Qwerty's WOGH TM Gold (Inactive)

Game Master qwerty1971

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

Sitting at the bar at the Hostel is an average gnome with blue-grey hair, and the same color eyes. He is wearing a floppy hat that covers his full head. He looks like if you threw him into a pool that he might be 40 pounds soaking wet. With him at his feet is a grey and black wolf. She's a larger than normal wolf. the wolf appears to be content as it is gnawing on a bone. He looks up at the barkeep and out comes a booming voice for such a small fellow. in common "One more round keep, and another loaf of the brown bread and butter."
looking up as he hears foot steps he sees others walking into the great hall.

Gold Map is linked under my name. I have a map of Greyhawk there. please place your color token on the map where your character is from.

An Oeridian man walks into the Hostel. He is taller and stronger than most of his people. His brownish blonde hair and blue eyes betray his partly Suloise heritage. He is wearing scale mail over the plain, modest garb of a hedge knight, with a shield strapped to his back and an ornate helm under one arm. If he were to turn his back to you, you would notice that the shield is painted with the downward pointing sword of Mayaheine on either side of which is an uplifted crow's wing. You do not recall seeing this exact design before. Perhaps it is his personal coat of arms. The helm is ornate and includes a visor depicting the visage of a bearded man scowling. Though you see no sign of the animal, the man is wearing spurs and smells of horse.

He sits near the gnome, but not so close as to intrude upon the little fellow's space or invite conversation, and says to the barkeeper, "Good day to you. I will have a mug of beer and a hunk of whatever meat you've got roasting on the spit." His voice is courteous, yet possesses an air of authority most servants and peasants dare not ignore. He nods in greeting to the gnome, then looks around the hostel to see who else might be present.

Well, isn't this place busy.

The small, redheaded Suel at a lit table in the Hostel takes in the surrounding patrons, ranging from a gnome fellow who (somehow) managed to bring a wolf to the bar, and now a tall, armoured man dressed in ornate, well-polished scale mail. It makes her own red scale mail look quite plain by comparison.

Victrix looks down at her mug of ale and wrinkles her nose. It didn't taste anything like the the booze back home--it felt rather watered down.

"Well, that's puttin' it lightly. It's f%$~in' close ta water." She downs the rest of it and heads over to the bar.

"'Scuse me, sir, do yeh 'ave anythin' stronger than ale?" She leans against the bar, trying not to stare at the other people there (especially not that wolf).

I already made my purchases for gear & stuff, so my total GP is now 67.

The elven woman enters into the room with an otherwordly grace. Her hood covers her golden hair. She wears robes that are golden with strands of white and a deep purple cloak. People gasp when she removes the hood and they see her eyes, Purple! A faerie! One of the mythical grey elves is here. . She smiles as she approaches the bar, petting the wolf and orders, in the most beautifully accented Common, A glass of wine and a little fruit

A plain-faced Oeridian man, common as dirt, heads downstairs, looking somewhat unsure he's in the right place. His eyes dart from the enormous wolf curled up under the bar to the heavily armoured folk, otherworldy gnome and elf maiden. They have the rings on their fingers. It checks out. This must be the place. "Well... I'll be."

He pulls up a stool, flashing an apologetic smile to the barkeep. "Any chance of a hot meal, stranger?"

Purchases might take me a day or two more. I've hardly had a chance to sit down this week!

Victrix's angry outburst grabs Thrand's attention. He glances over at the woman, admiring her wild beauty and smiling inwardly at her strong language and heavy drinking. He is about to rise and approach her to introduce himself when Tanariel enters the Hostel. He thinks, "Purple! A faerie! One of the mythical grey elves is here." He hardly has time to bask in the otherworldly glow when an uncommonly common commoner enters the Hostel. Though the man is so very ordinary to look upon, Thrand cannot help but think that he looks familiar. "Inigo? No, no, it isn't him. The eyes are different." He nods at the stranger and takes another swig of beer.

The grey elf will take to a table to eat and drink and with her hood drawn over her head will look around.

Victrix looks up at the grey elf as she enters the tavern. Eh... huh. She's actually quite pretty. She shrugs and turns back to the folks at the bar.

Oh--the armoured one's got his eyes on me.

"See anythin' ya loike?" She quirks an eyebrow and leans against the bar, pushing away her empty tankard.

