Age of Ashes Taban

Game Master katataban

Since the Breachill Town Council has been holding monthly Calls for Heroes for decades, a fair number of local traditions have built up around the event. One of the most adhered to is the visit to the 'Wizard's Grace', a popular local tavern. It's a great place to scope out the competition, schmooze with prospective hirers, or simply just have a stiff drink to work up courage before going into the town hall.

In times past, the Grace would be brimming with both adventurers and those in need of such, but in recent months, things have been rather quiet. Today only finds about a dozen people inside, and three of those are staff members. Six adventurers, including yourself seem to have answered the call. A varied bunch to say the least, in ancestry, attire and outlook.

Please feel free to introduce yourselves, describing your character.

The smell of Boar stew and lentils, the traditional meal served to prospective adventurers is filling the room. As Trinil Uskwold, the owner of the Grace sees the days catch of adventurers is light once more, she sighs. Then she walks in towards the kitchen in the back, coming out a few minutes later with half a dozen plates of stew.

A small, nut-brown gnome with a shock of electric blue hair sits cross-legged on one of the benches, braiding the long hair of a large dog lounging against her knees.
As the smell of boar stew enters the room, she sniffs, looks up, then jumps to her feet.

"I'd say there's boar in yon stew," she declares to the tavern owner in a squeaky, over-excited voice, "and you haven't skimped on the rosemary, neither. It smells great! I'm looking forward to it! I'd have added some plums though, for sweetness, and maybe held the lentils. They give you gas, you know!"
She launches into a monologue on the finer points of cooking boar, making very little sense, but filling her lack of knowledge on the subject with such a wealth of ridiculous assumptions, imaginings and obvious satire that you cannot help but be amused.

The dog sits there as its hair slowly unbraids itself, since in her excitement, the gnome forgot to tie it off.

Harley walks into the Wizard's Grace just as Trinil comes out of the kitchen. Looking around, seeing the rather empty common room, she frowns for a moment. A smile crosses her face as the little gnome, not a local it seems, starts her monologue. Though Harley is used to customer complaints, the clientele of the Pickled ear is a lot less eloquent.

Slowly she walks over to the centre of the room, where she sits down and looks around. If there were really this few adventurers, then she was sure to get some jobs at least. Perhaps enough to finally leave her current employment behind her. She wonders if any other locals are here to start their adventuring careers, perhaps even someone she knows?

"Now, now; it's considered rude to critique the food before you try it." offered the Half-Orc woman who was standing at the bar, conversing quietly with the bartender.

Even from behind it was clear that she was muscular, with the broad shoulders indicitive of her race encased in a suit of well (if not expertly) made breastplate armor. She bore no weapons, but as she turned to size up the original speaker, the small symbol of an open palm set in a circle and made of silver that hung from the Half-Orc's neck smacked quietly into the exact same symbol etched into the front of the breastplate.

"Besides, lentils are used commonly in stews in most taverns and inns, so I doubt the effects are widespread among the populous. Although" she admitted with a nod to herself "it could just be something that only effects gnomes. That would make for an interesting field of study."

A handsome blond youth is is talking to one of the staff:
"So there are these gates which allow elves to reach the ancient homeland of Sovyrian...
...Sovyrian is where the elves originally come from. What? I'm a half-elf! Well, two thirds but it's just easier to say half...

...Magic is just what we call supernatural..."

It takes him a while to realize that the server has already moved on to another customer. Oh well! He picks up his hurdy-gurdy and starts playing. The song is dramatic but not too intense. He wants to add a bit of life to this place without annoying the few people here.

A rather tall and pretty muscular half-orc enters the tavern. He has black, unkempt hair that almost cover his yellow eyes, and a hint of beard on his green chin. He is also well armed, with a longsword on his back, a shortsword and a dagger on his hip, and dons a leather armor. He also brings a full backpack with him. There is no doubt that he's an adventurer.

The half-orc halts on the doorstep and checks the tavern and its patrons: the place is rather empty, except for a bunch of people. A loud-speaking gnome, a halfling in scale armor, another half-orc at the bar, a bard with a strange musical instrument, and a girl. Well, if they are the wanna-be adventurers of this month, let's hope they are better at fighting than they look... he thinks.

He then walks in, looking for a quiet spot to sit down and wait for the waitress to take his order.

Baros shakes his head at the babbling on about the stew. "Well a little gas never hurt anyone," the brown haired green eyed Halfling turned to introduce himself, "but with that said, I am Baros, I assume you fine folk have come for the Call for Heroes also?" He adjusts his polished scale armor and offers a kind smile to the others.

Harley smiles at the halfling as he mentions the call for heroes. "Well, there isn't that much else to do here. Unless you're looking to be a lumberjack or do tavern work" She takes a small spoonful of the stew, savouring the taste before swallowing, then she looked at Baros again. "You travel far to get here?"

