YOUR TEST WAS A FAILURE.
Kidding, welcome to the boards.
So any house rules you want for this game?
Might want to add that armor and weapons don't need a +1 before adding specials to them. Don't help me and won't come up for while, but it always made sense to me.
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As far as an investiture went, there was less pageantry and more bureaucracy in this one. All seven of you were made to sign the charter, one after the other. You have no idea who these other people are, or what claim they needed to stake to get into this group, but it does not matter. You are all now bound together by this piece of paper and the prospect of riches.
Your first stop is at the village of Nivakta’s Crossing, a place of common traders and workmen. From there, it is off to some watchtower, or fort on the border. Once past this last bastion of Brevoy sovereignty it is into the wilds and some place called Oleg’s Trading Post.
For now it will be 2 days or so in the slowing thawing spring weather from Restov to Nivakta’s Crossing. Perhaps you will take this time to get to know your fellow adventurers, and once in Nivakta you will have your last chance to purchase goods and taste the finer things in a civilized setting.
After signing the piece of paper I look at my new companions at that I will must likely at least be spending the next year or more with.
"So do any of you have any survival training? I must admit to being somewhat embarrassed in that area and have come to really on my guides"
Nubs snorts and hocks onto the ground a pink loogie bigger than his gnomish sinuses ought to allow.
"Trainin'?" The gnome shakes his head, his broad hat flopping a little from side to side with each short step of the dark brown pony he rides. "Ain't no trainin' on how ta survive, son! Y'either do it or ya don't! And if ya don't, then y'ain't gotta worry 'bout no trainin'!"
Nubs flashes a yellowed, crooked grin up at Kent. "The heck ya do where y'ain't gotta know how ta survive? Are ya dead already? Ya sure don't look dead."
The most unlikely of character's present, a tall slender elven woman with dark skin, beaded black hair and lovely features, adorned in revealing sashes, plenty of jewelry and a fine long heavy coat. She carries a lute and a bow and a satchel. She signs the papers excitably and turns to the rest of you with a big grin.
I am the elf. Areanna Delante, I am now standing before my new companions about to embark on a grand quest to the Stolen Lands.
I can barely contain myself. I betray a couple of giddy bounces as I prepare to address my new comrades. I clear my throat. "Greetings my fellows. For those of you who do not recognize me, I am the ever famous, the beautiful, dignified, and arrogant, singer and archer extraordinaire, Areanna Tesbellen Delante. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." I give my most exquisite bow before them.
At the question of survive I give a delightful smile. "I have plenty of skills with survival. Why, my song and music has been my bread and butter ever since I have left the Orlovsky's service. A not to mention my silver tongue. Why, with these special gifts of mine, survival has been nothing less than a piece of cake."
I start with a song. "Through the town and on yonder hills, my singing was the best way to pay all my bills. For a voice of the angels, the gods given me. I take the fruits of labor, from yon labor tree." I pull out a small journal and make a quick note of the lyrics I just sang. "Must remember these for later."
I close my book and look to the others. "Now, I have shared my identity, though some of you may have already heard of me. Now, dear friends, what names have the gods graced you with?" I eagerly await your responses.
"I am Kent Unsaid. I have some very small talent in the field of magic and am a scholar and archeologist of some modest skill"
After most had arrived, a slender young woman sauntered into the group's midst, with the same signed contact. Long red hair and vibrant green eyes accompanied a well-manicured yet sturdy outfit to complete the picture of a woman both prepared for adventure but given to fine tastes. A confidence marked her steps as she acknowledged each group member with a slow nod. For the males, was there perhaps a slight smile that accompanied that gesture? A undeniable sensuality was only enhanced by her stunning beauty. After ensuring all is set with the contact, she smiles warmly at the others. Greetings my friends, my name is Svetlana Orlovsky, Priestess of Calistria. I hope to ease the burdens of our travels with my talents and forge our way to success. Group introductions made, Svetlana then makes an effort to personally meet each of her traveling companions. With a look of curiosity, she starts with the very tall female elf. Areanna is it? With a bemused smile, as if remembering a humorous past episode she adds, is it possible that you played at Orlovsky house function a few years ago?
OOC: I posted a couple of questions for the DM and Areanna in the discussion thread.
@Svetlana "pleasure to met you"
"Now wait-a-minnit, wait a gob-danged minnit!"
Nubs fishes his rolled-up charter out of his back pocket, beady eyes and a crooked finger darting across the signatures.
