Your wanderings from about the earth have resulted with you ending here, in a new tavern in Startville on the night of the first day of Year Zero. You have heard about this event since the earliest days you can remember. Some are dubious choose to ignore the prophecies of some unknown coot a millenium ago. Some obsess about the coming events and have barred their windows against the coming storm. In any case, this tavern is the only place in town with reasonable rooms and meals. Most people here seem apathetic towards the prediction. They still have lives to live and if it is taken away, no different than a normal death.
The time is 10:30, and you enter a bar and sit yourself down. The barmaid comes around an take your drink orders. The crowded tavern seems to have a tension in the air, but people do converse with each other and make themselves new acquaintances in this room.
The mead being served tastes stronger than usual, perhaps even nasty to the stomach, but it is no worse than the regular slop served up in any other tavern.
In the room there are the following patrons.
The Barmaid A tall and unattractive woman serving drinks to all takers. You suspect that there is a taint of monstrous in her blood. Her skin is tinted towards an unnatural orange and her face shows the dumbed demeanour of a goblinoid. In any case, she seems to be doing her best to serve you well.
The Bartender This halfling man sits behind the bar, keeping a close watch on his charge. He coughs pointedly at anyone gawking at his barmaid, but he is otherwise a knowledgeable looking fellow and a worldly one as well. He greets you with a smile as you approach and asks you what you feel this next year will bring.
Hooded Figure In the corner of the tavern sit an elf creature shrouded under thick robes. You would not be able to tell he is an elf except for the size and proportions of his body. He seems distant and mysterious, but approachable nonetheless.
The Salesman This human approaches everyone in the bar, advertising his cousin's ship tours. “A real wet and wild adventure for everyone.” He proclaims, “with many treasures and secrets to be found.”
The Weathered one This gnome sits by the bar, with his dog companion at his side. This starved looking beast wanders the bar, looking for scraps from the tables. He looks like he has just travelled a great journey and he is up for no reason other than to drink himself to sleep. Sand is visible on his clothing, suggesting that he has just been either to a beach or a desert. He seems lost in the bottom of his empty glass, obviously sad as he searches his pack for a few more silver pieces to buy one more round.
You There are five other people populating this room, each with their own stories and motives for being here. Feel free to talk to them and meet these people. They may even be your future allies. I suppose anything could come in the future....
A dark haired Half-Elf sits at the end of the bar. He looks like he can't decide what he wants to be doing, alternating from glancing at the door, to scooting his mug around in front of him, though he doesn't seem to need to touch it to do so. Only occasionaly does he pause to take a sip.
Upon hearing the Barkeep asking about the coming year, he pauses long enough to reply,
"War, war is coming. A great battle like none that came before. And Im gonna be in it, I know it."
As almost an afterthought he take a sip of his still-full ale, which has just turned a lurid shade of green.
"And what for you two gentlemen? Another mead?"
The waittress' voice was gravelly, and her skin was a color that Thundrik didn't like. He could feel his fists clenching beneath the table, just thinking about it. He didn't know why he disliked her look so much, but he did. He grunted at her, maybe saying yes, maybe saying no. He wasn't really sure himself. It had been a long day of travelling- he and Argent had been walking all day, and it was nice to finally get to their destination and be able to sit down. The first mead tasted bitter, but it was better than some he'd had.
After a moment or two, the waittress walked away. She must have taken Thundrik's response as a "yes", because a couple moments later she returned with another round for both of them. She waited there for another moment, perhaps expecting some sort of tip, but eventually she huffed and walked away. Thundrik didn't even notice. He had his book out, and he was thumbing through it once again. He'd had this particular book for many, many years- it was a book on the flora and fauna of the area. Not that he had a particular interest in plants, but over the years he'd developed a need for knowledge of nature. In all the time he and Argent had been traveling together since the day of that cave-in, more often than not they'd needed to survive in the wild, covering their tracks, foraging and keeping clear of natural hazards. Reading this book was something he did when he had nothing better to do- which was often. He didn't particularly stand out, even with the big hideous scar across his face- or even the fact that his face was practically clean-shaven, which was unheard of among Dwarves. But despite all that, he never stood out in a crowd, especially when he wanted to. It took five minutes for him to even get the waittress' attention when they came in- it wasn't until Argent stepped in and started flirting with her that she brought them drinks. No, nobody ever seemed to even noticed him- except when he got angry, and then...
