "Let's chug this round and look at the boards. No sense wasting the evening light. There's no wenches in here anyway." he says gruffly.
Orin finishes his second drink and scoots his chair back.
"Let's see what kind of trouble they'll pay us for this time."
If there are no objections, we head to the bulletin board once everyone finishes their drinks.
"Then on to the board. Some killing to be done I think."
Orin stops the boy after he hammers in the note.
"Hey kid, take us to the person who paid you to put this up."
He then reaches into his pocket shows him two silver coins. With a flourish, Orin flicks the coins into the air and lands them in the boy's satchel.
Enrithel plucks the note off the board to bring with them.
Raymond shrugs. "Works for me. Let's go." He follows the others to the Sword Point Inn.
Hurok nods contently and begins to follow. It's always easier when others make the decisions he thinks to himself.
"Talk to a sick man at an invalid home and help an old man escape his metaphorical demons? This is a job I can really get behind. I was afraid there would be ACTUAL demons involved. Better yet, I hear the old folks at these places get into some righteous games of towersss..."
Orin realizes he is rambling again and glances around to see if anyone is glaring at him this time.
"Any idea where to start looking for Taergan?"
Raymond nods at Orin. "Quite. Sounds like we can handle this easily." He waits for more information based on Orin's questions.
"I'm Orin. Gambler & lover with a bit of an adventuring problem. I go where there is coin to be made, damsels to be saved, glory to be had, or sometimes, wherever Raymond ends up." Because someone has to keep him out of trouble.
"I can't say I've ever slain dragons or demons, although I may have bed some. Never seen the arctic north, nor the beasts of the Mwangi, but if you have a reasonable request and the coin to back it up, I'm your man. And based on what I've heard so far, I think we shall get along just fine."
"This here is Enrithel, Hurok, and Raymond. Introduce yourselves boys. Let's show these two why they should give us their gold."
"What the dandy said," Raymond says gruffly, indicating Orin. He cracks his neck and the muscles in his right arm seem to bulge for a moment, the arm seeming to strain against its restraints, before settling.
"We go where the money is. Orin there likes to call himself some sort of oracle with his cards, but he's really just a good distraction for those that need stabbed. That part's generally my job."
"I'm not sure why I still join these savages - I suppose it's a suitable counterpoint to my time spent studying. That, and the price of books never seems to stop growing." Enrithel pats his coin purse unconsciously.
"Though I do enjoy putting theory into practice once in a while." Enrithel grins at that, holding his hand palm-up as ice begins to crystallize around it.
Pretending he doesn't realize his hand is still frigid Enrithel pats Hurok on the shoulder, leaving behind a dusting of frost.
"I am Hurok, from the lands of the Mammoths, where the winds blow with the voice of demons and the snow hides white witches at every turn. I was the strongest warrior of my tribe, no other man could life my axe."
Hurok nods his head toward the axe behind him with a small grin on his face.
"While out on a hunt, we were ambushed by a band of orcs. We fought fiercely but were badly out-numbered and, in the end, only I made it back to the camp. Disgraced due to the defeat and failure to protect my people, I was exiled. Now I wander, looking for a heroic death at the very least. These 3 handle the boring stuff, so that works for me for now."
"May as well stop by Flinn's house now, before we set out for Hope's Hollow."
Without waiting for the others to chime in, Raymond heads toward the neighborhood where Targus Flinn's house is located, according to the two old coots.
Enrithel warms his hand (magically), nods at Branda and Versus, turns towards Raymond, then casts message on his companions.
"I can't help but notice there was no discussion of compensation..."
"Oh. S#$*&." Raymond walks back to the old people. "We get paid for this, right?"
"It seems Raymond doesn't want his share..."
"Speaking of shares, what are we doing this for a share of exactly?"
Hurok patiently oils his axe as the others discuss silly things like money.
Enrithel searches his memory of the area for anything which might suggest the cause of this haunt.
He casts Resistance on himself, and calls out to the haunt.
"Spirit! If you can understand us how may we put you to rest?"
"What? Who is it? Where are they?" Raymond's arm starts trying to rip itself free of its restraints, but for now they hold.
---As the haunt appears---
"Huh?"
Orin strains like he hears something for a second, then gently fondles his coin purse. Checking the contents.
"hm. must be nothing."
---on Orin's turn---
"Spirit? What spirit? What are you guys goin' on about?"
"There's nothing out here."
"No, there is something here" Hurok says, the hair on his arms standing straight up. Something....here.....but not....here.
Orintenses up and his eyes glaze over a bit
"Why are you all standing around? DO SOMETHING!"
Orin draws a card from his harrow deck. And starts to throw at the boy, but stops mid throw.
"...Unless. You are part of this. HOW HAVE I LET MYSELF BE SO BLIND."
He instead throws the card at Enrithel.
"Orin, what the hell are you doing?!!" rages Raymond.
Raymond launches himself at Orin, attempting to restrain him. As he does so, Raymond's right hand bursts from the wrappings that were holding it behind his back. As his arm comes around, you see that his right hand is blood-red, covered in veins and arteries right near the skin, and has wicked-looking claws where each fingernail should be.
He is unsuccessful at grabbing ahold of Orin.
"Seems it doesn't want to talk. After we visit Flinn maybe we should ask around about the cause of this."
Orin's card barely misses Enrithel.
"What the-!"
Enrithel was trying to be civil with the haunt, but quickly angers once threatened. He moves back, placing Orin between himself and the haunt then growls:
"CLOSE YOUR EYES RAYMOND!"
He casts Burst of Radiance such that it includes the haunt and Orin (if possible). A brilliant shimmering flash lights the area.