RainyDayNinja's Untitled Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master RainyDayNinja

That's fine.

Jordon slowly sits up, grabbing his head. He looks to the door through squinted eyes and tries to figure out what's going on. He stands and moves to the door, saying to Vinny, "Gah, what?"

Roger'll just be at the bar, then, having slept the night there. I'll subtract the money spent.

Tobar rouses from slumber and waits for the excitable guest to respond to Jordon's question...

"Let me in!" Vinny shouts through the door. "I've got great news! I booked you a gig!"

Shrugging, Tobar opens the door to their hovel "Hold on a tic, I'll just get the rest of the band... after all, no business discussed without all rockers present."

Tobar then shoots off to the bar and removes Roger from the floor with a spatula, and then fetches Victor as well.

Jordon blinks heavily, holding his head. He says to the gnome, "Hey, what? Where did you book a gig at?" He isn't planning on telling the gnome that they will or won't do it without the rest of the band agreeing. He simply is curious.

" I don't wanna wake up for school..." Roger says as Tobar tries to prod him into getting up.

As he realizes where he is, he says, "Oh, my head. Did I at least win the contest with Rekkstuff? Surely, he can't hold his liquor as well as I? Oooohhhhhhh...... My head."

Victor comes running up to Tobar and Rekkstuff's place, and sees Vinny standing at the open door with Jordon.

"What's going on, guys?"

Vinny turns to Victor and begins speaking excitedly. "I realized what you guys needed was a manager. Since I owe you guys my life anyway, I thought it was the least I could do. And I found this."

He holds out a few pages crammed with tiny writing. "There's a gnoll settlement a few days' journey from here, called Gnashville. They're trying to make a new image for themselves by sponsoring the arts, and I booked you a show playing in the court of the chief! Isn't that great?"

Knowledge check (Nature?) to see what I know about gnolls:
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

"A what village?"

Jordon says to the gnome in an almost fatherly tone, "Well, that was nice and all, but did it occur to you that we might object to playing wherever you booked us a gig?"

Tobar has an incredulous look upon his face and a raised eyebrow "You got us a gig playing for .... gnolls?"

Roger, too seems dumbfounded. "Well guys? What are we going to do? It's nice to have a gig, but..." Roger trails off.

"Awesome knows no boundaries. Neither does music. We go. We rock their faces off. Then if they get too unruly, we beat the everloving crap of them! Why not?"

Jordon ponders Rekkstuff's rather philosophical answer, then replies, "Well, the plan was to go on to Barger City when we got the cash for it, but the city will be there in a week. I say we do this gnoll gig. It'll be good practice, after all, and maybe we can get a drummer there too."

He adds in, "And gnolls can't be any smellier than Squealy or Rekkstuff, right?"

Shrugging his shoulders "Sure why not, let's do it.... maybe best we leave Squealy at home though"

"Alright then. A gig's a gig."

Victor nods uncertainly.

"Well, sure, I'll go along with whatever. And Roger's right, a gig's a gig..."

He pauses, furrows his brow for a moment, then looks up and continues:

"But seriously guys, what's a 'nole'?"

"Man, I dunno." Rekkstuff replied, shaking his head. "...Oh right. Roger. Remind me to talk to you later. In private. Y' owe me an explanation."

"An explanation? Whatever, we'll get it sorted out later."

Tobar maintains an eerie and hopefully non-suspicious silence during Roger and Rekkstuff's verbal exchange.

The next weekend, after a few days of traveling by cart, you begin to see wisps of smoke rising from the domiciles of Gnashville. Dog-faced beasts toil in crudely-sown fields of grain, while children chase each other with spears under the watchful eyes of their mothers.

Vinny sits in the front of the cart, letting the horses drive themselves as he busies himself handing out fliers to any of the villagers that will take them. Before getting too far into the town, a squad of four soldiers stops you in the road, pointing their spears at the group.

"What is your business in Gnashville?" the leader asks.

Before the gnome can speak, Jordon says, "We're the bardic group Squealy Nord, and we should have a gig booked here." He looks to the soldiers, hoping that the group really does have a gig here, and this little gnome isn't just taking the group for a ride. He makes sure the gnome is within arm's reach, because if he really was just screwing with the group Jordon wants to make sure he doesn't get away with it free.