He ran a hand through his short hair absentmindedly as he sipped his drink. Supposedly Startville was the place to go if you wanted adventure and excitement- not that he did, but he needed answers, which weren't going to come any other way. He glanced around the room, looking at everyone around. Plenty of unsavory types here, as there often were in these types of taverns. He wondered if any of them were looking for work too. As he began to see the bottom of his glass, he wondered what the rest of the night had in store for him.
Looking like one who has forgotten something, Alric reaches into his belt and draws forth a short ivory baton. Holding this he murmurs softly and then his outline begins to shimmer.
coming out of his reverie, he replaces the baton, and orders a second ale.
Just noticing the dour looking dwarf and his empty glass, Alric totes his second ale, and his still-still-full first over.
"The ale can't be THAT bad. Here, try one with some...seasoning"
As he passes the mug, it's contents turn a lively sky blue.
Between the flirting with the barmaid (who obviously hasn't been flirted with in some time)and making small talk with Thundric Agent occasionally looks at the hilt of his sword and mumbles.
whispered at his swordNo I don't care that you want to be out. It's illegal to not have you peace-bonded while were in civilized areas! yeah ok I'll polish you tonight and I'll pay extra attention to the finish. Also you comment about the girl was uncalled for!
He continues to nurse his mead (if you can call it that)wishing it were wine...good wine. Argent mused that he missed being wealthy, but he quickly dismissed that thought. He would make a name for himself and then they would all recognize him as the rightful he thought. Shaking his head to enable his escape from the depths of his thoughts. He once more concentrated on the real world....and of course his flirting.
Taking the barmaid (name) aside he says "could you get me something to eat and not the stuff that's being served but the stuff you and the owner eat. I'd be ever so appreciative luv!" When she leaves to procure whatever it is he'll be eating Argent approaches "The salesman" and says "Good sir where is this treasure you speak? And if it is also attached to fame we (unconsciously patting his sword) may be able the come to an agreement."
The dwarf will respond to your offer of ale as he sees fit.
Sirish goes to the back room for a moment, and gives you the same meal as before, but on a plate that looks like it has seen better days. "This is mine" she says, pointing to the china. "I think we all get the same food. All from the wagon-men. They don't like me. My rabbits like me though and the wagon-men like the rabbits, so I guess we like the same thing." At this point, the barkeep comes around from behind the bar. "Alright Sirish, this is going to be one of my customers. Why don't you take stock in the back? " The barkeep gives you a stern look. "Shameful." is all he says to you. The words resound in your head, reminding you of the past.
As far as the salesman is concerned, your conversation with him is stalled for a moment as he is preoccupied berating the gnome man at present.
Argent sucks his teeth at what the barkeep said knowing deep down that he could not have know how deeply the comment would wound him and says "I meant no harm merely harmless flirting. I do apologize if I have offended."
Unraveler (His sword) on the other hand screams inside of Argents head "Teach that commoner his place boy! Does he not know he speaks to a member of the Hellstrike family! We have forged this world into what it is! There would be.."
Argent cut Unraveler off mid-sentence saying aloud "and that's why it's ending!" In such a way that he seemed to still be addressing the barkeep. "Again friend barkeep I was only trying to get different food as I have a delicate constitution and the general fare here is somewhat harsh to both my stomach and palate. I did not wish to offend." and bows respectfully while mentally shouting at Unraveler "one word about peasants and I'll be keeping you in the scabbard and unpolished for a week!!!"
He begins to eavesdrop on the conversation between the salesman and the gnome .
He begins to eavesdrop on the conversation between the salesman and the gnome .
Unraveler screams inside of your mind. "We could have been great. Lords of the land!. It was all laid out before you, and here we are in this drab bar waiting to die. I'll tell you what, sonny, I'm going to pull you up out of this. We'll make it to the top. I'll be tasting royal blood before I'm done with you, one way or another. " This tirade drowns out the noise in the bar to you. making things seem eerily quiet.
.
The half-elf places a mug of a bright blue concoction in front of him, just as his first glass is emptied. Thundrik looks up at the man, and begins to mumble something about the color and halfway through his comment switches to something disparaging the fact that the half-elf hasn't even finished his own drink, but at some point in the delivery the words get lost in his throat. In the end it comes out mostly mumbles.
"Don't know if the color... mrmm even finished your own... Er... thank you."
He sniffs it, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected aroma. In another world, another lifetime, someone would probably advise him against taking an unaturally-colored and too-good-to-be-true smelling drink from a stranger in a bar, but he's a Dwarf. He never had a drink strong enough to argue with him. He swishes it around, and takes a sip- it's surprisingly good. He can't remember the last time he had a drink as good as this one, in fact. He drains the glass almost instantly, and before the half-elf has a chance to walk away, Thundrik gestures for him to sit down.
