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You find yourselves sitting comfortably around a large circular oak table, drinking the finest the inn has to offer in the portside town of Dublin. The aging innkeeper and his wife had let you all sleep here until you where to venture off to the "haunted" woods not far from here.
The inn is a two-story affair with the 2nd being a place for rooms and the 1st a tavern. The young bartender served drinks behind a high oak bar table. Along it sat stools on which where various kinds of bargoers. Otherwise there where a few booths and tables like the one you where sitting at.
A couple of young serving girls kept your mugs filled with your preferred drinks while you discussed your life stories and reasons for taking up the same job. Now was a time to get to know each other, for it was likely that you would be stuck together for quite some time. After leaving the safety of the town it would be your weapons and survival skills that made all the difference, and a big part of surviving is knowing your allies and how to work effectively with them.
(Please role play your characters using their personalities as good as possible as you introduce yourselves and strike up conversation.
Kyrd Roicha sits with restless energy.
"Այսպիսով, ինչպես եք անում, որովհետեւ այս մայրամուտն."
Mumbling under his breath he adds, "Nəhayət, mən ev tapa bilərsiniz"
Glancing into his drink, he looks around to the others, shifting his hair to cover his broken horn.
Deck lounges in his chair. He so often finds himself sleeping outside and has learned to enjoy the little luxuries to the fullest when the opportunity arises.
Այսպիսով, ինչպես եք անում, որովհետեւ այս մայրամուտն.
This lovely inn offers much better accommodations then I'm used too. I'm almost sorry we'll have to leave. Do you believe the stories they tell about these woods?
Deck waves over a server to top off his mug and starts rolling a cigarette.
unsure she slowly opens the door and enters the bar examining the place and move to sit by the barkeep she says
Moria scowled at the two men as they spoke in languages she didn’t understand. Her fist came down on the table with a loud BANG.
”Speak common so we can all understand. It does the party no good to keep secrets…or act superior.”
She leveled her gaze at Kryd as she spoke. He was the one either showing off or being difficult. Either way Moria didn’t see them getting along. Not that she had anything against Tieflings as a race.
Deck on the other hand seemed a more easy going sort. He too had spoke Elven but it seemed he had done so more to show up Kryd then anything else.
”It is…nice.”
She said commenting about the inn. Moris was sitting with her back against the wall her eyes scanning the crowd for any trouble, not that there was any. She felt confined here, even if it was a lovely inn.
”I believe they are fraught with dangers. So to some degree I do believe. However I also believe tales have been exaggerated.”
She looked to the others to see what they thought.
Glancing at the newcomer, Kyrd makes a quick glance at the rest of the patrons. Ես կարող եմ միայն հուսալ,
"So what brings you two out to this area, for work?"
Kyrd pulls out his knife and begins slicing a round of cheese that just arrived for him.
"My apologies lady, I was just inquiring of the morning, and relaying how excited I am to be here, and not still at the caravan I came in on."
Deck lights the cigarette.
My apologies darlin'. No offense intended.
I know it sounds a bit corny, but I'm here for the adventure. I've heard stories about this place and I'm lookin' forward to seein' if they're true. The chance to help build a new village is appealin' too. I've been wanderin' a while now and I wouldn't mind a little permanence back in my life.
When the server comes over to refill Deck's drink, he asks her to bring a drink over to Jathal at the bar. If she turns around he waves her over to the table.
Ikkath listens to the others, and finishes his water before speaking to Deck. “Likewise, I’m doing this for the challenge. I’ll be damned if there’s nothing but trees and dirt out there.”
He meets everyone’s eye and nods curtly. “Ikkath Onetooth. I study the way of the bow.”
Those around him can see that the half-orc is missing a bottom tusk as he speaks. Artistic scars cover the arms that rest on the table, and his dark hair hangs just past his shoulders. He wears simple, threadbare traveling clothes and the pack on the floor includes a quarterstaff and longbow.
Deck raises his mug to Ikkath.
In Common: To the thrill of the hunt.
In Orc: Cheers!
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The rambling and introductions cease as four men in full chainmail bearing the holy symbol of Gorum (god of battle) enter. One remains near the door and rests against the wall, one hand placed on the hilt of his longsword, one in a buckler, his eyes constantly scanning the room for signs of disturbance. Two more go and sit at a table two to the party's left. Both have a heavy steel shield strapped to their back and heavy maces dangling at their belts.The last, the obviously arrogant leader of these men, strides up to the bartender and demands something. The bartender seems to beg the man not to do something. The holy man roughly grabbed the bartender's shirt collar and heaves him over the counter and on to the floor.