Tobar keeps his trap shut and contorts his body... attempting to look much stringier and less tasty than his bandmates.

Victor sees the opportunity to make a first impression in an entirely new demographic, and stands up on the cart, spreading his arms wide.

"Friends!" he begins, addressing the gnoll guards. "You are truly fortunate beyond your neighbors, for you have stepped forward to be the first to experience the greatness that will change your lives! Before you now is the beginning of a new era of mirth and delight! Before you now are the ones who will make your cares and worries fly away on the wind! Before you now is the beginning of an entertainment revolution! Before you now is... SQUEALY NORD!"

Diplomacy/Perform (Oratory):1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32

Jordon is very impressed by Victor's introduction; he even finds himself looking around for this awesome revolution until he realizes that Victor was talking about them. He is glad to have Victor speak for the group instead, and concedes to him.

Sorry, Tobar. I meant the other gnome, not you. I have no problem with you speaking, but Vinny seems to be rather hasty in speech and action, so I thought it best if he not do the introductions.

The soldiers chatter excitedly among themselves for a moment, then turn back to you. "We have been expecting you. Come, the preparations are almost ready."

They lead your cart through the road until you reach the mouth of a large cave. The entrances is decorated with carved bone and animal skins, while ceremonial torches burn on either side. As you travel deeper into the cavern, your eyes adjust to the dark. Narrow beams of smoky sunlight break through openings in the ceiling, and servants turn large animals over cooking fires. You can hear the distant sound of raucous laughter drifting out from deeper in the cave. As the soldiers motion for you to park your cart, several of the other soldiers and servants nearby watch you in awe (and a few others lick their lips while studying your horses with great intensity).

Vinny hops off of the cart and shouts, "The public awaits! Lead on!"

Tobar follows the others warily, neither first nor last in procession. He has his flute in hand and is nervously toying with the removable fipple.

Jordon stays close to the horses, seeing the hungry looks the gnolls are giving them. He waves to the public with a smile, though inwardly he's just as nervous as Tobar. Perhaps even moreso, given his lackluster performance at the last gig. He mentally readies himself for the night, going over the prepared songs in his head.

Roger walks along, waving to the public as well. I wonder what Rekkstuff wanted to talk to me about? If possible, Roger will try and take Rekkstuff's attention away from what I'm sure will be an adoring crowd, to finally have that talk while everyone's busy with the crowd.

Which actually serves as perfect timing, as Rekkstuff leans over to Roger and whispers to him. "Dude. You totally pulled one over on me last night. I didn't even catch how you did it! C'mon man. Did you pay off the bartender?"

"Did what? What would I pay off the bartender for?"

"C'mon man..." Rekkstuff playfully bats Roger on the shoulder. "Tobar told me about you slippin' something in the drinks last night to knock me clean out. I didn't think y'had the guts, man! What was it, anyway? I couldn't taste anything!"

Roger scratches his head. "I didn't put anything in the drinks, nor did I pay the bartender to, as far as I can remember. Granted, that isn't exactly far. I was never even told who won. I can't remember a blasted thing from that night."

"Wait. But if Tobar said you won, and you don't remember winning or doing any drink-trickery..."

There was only one possible conclusion: "Clearly a changeling must have jumped you after the gig, knocked you out, slipped something in my drink, challenged me to a drinking contest, won, and then pinned the blame on you!"

Rekkstuff pauses, a look of confusion on his face. "But... why? Who'd want to be the bassist?"

"Tobar said I won?"

In response to his newfound "theory" : "No, I definitely mostly remember getting to the bar, and I remember drinking too a point, and then I vaguely remember challenging you, and my first drink, but after that, nothing."

In response to his comment about the bassist, : "Rekkstuff, I'm still here."

Train of thought status: Completely derailed.

"C'mon man. I'm just saying. Your job is to like, sit there in the back and strum one note for a half hour. Sometimes you go up a note."

Jordon looks to the two and says, "Well actually, I won the drinking contest after you two lightweights passed clean out. Downed Rekkstuff's drinks no problem." He smiles at the two triumphantly, his smug grin daring them to ask for proof.

At Rekkstuff, he adds, "At least the bassist hasn't taken any band members out yet. Just sayin'."