"C'mere, sit down... I guess... that was really good. How'd you do that? Some... magic or something?"
He glances over at Argent, who has walked off with the barmaid and is being spoken to- probably accusatorily- by the barkeep. Thundrik wonders to himself why he never bothered to learn such a useful trick.
Sliding into the proffered seat, Aric finally seems to acknowledge his own mug, taking a deep drink. He responds
"Magic? Yes actually. Don't remember how I got by before, to be honest. "
He gestures towards the bar and a bottle and a dozen glasses fly over and arrange themselves on the table.
"Its in the blood, dragon's blood to be precise."
He punctuates this statement by prying the cork off the bottle with a newly formed claw. Then, as he fills each of the glasses, the contents change from murky brown to become a pallet of reds and golds.
"Im called Alric."
You all overhear as the salesman raises his voice to in a jovial shout to the sand covered gnome. "You haven't seen anything yet! Desert is nothing. You must be one of those Royaleton folk. The Real adventure is on the sea. My Cousin owns the boat just a short ways south of town. It's a 3 hour tour and I can swing it for you for just 5 GP and deposit. "
"Ting!" a bright chime sounds from the table near the open window. A reedy man sitting there has just tapped his mug of flat mead with a shiny metal rod. He looks at the mug patiently until the drink starts to froth - and nicely too - or too nicely - as the bubbles foam over into a puddle on the table. The little metal rod in the man's hand is a tube, for he blows through it at the table and the mess promptly dissapates away into nothing.
He looks contented, the rod flits out of sight, and he carefully examines the drink with all his senses before raising it to his lips for a little sip.
He is long and thin. About 30 - 35 years. He is dressed in the grey habit of a cloistered monk from the hill country. A metal-tipped, long wooden staff is propped onto his shoulder, the lower end is held steady by his leg - wrapped around it. His leather boots curl up at the toes fashionably. He has penetrating blue eyes, which - though they are not directed at anything in particular - seem to see be taking in every last detail of the comings and goings in the establishment. A blue scarf is carefully wrapped about his head....and seems fastened by some sort of metal brooch near his left ear. He remains seated for a while...sipping away contentedly.
Aside from his pack, which sits at his side, he wears - in a leather baldric - a great horn tipped with silver that lays now upon his knees. He looks toward the salesman with mild interest over his tipping mug.
Thundrik watches the glasses and bottle float magically from the bar, raising an eyebrow at the display. The half-elf then said something about dragon's blood, a comment which was lost on the dwarf. He begins eyeing his (now empty) glass, wondering if he just drank dragon's blood. He mumbles something to himself.
"Isn't.... rare or something..."
As the gentleman seated next to him introduces himself, Thundrik watches once again in relative amazement as the man's hands become claws, and the drink he's pouring begins changing colors right before his very eyes.
"The name's Thundrik. That over there-" he then gestures towards Argent, who is approaching the salesman- "is Argent. Are you from here, Alric?"
A tall human stands up. He carries a Falchion, and a bow. He seems to be looking for someone or something, yet he has the demeanor of someone who does not want to be approached himself. He appears to be a young man probably just out of his teens.
He first notices the hooded figure who seems more standoffish than he is. He has a feeling that he should leave that one alone. He has no need for drink so the bartender and the bar winch are not appealing either.
The old man also looks uninspiring, but the man speaking of treasure and adventure may be good for info. At the least he can probably spin a good tale for entertainment.
He approaches the Salesmen:
"Hello my name is Casvian, and rather than banter back and forth I prefer to get straight to the point. What is this adventure you speak of?"
Argent in the throes of being berated by Unraveler doesn't even notice Casvian until he adresses the salesman which startles Argent causing him to leap away bumping into a passing patron. Argnet smiles sheepishly and sputters out something that sounds remarkably like an appology but not terribly like proper common. he gathers himself and then says to the person he bumped into "I do apologize I thought I err..I slipped!?". He then turns and slinks back to the salesman trying to look nonplussed and failing miserably.
