Qwerty's WOGH TM Black (Inactive)

Game Master qwerty1971

Post your character description, purchases and introduction here. You will start in the great hall of the Hostel.

Will have everything up in an a few hours just finishing up work

Should everyone who posted answers to the interview questions post here? Description, background, and equipment are in my profile. I am still making small tweaks.

Dotting, will be able to get the description and gear up this evening

Same here.

This man is a mix of Flan and Orerifian, obviously not from around here, but who really is these days. Despite his gifted genes which are considered handsome by all corners of the Flanaess he is scarred, and badly so it seems. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows revealing his volcanic ash colored hands and forearms, and where the veins of a strong laborer would be, there are shallow fissures like cracks in the earth. The blackened ash color fades halfway up his neck leaving an ordinary, though weary-worn face with fiery halos burning around his irises like lunar eclipses. Were the man taller than 5’5” he might have been intimidating with his ashy appearance and fiery eyes, and maybe some sign of muscle to pack onto his wiry frame.

Starting gear purchased with 200gp:
Quarterstaff
Crossbow, light
Bolt x10
Scale mail
Scroll Cure light 1,1
Scroll Comprehend Languages 1,1
Cleric kit w/ iron holy symbol
Iron holy symbol
39 gold remaining

Like most wood elves his skin is a perfect deep tan, his hair sandy brown kept long and pulled back with several small braids interwoven into here and there. In fact everything about him seems nondescript, and that is no doubt how he prefers it.
He wears mottled dyed leather armor, and along his belt are two axes, one a bit larger than the other. Strangely, prominantly displayed is a holy medallion to Wee Jas.

Starting Gear -
Leather Armor - 10 gp
Battle axe - 10 gp
Long bow - 75 gp
common arrows (20) - 1 gp
whistling arrows (20) - 2 gp PRG:UC
Smoke Arrows (2) - 20 gp (10gp each) PRG:APG
Hand Axe 6gp
Dagger - 2gp
Acid flask - 10 gp
Alchemist's fire - 20 gp
Ranger's Kit 9gp - This includes a backpack, a bedroll, a belt pouch, a flint and steel, iron pot, mess kit, rope, torches (10), trail rations (5 days), and a waterskin.
Iron Holy Symbol of Wee Jas - 5 gp

170 gp out of the 200 spent.

Everything requested posted here for the ease of GM and others <3 Nice to meet you all ;)

Eltaor clicked his tongue as he gazed around the room Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 wow.... Now this.... ha ha ha ha... this is power. Who owns this place? Nothing like it where I'm from- well, not in where I'm from, anyways.

Eltaor turned around to see the others in the Hostel, catching a glimpse of a man in scale and a shield with a foreign insignia upon it. It screamed of colors, brightness, and maybe even heritage.

Eltaor walked in a semi-waltz and trot over to the man, giving the slightest of bows in his mock armor Eh hem- nice shield. Tell me- you wouldn't happen to be of a wealthy family, would you? Ha ha ha ha.

His laughter, as always, was paused, dark, and simply odd.

Okay, I think I'm finished making changes.

Description: The man standing before you is clearly the product of good breeding and a comfortable upbringing. He stands at a full 2 meters with a broad barrel chest, chiseled jaw, and full dark brown hair. His crystal blue eyes betray the Suoloise heritage mixed in with his otherwise dark-complected Oeridian features with the swarthy olive skin and thick beard. He dresses in fine clothing fit for a Courtier or perhaps a performer, though his build is a bit larger than you typically expect from a fool or socialite.

Alistair stared across the room, observing the behavior of those around him. The elf was already assessing people's position and wealth, things House Maxwell possessed in spades, but only the nouveau riche flaunted such things. The Shield Lands were an old place and the Maxwell House an old one. He may have been descended from opera singers, and a damn fine one himself, but even a house dedicated to such diversions had to be serious, had to play the game.

Alistair of course had finer clothing than this stashed away somewhere, but for now he wore his velvet suit that may have been an old costume of his and allowed people to believe him to be more troubadour than court bard. He toyed with the new ring now around his finger as he listened and watched.

He lilted gracefully into a chair and toyed with his new shoes, the advance had been well spent indeed.