@Jordon, "I doubt that very much, with your scrawny frame. You are correct in that I haven't killed anyone, though."

Now, Rekkstuff's comment, "Maybe they were trying to get closer to you, as they might've figured that none of the others would seem able to hold their liquor? They were going to drag you away, and take your place, but something happened? In any case, I'll be over there, on the other side of the wagon."

That should bring his Train of Though back on track. :P

Edit: Ninja'd, and text added to account for said ninja.

Because Roger doubts Jordon's claim, he leans over to Victor and asks him, still with a smug smile on his face, "Hey Victor, did I not polish off Rekkstuff's shots after both of them dropped like a couple of Elven wizards?" He forgets that Victor is half-elven as he says this.

Like a couple a 3rd edition wizards at that!

"CHANGELING!" Rekkstuff whisper-yells, pointing accusingly at Jordon. His other hand reaches slowly towards his guitar...

Tobar surreptitiously casts prestidigitation and uses it's effects to give Jordon an otherworldly glow.

"Oh for the love of..."

Victor shakes his head in exasperation.

"Okay, look. You both passed out in the first round of your contest. Tobar's probably pulling your leg again, Rekkstuff. He always does, and you always fall for it. Seems more likely than your bored changeling theory, anyway. And yes, Jordon drank your stuff after you passed out - which further proves there was nothing in it. Sheesh."

"But... Jordon's a human." Rekkstuff replied incredulously. "Everyone knows humies can't hold their liquor. And he's glowing. He's glowing right now! Humies don't glow either!"

Listening to Victor's explanation, Roger says: "Really? The first round? I guess we'll just have to have a re-match, then, Rekkstuff."

Hearing what Rekkstuff has to say of his race: "Rekkstuff, you realize I'm a human as well, right?"

Spellcraft for the prestidigitation effect: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

"Well, Roger, you're only proving his point with your inability to hold down a drink." Looking at his hand and realizing that he is, indeed, glowing as Rekkstuff says, Jordon exclaims, "Well, wouldja look at that! Tobar, wouldja quit muttering in some wierd language over there and look at me! I'm glowing like a desnan candle!"

He looks to the gnolls they pass by, then clambers atop the cart and strikes a fierce pose, using the glow to add to his impressiveness (though he really isn't all that impressive otherwise). He proclaims, "Good people of Gnashville! Squealy Nord has come to town, and we're going to rock you! Follow us for the greatest performance of your lives!" He smiles a conspiratorial down at the rest of the group, before hopping back down.

The soldiers lead you deeper into the cave, until you finally reach the court of the Chieftain of Gnashville. The huge dog-faced man looks up from the roasted animal he feasts on (with a knife and fork, thankyouverymuch), and shouts a greeting with his mouth full.

"Squeewhee Nohd!" he cries, raising both hands in the air in jubilation. A haggard-looking but young gnoll leans down and whispers something in the ear of the chieftain, who sheepishly swallows his mouthful of food before continuing. "Apologies for my manners," he says haltingly. "I heard of your triumphant performance at the festival, and I was ecstatic to hear you agreed to perform for our court."

He gestures grandly toward the stage, carved out of the stone and lit by crude iron braziers. Several dozen spectators are already arrayed in front of it, with a path cleared in the middle. "Do you require any further preparations?" the chieftain asks, "or are you ready to give us a show?"

Jordon's glow fades as Tobar turns his attention inwards once more. Funtimes over... time to put the game face on. This time he exaggerates the haunted aspects even further putting large shadowed bags under his eyes and making his teeth appear bloodstained. A use of haunted fey aspect plays up this effect. Once ready he moves to the stage and takes position, standing stock still facing out towards the crowd.

"Squealy Nord is always ready to play." Rekkstuff boasts, folding his arms. "Though. For the record. Any changelings we have may want to play better, because we've already lost one drummer due to keyboarding issues."

Jordon ignores Rekkstuff's comment and gears himself up for the performance, putting on his face paint and doing breathing exercises to calm himself down. When he's ready, his face is an impassive mask, revealing no emotions whatsoever. He stands in position on the stage, ready to start when the rest of the band is. Inwardly, he hopes they can do just as well without a drummer.