" Adventure you say?!?! Why none finer! Imagine sailing across the water, the sun is the only thing separating the sea from the sky. Managing the mast and using the winds to propel yourself. The feeling of freedom! The a.ven.ure t.. p....r"
The man's voice slips away into nothingness and he looks confused and shocked at this. The man from the desert has left to go to sleep at this point, turning up the stairs located above the bar, but he has actually passed out on the stairs and his canine companion is trying to nudge him awake and the dog would be whimpering but for the sea of silence. A dark figure appears in the centre of the room who you had not noticed before, except that Argent had bumped into the invisible creature. A devious and dark smile comes across this woman's lips as her dark-elf companions simulataneously enter from all point in the room.
Will save
Intiative
Perception
Fortitude
And to recognize any spell:
Will saves, perception checks, and initiative from everyone.
Will Save: 1d20+4
Perception Check: 1d20+14
Initiative: 1d20+10
That last line is not supposed to be there. I put it there so I would not forget anything. I then forgot to remove it.
The blackened world outside seems distant through the windows, but you think you can detect movement outside as well. Many bodies surrounding the tavern. As the hands of the Hooded man flit about, you cannot help but notice the colour of his skin and the light catches in just such a way to reveal that he is himself a drow. He points one finger of one hand at each of you simultaneously, creating an interesting arrangement of digits, very dextrous and perfect magical form. He is clearly well practiced.
Init:
20-Villagers
18- Hooded Elf
17- Drow Leader
14-Argent
13- Casvian
9-Alric
9-Drow Minions
5-Thundrik
20- As the chaos ensues, the barkeep lunges for his crossbow (h8) situated next to the doorway where one drow has just entered. The salesman is caught in the middle of the room, and he runs to the nearest corner and begins cowering in fear (I 23). The dog of the gnome traveller looks scared and confused, looking around the room and unsure what to do, unwilling to leave his master's side.
18- The hooded elf, remaining seated and hidden under his cloak, waves his arms in a magical gesture and suddenly you are all able to hear the following, coming from an angry human voice.
"Nobles! Their blood shall be on my blade! Take them all, Argent! Proove yourself before they turn you to one of their slaves."
17- The priestess standing central to the room looks slowly about her with a look of satisfaction and accomplishment, no doubt revelling in the fresh meat they are about to claim. She holds an ornate fetish high above her head and a black wave of energy emanates from it in all directions.
Is there map? I have a habit of missing url links.
Wiki page. See this link: Here
Wiki page. See this link: Here
I don't see a map there.
edit:I found it. I might try to put it on google docs when I get home tonight so we can all update it in real time.
Free Action:"Focus Fire on the woman."
Move Action:Draw Bow
Swift Action:Activate Ranger's Focus
Standard Action:Shoot for the Drow Leader
Attack roll:
Damage roll:
Swift Action: Activate Arcane strike.
Standard Action: Draw Unraveler (it's peace bonded)
Move Action: None
In your minds you hear a viscous roar that could not possibly be humanoid, as the previously amicable sorcerer slashes viciously at the new found assailants. As he does, his mind races to bring up anything he knows about fighting these dark elves.
Current HP: 39
Better mention this quickly, thanks Alric for bringing this to my attention. Because of the nature of channel energy as a life-force effect, I'd like to houserule it as a fortitude save instead of will. Is everyone savvy with that? It's how I'm used to playing actually.
Varese is still getting his character sheet going, so this is a good time for the rest of us to put some elbow grease into the AP site. copy/pasting your backstories would be good. Maybe some pics and background fluff if anyone is so inclined. Varese, no pressure. We're not in a hurry. it's a long campaign so a day or two of waiting is no issue.
Swift Action: Activate Arcane strike.
Standard Action: Draw Unraveler (it's peace bonded)
Move Action: None
Fortitude:
Better mention this quickly, thanks Alric for bringing this to my attention. Because of the nature of channel energy as a life-force effect, I'd like to houserule it as a fortitude save instead of will. Is everyone savvy with that? It's how I'm used to playing actually.
Yeah I figured since he was a noble it'd be second nature to peacebond his weapon in civilized areas. Sorry I'm kinda useless for my first round though. I'll make up for it by attempting something "special" for the next round. :)
Just to check in here with a few tidbits:
Alric-You find that as your charge advances, you begin to hear the sound of your own footsteps against the ground once again. The drow woman deflects your attack with ease and scoffs in your face as she spits upon you.
Argent- Peacebonding weapons is generally the law, but because of the rough and adventurous nature of Startville, it is an exception. This is the kind of place where you're supposed to leave your gun loaded and cocked on the table as you drink at the bar. It shows you're a tough guy.
Ok, fortitude saves stand vs channel, but it was pointed out that this is different vs. undead. I'll make sure I keep this balanced and it shouldn't affect the players at all. (....unless someone decides to become a lich....)