The man turns angrily on the patrons of the bar. "This place is condemned!", he cries,"The man in charge here will not come out to see me personally to stand up to the charges we place against him. Therefore they must be true charges! Anyone who thinks differently, step forward and answer to the true law of this town!
Whispering too the table You'll get my back if this goes sideways right?
Deck gets up from his chair and turns to face the leader.
What seems to be the problem my good man?
“Zurihy,” Ikkath mutters, mentally kicking himself for being caught so unprepared.
“Surely.”
He calmly turns in his seat, so he could easily stoop to retrieve his longbow, but remains upright, watching for the leader’s answer.
Chuckling mostly to himself, "Against some 'müqəddəs' men? I'll drag them into the pits, myself."
Kyrd sits and stretches, thinking about the best way to fool with their minds; the best ways to break their spirits.
Kyrd's smile widens as he thinks.
As soon as the men entered the bar Moria smelled a shake down. From the way they held them selves to how arrogant the leader was. It mad her mad…they didn’t want to see her mad. When Deck whispered about having his back she nodded leveling her gaze at the leader.
”Place looks fine to me…”
She growls to the leader in a low tone.
she turns and faces the holymen prssing her hand against the sapling to calm its nerves and watches as the tension builds
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The leader slowly steps right up into the gunslinger's face.
"The problem's been stated clearly enough.", he says in a dangerously low voice,"Are you planning to defend this man?", he glares at all of you in turn. The leader then strides back to where he was earlier. He takes out a light crossbow at points it at the bartender's head from across the counter.
"Are you?!", he asks, in a louder voice this time.
“I believe,” Ikkath interjects sternly, “we would like to hear these alleged charges before committing any,” he glances pointedly at the crossbow, “rash actions.”
He folds his arms and keeps his gaze on the leader, knowing if he moved for his bow, he could count on a bolt in his chest.
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The Crusaders or "Holy Men" are knights who believe themselves to be fighting in the name of their particular god. They come with an array of weapons, but usually have something identical or related to their diety's favored weapon.
They think of themselves as the "true law" in a town, and so act as such. Their leaders typically falsely accuse individuals in order to throw them in jail and make themselves look good to their comrades, as this man is probably doing.
And what evidence do you have to back your claim?
"Assault is a crime too, ya'know. Senseless violence is nigh inexcusable, ye 'müqəddəs' son."
With a snarl on his lips, and his eyes beginning to smolder, he holds his hands hands under the table to hide his actions, and begins mumbling to himself.
Casts charm person [dc 19 will].
If that fails, will immediately begin casting memory lapse [dc 17]
Moria watched the exchange wondering is Deck could talk these jerks out of their seeming need to hurt the bar keep. When the light crossbow is drawn and aimed at the man Moria places her hand on her great sword. Clearly these guys were looking for a fight. She waited to see what would happen next if only to not get the rest of the group in trouble.
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Deck: That would be accurate, except no one is brave enough to challenge their "authority". He merely snarls at the demand for evidence.
Kryd: He is hit by the charm person and seems slightly more friendly.
Moria: I'd try a ranged attack to see if that would catch the man off guard so he might misfire and not hit the bartender. Then you should go in with your sword.
Deck tosses his cigarette away
I aint about to let a bunch of loud mouth bullies kill a man in cold blood. I suggest yall get movin before we have a problem
Deck cocks his rifle.
"I think you should listen to the man and be on your way."
Moria growled attempting to intimidate the man holding the crossbow
Intimidation Roll
The tense archer starts at the sound of the odd contraption in Deck’s hand and yanks the longbow from his pack and stands up. One hand carefully strays to the quiver on his belt as he watches the leader’s hand touch the greatsword. He glances quickly to the other three crusaders, uneasy about these close quarters.
"Surely, my friend. There is no need of a rukus. Maybe its better that we let these patrons enjoy their drink. So why doncha just apologize and walk out."
Cha:
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You're actually within 15 feet of him at the most.
The room is 25 feet (5 five ft sq) wide by 50 (10 five ft sq) feet long.