For half a heartbeat, Thrand looks like a deer caught in the light of a wagon's lantern. "Mayaheine's Spurs!" he thinks to himself. "I am caught! This is it: retreat or charge forward." He gathers his wits, his courage, and his mug of beer and approaches the fiery barbarian lass saying, "Yes, my lady. I do. I like your hair. I think that it is pretty. Red is considered lucky among the northern tribes, is it not? Some of my cousins are said to be redheads. I have never met them, for they live in the frozen wilds, and I have yet to visit that part of the world." Suddenly remembering his manners, he adds, "Oh, my name is Thrand, by the way, Sir Thrand of Prymlea Manor. Well, formerly of Prymlea Manor, now Sir Thrand of the Open Road. What is your name, if I may be so bold?"

...so, that's a yes, then.

Victrix smirks as the armoured Sir Thrand babbles. "Easy there--you'll pass out if yeh don't breathe."

"Anyway, name's Victrix. Called 'Bloodmane' 'cause my clan has lots o' gingers. Not sure if we're really blessed or not, but I like red anyway." She folds her arms and starts tapping her foot against the side of the bar.

Thrand blushes. He thinks, "Oh no, I've said too much! Or maybe I haven't said enough?" He takes a second to consider which is correct. "No, it's that I've said too much. But now I've been quiet too long. Say something!"

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Victrix Bloodmane."

"Uh oh, she's folded her arms. And what's with the foot-tapping? Does she want me to leave her alone?"

"So, uh, what brings you to the Hostel today?"

Tanariel and Rolfe, don't forget to move your dots on the Gold Map to show us where you're from.

"Me?" Victrix raises her hand and shows off her ring. "Got a job offer that told me ta come 'ere. What about you?"

Look at him blush. Has he really never spoken to another girl before?

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," thinks the hedge knight, growing slightly more accustomed to speaking with a woman who was neither a relative nor a servant nor a lifelong friend or acquaintance.

Thrand holds up his hand for Victrix's inspection. "Same here," he says. Then he looks around the Hostel wondering how many of the other patrons are here for the same reason. "I wonder if we are all here about this job. Judging by your armor and weaponry, we have similar skills. It's a shame you don't have a shield," he says, tapping the one on his back. "I am trained to fight in a shield wall."

Victrix jostles the greataxe at her side, and runs one hand along the haft of her heavy flail. "Don't need one. I prefer to cut 'em down fast enough that I won't need ta defend against somethin' hittin' back."

Out of the corner of her eye the elf will be sizing up the knight. If he looks to see her she looks away or acts as if she is interested in something else.

Kolwyk adjusts his simple head wrap and beckons you to the side room in the hostel that used to house the orbs. The orbs are gone now, 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 Kempton.” he says pointing on the map. ”You are to travel from here to Devarnish guarding a group of Halfling settlers, take the Great Western Road to Asnath, and take the country road to Shandalanar. The Halflings will continue to Shandalanar while you all will take the fork to Chesterhomme. There you will deliver this letter to a Doctor Phineus Krane who lives in the town. You are also to receive a magical dagger from another agent named Horvik. Horvik is a human male recognizable by the bright red feathers of varying shades affixed to his hat. He is a rather dandy fellow. Horvik will give you the dagger and you are to return it back to here. Horses 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 letter case to so he leaves them on the table and exits after any questions.

The elf will gladly keep the map and the case.

Thrand was about to take the map when Tanariel stepped forward. He was fine with that, but he did have some questions for the monk. "Brother Kolwyk, what news do you have of the road? Are there any known dangers between here and Shandalanar or Chesterhomme?"

Seeing the human knight approach to get the materials she will look at him from the corner of her eye and smile, lightly touching his hand as she grabs the items.

Thrand is taken aback at the grey elf's friendly overture, especially after so recently having been brushed aside by Victrix. He does not have much experience with elves, let alone with grey elves, so he really does not know what to make of it. He decides to interpret the gesture as a bid for friendship. When he is not talking to the monk, he says to Tanariel, "I am most pleased to meet a grey elf. I have heard stories, but you are the first of your kind whom I have had the pleasure to set eyes upon. I am Sir Thrand. It will be my honor to serve with you on this mission."

The elf will inquire of the knight Are you of the House or area of Prymlea or both? If I am the first of my my kind that you have beheld then I am glad that I am she and you have had the ability to see one of the grey elves, though you are a remarkable specimen of the children of men. she adds.

Victrix stares at the map before Thrand & the elf mage start conversing over it.

Well, might as well start up a conversation. Don't know why Sir Thrand here's giving me the cold shoulder. though.

"Can't say I've seen a grey elf before, either. Name's Victrix--and as the pretty knight 'ere said, we'll be the ones ta watch yehr back out there." She waves at her. "Who might yeh be, eh?"