You know, master elf, in some culture prying into a man's status could be considered rude - especially when put in such crass terms. Now, if you want, I could sing you a song about just such a time when such rudeness landed someone in a whole spot of trouble but I think you get the picture - to work together we really SHOULD be civil, yes?

Now, how about we do it properly, a proper introduction. I am Alistair Maxwell, of Critwall. I was recently employed in the opera there performing part of the Vecna cycle, but thanks to the recent conflict, I have ended up here instead. And you are?

linked under my name is the map for TM Black. let me know if you cannot access or edit the map. I have a map of the WOGH and I would like for you each to place your color token on the map where you are from.

warming up the diceroller, good boy diceroller good boy
stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
He entered quietly, doing his best to be unobtrusive and unnoticed. He studied them, the others there, his probably group mates. He felt good, his boots were well made making not even a whisper as he tread upon the ground and neared them. He was able to watch them all silently learning about them without speaking.

Eltaor turned to Maxwell with a curled smile, and waltz-trotted over to him with an eloquent bow Ha ha ha. Rude. I didn't intend it that way, not at all! Not. At. All. No- to be wealthy is good! I despise the stuff, but it's necessary. Trade, purchasing items, purchasing people. Yes. Regardless-

Eltaor recovered from his bow as he held out a hand to Maxwell I am Eltaor. Eltaor Toross.

Eltaor appeared to stare into Maxwell curiously, as if his brain was chewing over something, before yet another smile crossed his face Thanks to the recent conflict... You ended up here instead... Ha ha ha. You sound like you don't want to be here, Master Maxwell.

Now more quietly and to himself Eltaor grinned I wonder what power keeps you here, then.

Alistair looked uncomfortable at Eltaor's casual mention of slavery. Iuz had been dormant lately...but certainly not forgotten, the spectre of that tyrannical demigod drilled into the residents of the shield lands.

I know plenty of commerce. But the wise merchant watches twice and purchases once. He will look around the room and notices Cerian.

For instance that one, I bet you didn't even know he was here, yet he was, watching learning. Were he a merchant he would have good lined up to sell each of us, selling us what we already want without even knowing it.

Max gives a polite flourish Well...it was about time I took a break from full-time performance anyway. Tumultuous times - great events are brewing all over and they cannot be observed and shaped inside of a gilded operahouse.

Eltaor continued his grin and dark laugh Ha ha ha, let him watch. No one here can give me what I want.

Seeing the cheery young dwarf gave Eltaor a confused look as he approached him Interesting... you celebrate, yet we don't even know our mission yet. I am assuming you are just simply happy to be here, then, my dear dwarf? Ha ha ha.

Looking at the grim laughing sorcerer the dwarfs bushy eyebrows rise once before he ponders his question. Stroking his beard the dwarf waits for the right words before answering. "Well lad, of course I celebrate. I celebrate good workmanship, I celebrate the evening after an interesting day. I have an interesting idea. Grab a mug of mead, drink it and you will find many things rocking on your mind before are suddenly ... less important. Life is good at the moment. Tonight I sleep in a bed, I have no grudge to settle, no friend to mourn."

The room warms a degree as Ancharf enters through the door, most think nothing of it because of the rising number of people gathering here. He looks about the room keenly eyeing something on people's hands. After a moment he pushes into the center of the room still looking about, as if he lost someone or has yet to find them.

Eltaor frowned Celebrate... with poison? My my, what a mischevious and relaxed mind you have.... Ha ha ha.

Eltaor signaled to have the same drink Bonifacius the Bold was having, and chugged it all in one methodical, calm, relaxed, chug. Afterwards, following a long burp, he swayed a little, his frown continuing You see? You've poisoned me. Ha ha ha ha. Thank you for that, Bonifacius.

Eltaor than sat next to Bonifacius- the alcohol raging through his system, slowing his speech, but not his brain. Eltaor gave a semi-friendly tap on Bonifacius' shoulder What... do you think... HE would do to celebrate? Ha ha ha ha. Eltaor was pointing quite obviously at the unintroduced Anchard with a dark grin and curved smile.

He offered Alistair a polite incline of his head but still said nothing. In truth he had nothing really to say. His experiances in the world taught him to judge by actions not words.

After a moment he did finally say something though mostly directed at the dwarf.

It is a good day indeed, if you have no grudge to settle or no loved on to mourn.