"Airyanna, Survetlana, Kentun Saideye... y'all mean ta tell Ol' Nubs he signed up witha, witha, witha -- no affense, now -- witha bookworm, a lady priest, anna singer? Pshaw." The gnome shakes his head, then rolls and stuffs the charter back into the back pocket of his pants. "Nonna ya's a big ol' fightin' battler? Skull bashers? Whack! Whack!" Nubs swings his arms around in mock battle from his saddle, which slides precariously from side to side.
"No affense now, but ooooooh, my pap useta warn me 'boutcha longshankers. Thinkin' y'all can talk, talk, talk yer way outta trouble. Ol' Nubbawub Sodtopper the T'ird 'ere ain't 'cited 'bout runnin' off inta no Stolen Lands, what with it fulla bandits an' Groety-knows-what, if'n Ol' Nubbawub Sodtopper the T'ird is gonna be all th' muscle. Ain't that right, Apples?"
The pony flaps its lips.
"don't worry to about that am sure that there are many hardy types in our party to deal with hard temporary problem. Us soft types are good for easy permanent solutions"
"If it is a skull you want bashed, you need but only ask."Came the good humored and masculine voice of the newest companion to arrive. "Hail." he uttered afterwards, holding up a signed contact in his leather gauntleted hand in an effort to show them he was a member of this band.
The man approached cautiously, but he had no weapons drawn. His other hand occupied as it was with the lead of the squat mule that trailed behind him.
"Greetings, I am Ulryk Lebeda. I did not catch all your names."As he spoke he looked to the gnome and the elf, having caught the introduction of Kent and Svetlana as he approached.
His Fierce, chesnut brown eyes swept ove the assembled group. So these were to be his traveling companions. He understood the gnome's concerns, most of them did not look the warrior.
Ulryk had a round face and full cheeks covered in a thick cedar brown beard. His mouth formed into a frown. With powerful muscles and broad shoulders, he was dressed in chain with four iron plateguards, a chainmail coif and a spiked helmet. Over this is a simple tabbard bearing his personal heraldic crest a rearing Or (gold) Elk on a field of Vert (green), beneath which are gold inked words "Success through toil" Across his back was a wicked looking three-pronged polearm and at his belt hung a flail.
His mule came behind pulling a cart ladden with supplies.
To miss Orlovsky I nod. "Family head Orlovsky was like my second father. I have performed many times for our lord and studied his lessons well. I enjoyed the years I have spent with your family. It was Lord Orlovsky that taught me the proper way to deal with people. I believe I have seen you before also, at your younger age moreover. We elves age slower than you humans. I believe I was present when you were born."
I smile at the amusing gnome. Pulling out my bow I state with confidence. "I have spent a good decade perfecting my craft at archery. Also, I know a good spell or too, and finally, I have my inspirational singing skills to help motivate others to greater deeds and accomplishments. I am not one for getting, ugh, into a brawl with bandits. I will support others who do and that is all. I am hear to keep records and write songs to secure our legacy. And when you need a people person, I am the obvious choice am I not?"
At the newcomer I smile delightfully. "See, here is our...ugh...skull smasher...ew just the thought makes me a trifle queezy." I then look to the warrior. "As I had stated to the others, I am the beautiful, dignified, and arrogant, singer and archer extraordaire, the sensational Areanna Tresbellen Delante. I am the chronicler of our expedition and you, my lucky fellow, are the man who gets to ensure my safety on this venture. It is an honor to meet you and I look forward of singing songs of your glorified bravery to the masses in the near future."
Folding up the contract, he slipped it into a sachel on his belt and fastened the seal. He did not want to lose that, though he knew the writ was less important in the long run then the deed. He was certain that the stolen land would not be reclaimed with written words, but rather with blood and sweat.
At only five foot, eleven inches he had to look up at the beanpole shaped elf to meet her eyes. The attractive elven woman dwarfed him by at least two heads.
"Skill with a bow can be useful, especially in the wild lands, but you may find that bandits and highwaymen are less caring whether you wish to fight them with sword in hand or not." Feeling a kink in his neck from looking up at her, he let his eyes sink to level his gaze, a hint of a smile causing his frown to vanish for a moment.
"Nonetheless miss Tresbellen Delante, I will protect you if you will be my chronicler, bard, and friend. I fear I am no knight made, but I have devoted a decade to martial training and their are few who have my strength or determination."
After a moment his eyes moved away from the elven singer and surveyed the others who had arrived. It seemed he was by far the youngest of the band. Kent looked to be the age of his uncle Haestyn, though maybe even as old as his father. Svetlana looked of age with his brother Rolynd, likely five or six years his elder - though still quite attractive and though he could not properly discern the age of the gnome, he knew that the strange fey's did not age the same as mortal men.