Karen glances at the small man, smiles, and says "I sure am!" she is about to say something more, but turns at Harley's mention of "tavern work".

"What's wrong with tavern work? It's an honest living"

Suddenly the music stops as the Blond youth rushes over to the halfling, the gnome, the two half-orcs and the barmaid.

"So this is the right place for the call for heroes?!?! Thank Desna, Calystria and Caeden! I thought I was in the wrong place!" He leans forward and whispers "There's hardly anyone here."

He is wearing a yellow and brown doublet over a plain white shirt. His loose reddish trousers and tucked into a pair of simple boots. Strapped to his back is what looks like a very long and thin scimitar. In his hands he carries the instrument he was playing, the strings seems to be inside while on the outside are a turnable crank and a set of keys.

Looking up from the plate of stew she had been shoveling down, the gnome blinks at the mention of the "Call for Heroes".

"Heroes? I can be a hero! I can totally be a hero. I can do cool stuff with air. From a long way off!"

She waves her hand and mutters a word, then blows across her outstretched palm. Seven feet away, the halfling's hair is blown into a windswept mess.

"Hero material, that's what I am. And so" - she gestures at the dog - "is Frizzy!"

Ok Cris, take a deep breath and introduce yourself, it's not that hard the half-orc seems a bit tense, as if finding himself in a tough social situation. He stands up from his seat and joins the group of wanna-be adventurers that is forming at the gnome's table.

"Hello, name's Cris, nice to meet you all" he says with a confident tone, but his eyes are looking in another direction than that where the group is. He seems a bit awkward, but his posture and voice are those of someone self-confident. He's strange.

Kari looks Cris up and down.

"You are TALL.
And big.

Are you a hero?"

She blinks.

"Sorry, misplaced my manners there.
Pleased to meet you, Cris!
Anyway, if you need someone to guide you through the forest, and maybe cast a spell or two, I'm your girl! So keep me in mind, okay? When you go off heroing and that sort of thing."

"Nice to meet you Cris....well, all of you, really. My name is Karen." says Karen with a smile and a wave.

"Karen, Kari, Cris, Harley and Baros," said the Blond. "My name is Ezya! Ezya Danver. Pleasure to meet all of you. I don't know what lies ahead of us but as long as the company's good, even the worst quest is still somewhat...," His train of thought cuts off as he suddenly looks around perplexed. "What happened to the music? I could have sworn..."his eyes widen as he suddenly returns to where he stood before. He turns the crank and presses the keys on his instrument and sings a mid-tempo drinking song appease his small audience. You notice a slight shimmer on his clothing and for a moment is seems as if there were a thin layer of crystal coating his entire person.

I'd like to make a performance check

Perform: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

"Not too far, I have on occasion travelled through town for work," Baros gestures to manacles hanging from the side of his backpack, "I always found it charming and figure it might be a good place to put down some roots."

As the adventurers are talking amongst themselves, the bells of the town hall start ringing, signifying that the call for heroes will soon start. The few regulars in the bar get up, and slowly start making their way across the street to the big hall where petitioners will officially request the adventurers' help. As they walk out, they each throw a copper piece at Ezya's feet.

You gain 5 copper pieces

Don't spend it all in one place!

As the bell begins to toll, Karen says "Let's Go!" and then picks up her pack, turns, and walks out the door without waiting, her step light.

Ezya picks up the coins and stares at them in wonder, as if it were treasure. He snaps out of his moment when he sees Karen striding off to the village hall. He gathers up his things and hastily runs after her.

Well, it's finally time thinks the half-orc. He waits for the others to move, to follow them at the rear of the group.

Baros files out with the rest of the patrons. Slinging his pack over his shoulders and steps in to the fresh air making his way to the big hall.

"Come Frizzy, time for a walk!" the gnome trills as she sops up the last of the stew juices with a crust of bread.
She runs after the others as the dog gets to its feet, its saddlebags jangling with whatever odd bits are hidden within.

Once outside, Kari finds Eyza and half-runs along to keep up with him.

"That was some performance! I liked the bit where your outfit turned all crystal the best. It was short, but really good. How did you do that?"

"Thank you! Actually it is not part of the act, it's my armor! Wait! Is it gone?"says Ezya. He stops and pats himself down. "Oh Thank Calystria, it's still there." The shimmer returns. You notice that it catches the light inconsistently. He smiles at the dog before continuing the walk.

As the party walks North towards the town hall they notice the large Well pumps just outside the town hall, seems the town may have had some fire problems in the past.

In front of the town hall a sizeable crowd has formed. Several kids, upon seeing the adventurers approach run towards them to gawk.

"So what sort of adventure do you think this might lead us to," Baros asks anyone nearby, completely oblivious to the goings on with the goblin.

The Goblin looks at Karen.