"Straight through Furyondy, by my reckoning..." the field-hand says, scratching his rough stubble and making one last hopeful glance toward the kitchen. "Begging your pardon, milord, milady... not meaning to interrupt. Just thought I ought ta be introducing myself." he says, shifting uncomfortably as the temperature in the room seems to rise. "Name's Rolfe. Must say I wasn't expecting company quite so fine." he adds, trying to scrape a little of the muck off of his boots with his heel.

How rude of me, I have not introduced myself to any of you. Greetings to you Rolfe she says as she bends down to help him scrape the mud off of his heel. Straightening up and to you, Victrix, whose name means She who brings the Victory in Ancient Suelese. I am the Lady Tanariel Lantharien from Celene and am a former student of Her Fey Majesty, Queen Yolande, gloriously reigning.

@ Thrand-"The Great Western Road is well patrolled by Velunian forces. The obvious risks are sections in or near forests as brigands and the like are known to work those areas. From Asnath to Shandalanar is open road littered with thorps an farms. Fairly safe. I have never been to Chesterhomme.

Before the group enters the briefing room, another group of workers exits the room and prepares to depart.

Victrix is more than a little surprised when Tanariel helps Rolfe get some mud off his boots, and even more so when she addresses her.

"Oh, THAT'S what it means?" She scratches her head. "Huh. I was wonderin' why Mom named me that."

Okay, the background of my name I probably should have expected. Scraping mud off boots? Not so much.

Her lips quirk into a smile.

To think I was worried we'd have a priss on our hands.

Thrand responds to Tanariel's question about his surname, "It is both, my lady. Many human lords and ladies take their family name from the lands they hold." He blushes and is deeply flattered at the compliment about him being a fine specimen of man until he sees the grey elf scrape mud off of the unwashed peasant's boots. "What the..." His jaw drops and he hardly knows what to think, so he shifts his position (and attention) away from the strange elf woman as casually as he can and moves closer to Victrix.

"Hi, Rolfe." "I knew he wasn't Inigo." "We can always use a good bowman in case the enemy is up a tree or across a gorge, or armed with bows. I've tried training Valor to climb trees but he just hasn't gotten the hang of it... Valor is the name of my warhorse."

Noticing the action of the knight the elf will smile Do my actions disturb you. Thrand Prumlea? Does my attempt to make Rolfe feel less embarassed of his appearance bring me dishonor? Or to you for associating with us?

"If I 'ad ta guess, it's that he's not used ta seein' a lady do that sorta thing." Victrix shrugs and playfully pokes Thrand in the shoulder. "I got no problem with it myself."

At the barbarian's comment the elf begins to laugh.

"Victrix has the right of it, my lady," says Thrand. "I am unaccustomed to such a sight. I hope that I have not given offense."

None taken, noble one and I hope that I have not offered any to you. she says with a mischevious grin and wink.

Rolfe nearly falls over himself in fright as Tanariel kneels before him. "You gave me a start there!" Regaining his composure he rubs the back of his neck, colour rising in his neck as he begins to talk a little too quickly. "Well shucks, you don't need to concern yourself with me. I don't need mothering, milady. No offense meant, o'course."

Rolfe sets his jaw at Thrand's words. A fire flashes behind his eyes. He making a dig at me? I ain't some ploughhorse to be made light of by some lordling's son if that's what he's hinting at.

Easy Rolfe. Making trouble with yer betters is what got you into this mess. I'm sure he weren't meaning no offense. Shucks, these highborn folk sure are strange.

Rolfe stares as if in puzzlement at Thrand's comment before chuckiling heartily. (Perhaps a little too heartily.) "Ain't seen a real warhorse up close before. I think you'll find I'm a fair rider as well, milord. Might give you a run for your money."

You gather your supplies and then meet Magistar Tulley Whiskerfoot, the Halfling group leader. He leads you through the city outside the gate where 15 halflings of various ages are waiting with ponies and a few carts. Tulley explains the group left their shire down in the south after repeated humanoid raids, which have increased as of late. They were saved by an adventurer named Morgan Daggerfist, who said his employers would help them relocate to safer lands. Morgan led them to the city and then had to leave on another assignment. Now you are here to finish his task. The halflings are craftsmen and weavers and farmers, not warriors. Tulley gets his people moving as you make your way west.
You see the city of Devarnish in the distance. The walled city is large, not larger than the Free City, but still quite impressive. Tulley pays the tax for everyone to pass through the gate out of the small locked chest he keeps on his person. He does not let that chest out of his sight. That is the sum wealth of his small group he tells you. Passing through Devarnish you see it is a city of craftsmen and traders. All manner of goods are made, bought and sold here. Quite impressive for some people raised on the farm. The halflings are duly impressed and often unknowingly wander away from the group which forces you all to ensure they stay together and not get lost in the city.
You leave the city and start along the Great Western Road. This part of the journey is safe since there are many patrols that secure the trade routes from bandits. The patrols tell you the smaller roads are less secure so be wary and stay to the main roads if you can. You travel for another day until you get to the Asnath Copse. The town of Asnath is just on the other side of the wooded path, but the hour is getting late and the halflings are tired. Best make camp outside the woods than in them.
feel free to interact and RP up until camp is made.