A1: EMPTY
A2: KITCHEN DOOR/BARTENDER
A3: EMPTY
A4: DOOR LEADING UPSTAIRS
A5: EMPTY
B1-B3: BARTABLE
B4-B5: EMPTY
C1: EMPTY
C2: TRIUS (CRUSADER SERGEANT)
C3-C5: EMPTY
D1-D3: EMPTY
D4: DECK
D5: EMPTY
E1: CRUSADER
E2: TABLE
E3: KRYD
E4: TABLE
E5: IKKATH
F1: FIREPLACE
F2: CRUSADER
F3: EMPTY
F4: MORIA
F5: EMPTY
G1-G5: EMPTY
H1: EMPTY
H2: TABLE
H3: EMPTY
H4: TABLE
H5: EMPTY
I1-I5: EMPTY
J1-J2: EMPTY
J3: MAIN ENTRANCE
J4: CRUSADER
J5: EMPTY
The instant the leader's hand touches his sword, Deck levels his rifle and fires.
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Small chain links fly away as two fist sized splotches of blood sprout from Trius's stomach area.
He falls against the bartable crying out in surprise and pain. His vision grows fuzzy and he picks himself up, only to slump down again, sitting on the floor wit his back resting on the side of the one-piece table. Blood dribbles from one corner of his mouth as he groans, then gasps and stops breathing all together. (That was exactly what you needed to put him down. Don't underestimate yourself. That was like something straight out of a movie!)
All crusaders left are left dumbfounded and astonished at the spectacle they had just witnessed. They fled in terror, fearing the rest of the party to be as outstanding as the one holding the musket.
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Good. You took care of a pretty big threat in much shorter time then expected, bypassing a hard and long encounter by instant-killing the boss. Now it's really up to the players how slowly they want to get on with the forest watch. You can do whatever you want for a bit proceeding, or you can just head right up there. It's all on you guys.
The half-orc watches the other three bumble out of the tavern. He turns and nods to Deck, “Well done, human! What do you call yourself, and what is that?”
Ikkath points to the smoking thunderstick in the human’s hands.
Kyrd stares at the man with a pair of holes in his chest, and begins cackling. Calming himself he begins searching the corpse humming discordiantly.
If he finds any holy symbols,
Thank ya kindly. My name's Deck. offers hand And this, indicating to his musket is called a...
Deck trails off as he notices Kryd starting to melt the holy symbol.
Beg pardon, friend, but is that necessary?
Moria is more then a little gob smacked when Deck takes out the leader in one shot. She watches as the other three cowards run away. With a smile on her face she nods to Deck.
“You are a good shot. I am glad you are with us.”
She watches as Kryd loots the body then defaces it. Moria cringes a little but dose not abject.
”We should get moving. In case the others come back with friends.”
While she would not shy away from battle she did not want to tax the group with a fight that might be too much for them.
Ikkath shakes Deck’s hand, and nods to Moria as he shoulders his pack. “Agreed.”
The archer quietly regards the mage’s actions with mild interest before looking over the rest of the dead man’s belongings. “I have little use for any of these, save maybe the gold, but this wasn’t my kill. Anyways, I’m ready to leave.”
He stands about ten feet from the door, keeping a relaxed but alert watch on the entrance while waiting for the others.
"This bag of 'müqəddəs' flesh? It is just meat. But this way, maybe his 'God' can recognize what kind of creature he has. His god could not save him from your, rather well placed I must say, shots. He desecrated the idea of an individual's dignity, assaulted the barkeep with little provocation, and would have slain us in our sleep if given a choice.
He was nothing than a bully hiding behind the facade of following some god. A pity those others ran, but perhaps this way they can have a chance to learn from this meat's mistakes."
Kyrd stands up and chuckles to himself. "Take the things, leave them. I do not think I will need them."
He may not have been the best of men, but there's no call for desecrating his remains. If not for him, for them that care about him. They deserve a proper burial and proper closure.
Deck removes the dead mans equipment and hands the crossbow and chain mail to the bartender.
Sorry for the mess friend. Selling the crossbow should cover the clean up and you can hang the chain mail above the bar as a warning to those that come looking for trouble. Any of his buddies come lookin for me, you let them know where to find me.
He slings the great sword over his shoulder and walks over to Ikkath.
Ready to go when you are friend.