"Is this to be all our number? A band of five? I had thought the charter indicated more... No matter, we have a long road ahead of us and we should not tarry long." he spoke the words and then set his intense eyes Southward, where their destination ultimately lay.
"Whew! Y'allrick, buddy, ya got armor'n everythin'!" Nubs reins Applecrusher around to ride alongside the the Brevoyic armsman, although even when mounted the gnome can barely make eye contact. "Sure am glad yer here. Ol' Nubs 'preciates a big ol' head thwacker! Pap always said, 'Hit 'em with th' biggest stick you ken carry!' An' that's a big'un, yep!"
Looking past Ulryk, Nubs smiles up even higher at the towering Areanna. "And Ol' Nubs is glad ta know they teach y'all singers some practicality-like things too, like bow shootin'. Yer bow get a little too bent up, Airyanner, just let Ol' Nubs take a look. Fix 'er right up. Mebbe we go huntin' t'gether, share bow-shootin' tips! Zwing! Thwack!"
After a toothy laugh, Nubs looks around again. "But I coulda sworn I saw some red-head somethin'-er-other. 'nother longshanker like y'all. And some sneaky type... but mebbe that was jus' some shadows."
Ulryk offered a tenative smile to the gnome. It was a rare thing for his face to show, but when it did his features practically lit up with charisma. He'd never met a gnome before and though his parents had warned with with bedtime stories of the fey races when he was young, curiousity and good courtesy won out over caution in this instance.
"It is a good to be here. I thank you. Your name is ol'nubs? Or is it just Nubs?" He inquired.
After a bit he turned his eyes to the sky, then looked at the length of his companion's shadows, no doubt trying to determine the time of day.
"The day is warm enough for good travel and I recommend we try to reach Nivakta’s Crossing in two days, though without steeds it may take us longer. I am eager to bring law and civilization back to the Stolen Lands."
I giggle at the gnomes. "I like your manner of speech. It has it's own unique rhythm and a rugged charm to it." I let out a sigh and an expression of disappointment. "Alas, they do not teach singers how to shoot a bow."
I perk up, place my hands on my hips and jut my chest proudly. "But I am no ordinary singer mind you. I am the well read, self sufficient Areanna Tesbellen Delante. After reading books of countless adventures," I turn and look at Ulryk. "I have read of the bandits you speak of. In tales like those, the brave, heroic, and manly warriors often stood between bandits and the more fragile members of their party." My eyes sparkle with a romantic glint as I recant the tales I have read. "These brave fellows willing to risk their lives in the defense of the defenseless. If is all so romantic." I the place my hands on my cheeks as I blush like some lovestruck school girl. "To have someone so strong willing to lay down their life for you. It is absolutely romantic and a story I wish to live."
I then straighten up. Proudly and arrogantly I add "But I, the great Areanna Tesbellen Delante will not make my hero do all the work, nor will I simply cower like some helpless little girl! For that is the reason I took up the bow. Ten years ago I couldn't even hold it right but through persistence and perserverance, I can now it any stationary target with ease! I will not be a burden on our brave men-at-arms, but a excellent support, this I promise on both the honors of house Orlavsky and house Delante, I will be a valuable member of this party." I take a bow and then look about with a vibrant grin as though expecting some kind of standing ovation.
A cloaked, hooded figure returns to the road from the direction the party is heading. Challenging the elf for height, the being shoulders a large pack and numerous quivers with arrows dyed a number of different colors. A well-used longbow rests easily in one hand and the extended hilt of a sword protrudes proudly from behind her right shoulder. She draws back her hooded cloak, revealing brilliant red hair pulled back into a thick, lengthy braid. Her piercing green eyes regard each of the party members, but she offers no smile in greeting. She moves with a powerful grace, though her beauty is aloof, hard and haunted.
Silently, she falls into step with the group.
Svetlana watched the group interactions with some amusement, their personalities and zest for life on display for one and all. all with their quirks, but an enjoyable bunch it seems Acknowledging the greeting from the shy-seeing mage of few words she responds: and it is a pleasure to meet you as well. Kent, is it? Svetlana's smile and her interest seem genuine, as if each person were a source of particular intrigue.
Ulryk also seems to attract the priestess' notice. With a warm smile and direct eye contact she says you certainly seem to be a pleasent addition to our band. Areanna is right, a brave manly warrior is truly a joy. With a slight bow, but never losing eye contact she adds, I am Svetlana, but perhaps you heard as much as you arrived. As a priestess of Calistria, I will soothe your wounds as they occur. Sometimes that requires a touch, she runs a finger lightly down the warriors arm, and sometimes not she says as she playfully pulls her finger away. Still smiling, she adds but I do believe you are correct, let's get on with our travels! Too much time spent thinking about actions instead of simply taking them leads to a listless life. Let's be off!