"Poison, HA, now you wound me and slight my faith. It is the greatest gift the gods gave us. It takes the best the farmers can grow, the highest expertise of the brewers and time to make what you drink!" Looking at Cerian he points to another free place."You have understand it! Have a seat, have a drink!"

Maxwell gives Bonifacius a look Master Dwarf, are we not about to go work? Even in my line of work, it's not usually advisable to get toasty before you start.

Eltaor Toross gave a frown to Cerian I am... Confused.

On days most are happy, ha ha ha, I'm cautious.

Eltaor then gave a crooked smile to Alistair Well, we agree on something to start! Ha ha ha.

Eltaor still awaited to hear a word or introduction to or from Anchard, but none came yet. Seems like he only speaks when it is worth speaking- there might be an honorable member of this group just yet.

Eltaor then silently begins to cast detect magic around the room Come now, show me the power of the person who resides here as its power.

*I will spend all 3 rounds needed to focus in on the different strengths and auras, and hone in on the least common aura in the room.*

Should be noted that I do not know Anchard's name- his name is only used for the sake of narraration

Looking at Maxwell Bonifacius shrugs."Hanseath teaches us, that you can measure a man through three things! How does he fight! How does he drinks! And how does he loves! I doubt our patron wants a barroom brawl as our first meeting. And non of you two makes my rock to a stalagmite. Sorry boys, your beards are lacking and your breasts... too! So.. that leaves a mug of ale!"

'Where is this monk I'm supposed to meet here? Am I to wait all day or has he come and gone already? I'm not leaving to sleep on the streets without something to show for it.' Anchard eyes his gold-bronze ring. 'I wonder how much this would fetch me?'

The dwarf bursts into the room with a deep booming voice.

I be no one's lad, but I'll be happy to fight for ye. He then seems to take in the others.

Well what a right sorry lot I be seein' here! What be ye names then I can buy ye all a round!

You were ordered to be in the great room of the Hostel at dawn. You arrive and see your companions. As you sip berry juice and eat fruit you wonder what your first task shall be.
Kolwyk enters from his private quarters, adjusts his simple head wrap and beckons you to the side room in the hostel that used to house the orbs. The orbs are now gone, but there are six chairs for your use around a table. He spreads a map on the table outlining an area of the Flaneass. ”This map shows the Archclericy of Veluna. As some of you may know already the Archclericy of Veluna is a theocracy devoted to the worship of Rao, and ruled by the Canon of Veluna, a powerful Raoan cleric advised by the College of Bishops and the Celestial Order of the Moons. Veluna is divided into eight dioceses for the purpose of administering both church and secular functions. Be respectful of their laws. This is the Diocese of Valkurl.” he says pointing on the map. ”You are to travel from here to Devarnish guarding a merchant caravan, take the road south at Varlkurl through the Dapplewoods, and take the country road to Willows Hollow. While the merchant caravan is collecting a special type of darkwood grown there, you are to meet with an herbalist named Laurel. We have not heard from her in a while and would like an update from her. She also has some herb mixes you are to receive, tie to this carrier pigeon and let the pigeon loose to return back here. I will take care of the rest. If she needs help-provide assistance. If not, you can return. Usually she needs some strong hands to find the herbs and maybe beat back an orcish raiding party that comes down from the Lortmil Mountains. Sometimes she has troubles with Lortmil dwarf clans. Usually everything is fine though. Horse are in the stables for those that need them, just remember to bring them back. Any Questions?” Kolwyk is unsure of who to give the map and pigeon to so he leaves them on the table and exits after any questions.

Eltaor grinned Yes- in addition to a horse, I'd like a simple guard dog.

What dangers truly exist for us to prepare for?

Sense Motive on Answer: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

At Zorens arrival Bonifacius raises his mug in greeting.
"Welcome fellow, you are a dwarf to my liking!"
Next morning Bonifacius raises with the others and it seems as if he had not drunk one drop of alcohol the night before.
"Those Lortmil dwarfes, anything we have to know?"

While the others spoke he moved to the map looking at it... doing his best to memorize it into his mind. He then collected the map and the pigeon in its cage...

Rest easy little friend.
He said to the bird before turning his attention to the others.

Perhaps its a simple matter of the patrols of that land arent to be bought, whereas we are. Why are any guards used to hire a caravan. The roads are not safe in all lands, and he mentioned raiding parties of orcs, I am sure what forces they have are being used to do more than guard caravans.