I'll take your mass saves suggestion under advisement.
fortitude vs Channel
Just to check in here with a few tidbits:
Alric-You find that as your charge advances, you begin to hear the sound of your own footsteps against the ground once again. The drow woman deflects your attack with ease and scoffs in your face as she spits upon you.Argent- Peacebonding weapons is generally the law, but because of the rough and adventurous nature of Startville, it is an exception. This is the kind of place where you're supposed to leave your gun loaded and cocked on the table as you drink at the bar. It shows you're a tough guy.
Ok, fortitude saves stand vs channel, but it was pointed out that this is different vs. undead. I'll make sure I keep this balanced and it shouldn't affect the players at all. (....unless someone decides to become a lich....)
I'll take your mass saves suggestion under advisement.
Mass saves?
Mass saves?Just to check in here with a few tidbits:
Alric-You find that as your charge advances, you begin to hear the sound of your own footsteps against the ground once again. The drow woman deflects your attack with ease and scoffs in your face as she spits upon you.Argent- Peacebonding weapons is generally the law, but because of the rough and adventurous nature of Startville, it is an exception. This is the kind of place where you're supposed to leave your gun loaded and cocked on the table as you drink at the bar. It shows you're a tough guy.
Ok, fortitude saves stand vs channel, but it was pointed out that this is different vs. undead. I'll make sure I keep this balanced and it shouldn't affect the players at all. (....unless someone decides to become a lich....)
I'll take your mass saves suggestion under advisement.
Mass saves?Just to check in here with a few tidbits:
Alric-You find that as your charge advances, you begin to hear the sound of your own footsteps against the ground once again. The drow woman deflects your attack with ease and scoffs in your face as she spits upon you.Argent- Peacebonding weapons is generally the law, but because of the rough and adventurous nature of Startville, it is an exception. This is the kind of place where you're supposed to leave your gun loaded and cocked on the table as you drink at the bar. It shows you're a tough guy.
Ok, fortitude saves stand vs channel, but it was pointed out that this is different vs. undead. I'll make sure I keep this balanced and it shouldn't affect the players at all. (....unless someone decides to become a lich....)
I'll take your mass saves suggestion under advisement.
ok.
Init, fort, will, perception
Surprise round action: Varese does not find the source of danger in the surprise round, but something tells him that trouble is present. He stands and moves towards the door.
Round 1: While outside of the silence effect, Varese understands well that his spells would not be effective in there. He prepares himself to fight, casting mage armour on himself.
The drow minions advance on their targets.
The drow nearest the entryway steps back from her attacker and releases her own burst of negative energy. 10 damage DC 12 fort for 1/2
Above the action, a dark-elf stands on the stairs and raises her crossbow at the creature who just assaulted her leader. However, the shot flies wildly and no damage is done.
Finally, the drow warrior who has burst through the back entrance on the ground floor finds herself confronted by a small creature pointing a crossbow at her. She moves to him and attempts to run him through with a rapier, but she finds herself unsuccessful as well.
"I am done with you! Alric yells as the drow dances out of his reach.
The room goes completely silent, and Thundrik feels the cold, clammy burst of energy fill his lungs. He stands up, knocking his chair down in the process, and jumps onto the table. As he steps forward and balls up his meaty fist to attack the dark elf ahead of him, however, he slips on a plate with a potato on it and, as he jumps down off the table, his balance is off, and he misses terribly.
Above the action, a dark-elf stands on the stairs and raises her crossbow at the creature who just assaulted her leader. However, the shot flies wildly and no damage is done.
Casvian looks at the drow with the bow.
"There is nothing you can to save her. She will fall, and you will die next!"
"There is nothing you can to save her. She will fall, and you will die next!"
20-After Varese's action, the barkeep, Winston backs away from the drow facing him and fires a shot from his crossbow, but panic appears to be making his hands shake. the bolt connects into the wood near the doorway. the Salesman continues to panic and cower in the corner, while the gnome's dog has realized the situation here, and he grabs his master and is attempting to drag him down the stairs.
18- The hooded elf speaks through a connection he forms with Argent, but all of you are able to hear him.
"Children, There is no time. Do not resist these raiders. They will not kill you unless you present a threat. You must live through this. "
17- The central drow in the room gestures towards Casvian with a whirl of her hands and a tugging motion, looking much like a nuise tightening around the neck. She then proceeds to unfurl a light-protective bandage around an amulet on her neck and the area surrounding her becomes darkened.