Brigid's eyes flick between the two sultry beauties as they flirt with the armored warrior. She still says nothing and her face remains a mask.
As she hitches her pack on her shoulders, the sword strapped on her back shifts, and its evident that it is extremely long -- easily 5 feet -- of the zweihänder style favored by the peoples of Irrisen.
When she finally speaks, her Irriseni heritage is evident in her accent -- rich and throaty with a strangely musical quality. Has everyone provisions for the road? I can hunt and forage, but it vill add time to our journey. This time of year is lean. Better to carry the food vith us.
"I am a bit unprepared"
Svetlana left Ulryk's side with a final smile as the group moved on. Her stride brought her next to the stoic female warrior. The priestess looked up in surprise as the woman spoke, and responded with a welcoming expression. I did bring a small portion of food, but was hoping that perhaps yourself or maybe the good Nubs could discover more. In return, I can create an endless supply of water as needed. Quite helpful on a potentially thirsty journey, yes? Smiling at the archer she added I don't believe I caught your name back there, would you mind sharing it? We have a long trip ahead of us, maybe we can be friends. Although the flirtatious tone she used with Ulryk was gone, Svetlana's interest and friendly demeanor seemed just as genuine.
She nods, looking unsurprised, but not upset about the wizard's lack of preparation.
Turning to Svetlana, she responds, Brigid. Of Vhitehelm. She looks about to say more, but bites back her words and faces the road ahead. Her eyes grow distant as she surveys the land ahead.
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Moving along...
Heading down the slushy road, with only part of the party mounted, it looks like it will take about 2 days to reach Nivakta’s Crossing. A strong wind from the southwest brings with it some warmth, but as the sun sinks, you are glad to see the lights of a coaching inn ahead. As you enter the fore court, the sun is just dropping over the horizon, and your breath comes out in white puffs. A stable boy runs out to care for your mounts as a young girl beckons from the main building. As you enter, you notice the full moon rising in the distance, poking through an increasing cloud cover.
You enter the main taproom. Most of the customers seem to be locals; coming in for a quick pint before heading off home for their dinner. The keeper of the house inquires to your accommodation, and method of pay. A youngish man, with long brown hair and a small scar over his left eye, he seems happy to have some actual travelers visiting his establishment.
"Two rooms I'll pay half up front"
After the exchange of coin for food and lodging, Brigid unloads her pack, props her sword and bow against the wall, and removes her cloak, hanging it off her sword's crossguard. Her garments are the usual Issian style of leather and wool, but surprisingly she is wearing a chain shirt as well, something the metal-poor tribes of the northern hills could scarcely afford.
As the local fare is brought out, she takes a seat and eats without comment, except to order a mug of the local drink.
"I'll pay 15 sp upfront and if we haven't been robbed or attacked in the night I'll give you 6 sp in the morning."
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Nubs can't even remember the last time he slept under a roof and finds himself more than a little nervous about being cooped up with a bunch of strangers. His usual chatty nature is overwhelmed by how little he really knows of these long-leggers, their cities, or their ways.
Without much trust in even unloading his bow, arrows, and cane, he carries them as gingerly as he can to get closer to Brigid. The gnome climbs onto the bench to stand on it and get a better view.
"Hey, er... how'dya get that food, Briggit?" Instead of his jovial tone from the road, his voice is quiet and timid. His face is bright pink from embarrassment and wrinkled with a frown. "Sorry ta ask... Ol' Nubs don't, ah, I dunno how ta get food inna place like this."
Svetlana smiles warmly at the young man addressing the party. After purchasing a room and meal with an exchange of coin she adds; Why that is very kind of you, it is quite cold outside and a hot meal combined with a soothing drink could be just the thing. The priestess discreetly scans the room while continuing; tell me good sir, has there been any events of note in this area recently, anything out of the unusual? Following the conversation, Svetlana first thought to join Brigid at a table, but thought twice of it upon seeing an oddly sheepish-looking Nubs in quiet conversation with the woman. Instead, she decides to mingle a bit with the locals, striking up conversations with perhaps a slight preference for the better-looking males.
OOC: Not sure if I should do Diplomacy Checks here or not.
Earlier...
The noble son of house Lebeda listed to the diatribe of fanciful romance that Areanna wove, listening intently with the hint of a smile. He wanted to ask her what style of songs she sung, as well as whether or not she played any intrustments, but refrained for the moment - partially out of a sudden shyness, but also because there would be plenty of time for that on the road.