Rolfe seems much more at ease once they leave the city walls, soothing his skittish horse as it shys away from their companion's wolf. His shortbow strung and draped over his lap, he sways in his saddle, making small talk with the halflings for much of the journey.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Dismounting, he approaches the others, beaming. "Helping good folk find their way in the world. I was afraid we'd be doing naught but glorified tomb robbing."

There are many wonders that can be found in tombs, Rolfe. Some of these wonders are best laid undiscovered for if the secrets were to fall into the wrong hands the consequences could be dire.

She spends the ride listening to the knight's stories.

Sorry for not posting till today, but I was really sick over the weekend, I am also traveling this week so I should only be able to post in the late evening. I am sorry about this right off the bat

Past tense
Garl watched everything go on from the elves and the humans hitting on each other the whole time. Just sitting there and waiting. He never really took part in too much of the conversation till the map.

looking at the map he followed the line indicted by the person and was a little confused. but never says anything

Once on the road

I ride Swift up front with a couple of the halflings, not saying too much just keeping an eye out. on the road

Thrand had meant his comments to be self-deprecating and illustrate some of the circumstances in which he and his warhorse would be useless, and he is completely unaware that Rolfe had taken offense. His interest is peaked when the peasant mentions his horsemanship, but the mission gets underway before the hedge knight has a chance to chat with him about favorite breeds or challenge him to a race.

Once on the road, the knight regales the grey elf with exciting tales about breaking wild horses, selective breeding, shoeing horses, saddle design, and jousting at the quintain. He throws in a story about the Great Pumpkin who comes every Harvest's End festival, and a story about a headless horseman who wears a jack-o-lantern in place of the head he was born with.

When everyone makes camp, Thrand sees to the horses' needs first, removing their saddles, giving them some feed, and rubbing them down.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (1) + 0 = 1 (sense that Rolfe is taking offense)
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23 (control horse near wolf)

The elf will smile at the mentioning of the Great Pumpkin and tell the knight, in the most polite way and flattering way that she can, that he is full of orc manure.

She watches the knight as he takes care of the horses.

Thrand laughs at the lighthearted insult and says, "Horses and pumpkins are what we do best back at Prymlea Manor, so most of our stories are about one or the other. Pray forgive me for not having better stories to tell. You must know a few. Tell me a story from the elf-lands, if it please you, my lady."

At the camp, he watches Tanariel watching him as he takes care of the horses. "Where are Rolfe and Victrix? Some of these horses are high spirited. I could use a hand."

As night draws near, the halflings build a fire, cook food that they share with you, and bring out a small casket of honey ale. Soon the instruments are out and the halflings are playing and singing some cute and bawdy songs. You are all invited to join in their impromptu celebration as they dance and sing for a while.

A somewhat tired & muddy Victrix settles in next to the fire with a mug of honey ale and starts chugging it down.

"Those horses can take a lot outta yeh. Silly things."

Horses I am not used to dealing with. Unicorns, and griffons and cooshee, however, have long been known to be allies of the elven people, especially the grey. We count a few metallic dragons among our allies as well. she remarks to the knight.

Thrand oohs and aahs appropriately at the mention of such exotic creatures. "Your homeland must be a wondrous place. I should like to see it for myself someday."

Having finished caring for the animals, Thrand is ready to join the halflings and the rest of the party for dinner. He says to Tanariel, "Come, my lady. Let us rejoin the others." If there is any clean water available, he will drink that, for he is 'on the job'. If not, then he will drink some ale. He approaches Victrix and asks, "Do you mind if we join you, my lady?"

@Thrand- some water can be found, even if one of the elder halflings creates it quickly, but you will get curious looks as few pass on good halfling honey ale.

Feel free to banter all you want, the halflings will be festive for a while then after a rousing song about Brandobaris they will retire to the beds and covered wagons.

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17 Perform Check

The grey elf will arise during the camraderie that is being shared and sing an ancient elven song that tells of two lovers doomed to love but never be joined.