He answered simply wanting to shake his head. He was not one for boisterous... and there seemed to be two of them. As long as they pulled their weight he could and would deal with them however.

I'll be in the stable deciding on a horse.

"Also those patrols may not help gathering herbs! I can´t wait to meet this woman. Maybe she can give me hints for a flavor. We will see!" Just before Cerian leaves the dwarf holds him back for a moment. "Please search one for me too. I am .. not good with animals!"

Eltaor frowns It is often the simple that are disregarded and overlooked, only to be dwelled upon as regret later.

I ask for our interests. And the caravans. Ha ha ha ha ha.

"One question yes. Payment for the escourt, herb delivery and assisting the woman, what do you consider a fair payment for this series of tasks?" Anchard says casually with arms crossed and headed tilted down to allow for a better look at the map, though his eyes peering up at Kolwk.

"The caravan is one of ours. Why trust someone else with our property. That is all you need to know about that decision. Are there any questions relating to the mission? You have already been paid upfront. More payment will be rendered upon the completion of the mission."

Eltaor- I thought you already had a dog.

Zoren pulls out a mug from the night before and downs its contents as the man speaks, then at the final question he slams the mug on a table.

Aye lad, I got a question for ye. When do we start? oh, an' I'll be assumin' drinkin' be permitted for the dwarves.

Eltaor nodded Very well. I will keep my eyes open.
And keep some of that dark wood for my new Master.

Eltaor then left for the stables to meet up with Cerian

So, then. Was deciding on a horse a simple matter? Ha ha ha ha. Simple. Like a dog's mind- isn't that right, Rexus? Eltaor said with a strange and unfamiliar attempt to be cute with his new guard dog.

Rexus was a German Pinscher that Eltaor had bought on the recommendation of Kelwyk from a local vendor-

Despite Eltaors general mood of cynicism, he was sure he would come to be quite fond of this "Rexus" over their time of travel.

If there is a black horse or red haired horse, Eltaor would fall in love with it immediately no matter its difficulty in handling

"More payment will be rendered upon the completion of the mission."

Anchard lifts his head to fully look at Kolwyk, "I do not mean to be confrontational with you. I intend to do the task, but yes, some payment I have received but you're being intentionally vague about how much we get on completion. I don't want us to misunderstand our relationship, I am here to work for you in exchange for money, influence or power, not something to barter at a later time. The roads are dangerous, my life at risk. Is it too much to ask for clarification on what I'm risking my life for? If you choose this time to show us to our place, and refuse to oblige a fair question such as what exactly I'm risking my life for, I'll gladly return your money in full. You could also threaten me, but I assure you in the long run, fear is the shortest lived loyalty."

The dwarf walks behind anchard and slaps him heartily on the back.
Lad, ye just voiced everything I love about adventure, hell, I'd almost be willin' to do this for free! Bwahaha! Don't worry yeself too much about them petty things, they'll come to ye in time, and I'd wager one day ye will be thinkin' other things more important. These folk be trustin' us, I say we ought to trust them this once.

"I respect your calling and agreeableness," Anchard says to Zoren, "But my calling leaves no room for one sided negotiations. I am not an employee or indentured servant. I am a mercenary in this city, hopefully a loyal one as mercenaries without loyalty are short sighted and lived."

handle animal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

He let his eyes run over the horses, moving slowly getting a feel for them and letting them get a feel for him. He was... looking for a spirited horse for himself, obviously for Bonafacius, a mellow horse. Having decided he began to helpfully gather the saddle and tack for the dwarves horse... He kept quiet at the other elves prattle, merely raising an eye at the dog then the elf and he shrugged.

Nature and animals are indeed simple... If one pays attention to it. Then again, the jungles of man have their own simple rules as well if one pays attention.

He said a little vaguely.

Alistair looks most pleased to be headed to the Archclericry of Veluna.

He produces a small wooden holy symbol and rubs it and then looks up to see everyone already scrambling to get ready

Are we allowed to pursue side projects or are we to simply focus on the mission at hand Alistair muses.

He goes and finds the mangiest horse he can find. This was a redemption story and those never began with the prince on a white horse leading the way. For now he would allow others to hold the reigns of this group.