"You flatter me with your words Lady Orlovsky." He addressed her as a formal lady, believing that like himself she was noble born.
Ulryk was intrigued by Svetlana's words and seemed to respond favorably to her flirtateous manners, curious about the faith she practiced. Like most men, religion played a role in his life, but his faith was limited to aping what the priests said and the occassional holiday, focused more on Abadar and Pharasma.
"Well met ladies and you as well, Brigid" He said after the last of their group arrived. It seemed she was almost as tall as Areanna and could not help but become self conscious of his own height. At just under six feet he was by no means short, but by comparison... then a glance to his gnomish companion and he let his own insecurities melt away. Nub's must feel as if he is walking amidst giants. Brevoy certainly produced formidable women.
"I look forward to learning more about you and your capabilities as we journey together. I imagine there will be many nights where we can talk about the campfire."
The coaching inn...
The first thing Ulryk did was attend to the stabling of his mule. While the animal was not a proper mount, he sought to treat Ragnaris well. When the proprietor indicated the cost for stables he was a little taken aback, but what did he know about the price of lodgings - he'd never had to pay for a room before in his life. A part of him thought about indicating his noble blood to the man, but he thought better of it. Still, he made no effort to hide his expensive tabbard or the gold elk broach he wore.
Striding up to the man, he set down three gold coins and three silver coins. "A room for myself, access to the stables for my mule, and dinner for all five of my friends and I. I believe that should cover it, my good man."
He then turned back to his new companions. It had not escaped his notice that some were less prepared then others. He decided being magnanimous now could only help in the future. "My new friends, help yourself to a full meal, dinner is my gift."
Returning his attention to the young man for a moment, he leaned in close. "Do our accomodations include a warm bath?" He had his doubts and knew that soon he would have to get used to roughing it. "Also, will there be a breakfast in the morning?"
Brigid looks up from her meal, eyes a bit wide at the gnome's question. She gestures at the smattering of silver coins on her table. You pay for it. Then, at the announcement by Ulryk, she amends, or, you vait for it to be brought to you.
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I was about to pay for the rooms when I was interrupted by Ulryk. I shrug put the money away and set a table to be served.
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The owner nods his head, and a look of relief crosses his face as Ulryk produces money for his lodging, stabling and food for the group.
”I thank you good sir. As for a bath, we have a copper tub in the kitchen which can be curtained off, and hot water readied on the fire for you, but it is an extra charge.” He looks the man over, then waves his hands dismissively.
”On second thought sir, it is on the house. I will tell the scullion to begin warming water. It will be not more than half of an hour sir. Oh, and breakfast is always free. Just a pot of warmed oats, but if you are early there can be some warm, fresh goat’s milk as well as new bread.”
With this taken care of, he turns his attention back to Kent. ”For the remaining rooms and stabling, it will cost 15 silver pence.
Ulryk was gladdened to hear that a bath could be arranged and even smiled when the young man offered it to him as a courtesy of the house. It would be good to have a nice warm bath, especially since he suspected such luxuries would be in short supply once they made their journey past the watchtower.
"Thank you my good man. It is appreciated and I shall remember this establishment when I next pass this way. Warm oats and milk in the morning will be perfect for a day of travel. As for the bath, do not rush it, I have a meal to sup on first and then I must peel off this chain.” He tugged at the mail of his right arm, then removed his helmet and carrying it under his arm he made his way to one of the larger tables, gesturing for his new traveling companions to join him if they wished. He saw that some had already seated themselves elsewhere, but hoped they would adjust to dine as a group.
One of them was of course welcome to share his room, but for the moment he made no offer of such. If they wished for privacy, he would not deny them that.
Nubs really does feel like he's surrounded by big walking willowy trees. The simple fact Brigid was seated makes her the most approachable even if she seems more distant in manners.
Still, the gnome appreciates her simple, straightforward answer and manages to look considerably less worried about the prospect of food coming over to him.
"Oh... that's a right novel idear. I just gotta sit an' food'll come over? Beats runnin' after it with a bow an' knife."
So he sits down, immediately feels dwarfed again between the table's height and Brigid's, and scampers back up to his feet atop the seat with a sheepish grin.
"Or mebbe they think I'm sittin' already."
He spots Ulryk waving from a few tables away and waves back.
"Or mebbe we need ta head over ta Y'allrick since he gave 'em money?"
Nubs wrinkles his hat's brim backward with a furrowed brow, looks to Brigid, then looks back to Ulryk and shrugs.