“You are adventurers! Are you not? You are just the heroes I hope the council might hire on my behalf. But please, there is a system in place for a reason. Come with me into the meeting and listen to my petition. If you are up for my task, I beg you to offer your services to the council. You might be my tribe’s only hope!”

Adventurers.
Heroes.
Even in Ezya's distracted, jumbled mind, the words stood out like comets in a crowded sky. The desperation in the Goblin's voice was so heart-wrenching. The would appear as gods if that was what she needed to see. He kept walking. The only way through life was forward...

...well not literally of course, there might be magic powerful enough for time travel. And Portals! Although one always wondered how those were made. Could it be...

Noon strikes and the gathered crowd filters into the building while the
children who have gathered run off to play. When you all enter the town hall, guards positioned at the front doors direct them to the council chamber, the entrance of which is just past the main hallway. Just before the meeting begins, the guards move to stand outside the chamber’s southern door.

Once inside the council chamber, you see that the room is set up as an
auditorium, with a carpeted walkway separating several rows of benches into two sections. The carpet leads to a small set of steps and a raised dais. On the dais is a large desk separated into five parts, where the Breachill Town Council’s five members are seated, talking quietly with one another as they wait for the meeting to start. On the desk, situated in front of each chair, are tarnished bronze plaques bearing the names of the council members. From east to west, the names are Jorsk Hinterclaw, Melma Ann Sendari, Greta Gardania, Trini Sprizzlegig, and Quentino Posandi.
Melma, Greta, and Quentino are humans, Jorsk is a dwarf, and Trini is a gnome. In all, there are 40 townspeople in addition to the PCs and the councilors assembled for the meeting.

With a sharp rap from her gavel onto the desk, a stern, dark-haired woman with a deeply furrowed forehead and kind eyes brings the assembled crowd to a hush. “Welcome, neighbors and friends...” the dark-haired woman begins, her rich voice washing over the room, “...to the Breachill Town Council’s monthly Call for Heroes. I am Council President Greta Gardania, at your service. On behalf of my colleagues beside me, I promise you all that we will hear and consider today’s petition with the utmost discretion and care. There is no existence without community, as our town charter says. Today, our agenda includes one petition. Miss Warbal, our very own ambassador to the Bumblebrashers of Hellknight Hill, requests the help of heroes for a matter of utmost importance. Let’s hear her concerns in her own words, shall we? Miss Warbal?”

At this summons, Warbal emerges from the front row of benches. The well-dressed goblin woman makes her way to the foot of the dais’s steps. She clears her throat and begins her address to the council.

“Esteemed councilors,” Warbal says, with a frazzled tone to her voice. “It has been more than a month since I’ve been able to contact the Bumblebrashers. I fear that something terrible has befallen them. What’s more, I have seen my people’s distress signal coming from the top of Citadel Altaerein—”

Before the goblin can continue her petition, the door on the western side of the room flies open, as a young man, his eyes wide with panic, runs in shouting and waving his ink-stained hands. Billowing black smoke and flames follow him into the room: “Fire! There’s a fire! Everyone flee!”

Instead of taking a seat, Karen chose to stand in the back and out of the way in a spot where she could still see, but was unobtrusive. She knew that there were some who decried her species, and she had no desire to quarrel with them.

As the meeting began, Karen, listened to the woman's petition with great interest, fighting to keep a smile off her face, and completely unable to keep a look of excitement from her eyes.

Like most people in the crowd, Karen's head snapped towards the door when the young man burst in; unlike most people, however, Karen didn't hesitate.

She strode directly out the door the young man had come in through.

Cris enters the room together with the others, and he too chooses to stand in the back of the room. This whole situation is making him a bit uncomfortable, but he knows it's the best way to get back in action after... Well, after what happened in the jungle. He shakes his head, as to drive away unwanted thoughts, and listens to the councilor and the goblin.

When the young man runs in the hall shouting, the half-orc quickly goes for the door. Before going out though he turns to the crowd and says with a rather calm and determined tone "Everybody stay calm! Panicking won't help anybody. Let us see what's the situation like, and we will bring all of you to safety."

That said, he follows Karen out of the room to see what's this fire like.

Following suit Baros heads for the door the young man came through, hatchet and shield at the ready, because fires don't start themselves.

Kari has been listening with rapt attention to Warbal's petition, when her eyes light up at the mention of fire. She makes her way to the same door, scanning the hall and the other side of the door for water, be it in basins, bottles, flagons, kegs or however else it comes.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9 I'm making a Perception check just in case there is any.

Ezya is wondering if he should be taking notes when the villager bursts in wailing about fire. Fire!!! He is excited. Is that appropriate? Of course, he's excited to help but his curiosity is so intense right now he might overtake the others to get outside and see what's going on!

He does however turn back and retrieve his Hurdy gurdy. He can't do any of his nifty tricks without it. At least not as easily.