@Anchard- "No one in their employment has ever complained about fair wages. Trust me you will be compensated more than enough... and I believe someone answered he would work for power, which can also be attained working here." responds Kolwyk.
@Zhoren- "I suggest you leave as soon as you are ready." still need Zhoren to place his marker on the map to where he is from

Who took the map and the pigeon cage?

"If there are no more questions, I ask you leave the briefing room since I have another group to brief." Kolwyk says.
As you all leave the room you see a party waiting in the great room. They enter the briefing room after you all leave.

I did

Eltaor grinned What a wise thing to say. And yet... Eltaor traced a finger along Rexus' snout and muscular legs For such simple things to have such power... This dog could snap my neck with a single twist. A pack of dire wolves, or stampede of horses, can kill almost any squad of knights. Yet we ride them. Ha ha ha. Power is such a relative thing.

Eltaor caught the group moving in to the briefing room and then slyly whispered to Cerian

Eltaor continued to pet Rexus And that's why I have you, isn't it boy?

He fondled his ring ever so slightly with his gaze as he pet Rexus and ruffled his cheeks in a loving fashion And why we have our Patrons.

Maxwell looks down on the others Well, if you want to collect your fortune you won't do so here in Greyhawk sitting upon your ever-growing arses. Let's get a move on

Eltaor hopped onto the darkest haired horse he could find with a frown Making a fortune is the least of my concerns. Don't you see fortune blinds us from our true goals? Yes. There isn't a thing I want less than that.

The horse and lighting made Eltaor's full plate armor gleam as if he were a knight himself, instead of a sorcerer. His Quarter Staff and Pack on his back, and Rexus to follow him, Eltaor moved his horse around a bit before pointing in the direction they needed Alright, very well. Majority rules then- everyone ready? Cerian, you have the map new friend, the power in this situation- perhaps you should lead the way? Your nature seems to suit that sort of thing, ha ha ha.

Oh! And Bonafacius, there is a spotted horse that appears to be just your type. Froth and beer and all.

Handle Horse: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Anchard thinks of possibly responding, but only nods a an confident nod, "Then I suppose we shall see." Then Anchard turned and proceeded to head out to join the others after gather a mount.

You gather your supplies, acquire your mounts and go meet the merchant you are to protect during the journey. The merchant meets you on his own horse outside the hostel and introduces himself as Kwizzle Mulligum. He is a male human who is finely dressed and has a very ornate sword strapped to his hip. After introductions are made, he leads you outside the City of Greyhawk to his waiting caravan of 3 carts and 6 hirelings (humans, half elves and half orcs). The caravan begins to move with him at the lead and you all charged with its protection.
The road to Devarnish is dull but safe. The caravan passes pilgrims, other merchants, armed patrols, and a few refugees from the south with tales of a humanoid army forming. the Wars have not started yet. Kwizzle talks incessantly about economics and trade filling the ears of anyone who will listen. While you surmise he is an able merchant his tales of defending his goods is met with suspicion as does his claims of being a capable fighter since he is more concerned with how he looks and keeping clean than getting his hands dirty by actually doing menial tasks. He even has a pillow affixed to his saddle for comfort.
You see Devarnish on the horizon after a few days of travel. The closer you get to the city Kwizzle informs you of what he knows ”Devarnish is a walled town of about 9000 people. It is the trade center for all of Veluna. Set in the eastern most point in Veluna, almost all trade from the eastern realms passes through Devarnish. The five ornate city gates allow the Count to closely monitor all trade passing through the Great Western Road and traveling to South East on the Iron Road. The City is set in a natural bottleneck cut by the Mill Stream through the Hog Back Ridge on its way to the Velverdyva River. Within the gates are the Veluna Markets where trade from across the Flanaess can be found. The market and the gates are strictly controlled and subject to taxes. Raw material from many sources are often combined here by the finest master craftsmen in Veluna. The concentration of Craftsmen has created powerful Guilds that control the workshops. All in all it is a good city, a social competitor to Greyhawk but none the less good for business.”
He leads you in through the Gate of Peace straight through the city and out through the Gate of Discovery. He was correct in his summation of the city itself. It is filled with craftsmen; many of the shops display exquisite works of their craft. You leave the confines of the city and take the road towards Valkurl.

perc: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Bonifacius will listen to Kwizzle and check for the telltale signs of a swordsman. Calloused hands strong wrists and the cuts you get during training. SM: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28