Seltyn decides to ignore the immature half orc, and seeks more intelligent conversation with better people.
He introduces himself to Eldric.
I think these people need someone to motivate them to care for those with the least access to water, particularly the barkeep. Do you think you could persuade him to help?
”It is to your credit that you care so much for the people. I can tell that you are motivated by more than mere gold. Naturally, I will speak with him. But I fear now is not the best time. As you can see, the tavern is busy, which means that his mind will be on the patrons who can pay. This will be his most stressful part of the day, so getting his attention will not be easy and any argument made will fall on distracted ears. I believe it best to speak with him when the light dims and the traffic slows. That is when The Light will glow brightest.” Eldric responded.
Watching the man get up, Alistair follows...curious about where he would be going and, truthfully, to get out of the overcrowded room.
He listens to the Paladin offer his services to help the refugees and steps forward to address the guard as well.
"I too would like to help", he says with a sheepish grin towards the holy warrior.
"Sorry, I did not mean to intrude, but it was getting much too crowded in there, and I am sure my skills could be used to help the less fortunate among us. Even if it is only keeping them dry and warm!"
Horek nods at the dwarf and sits down beside his new companion, glancing at the others whose argument seems to have paused for the moment at least, he turns back to Mazrak. "Why is it that your clan calls you Forlorn? Ogreslayer I can understand, and I'll buy you a mug so we can drink to your deeds." The plainsman signals for two drinks and a bowl of whatever passes for stew in this place.
Mazrak will look at his jug, "My clan thinks that I am mad. They accuse me of constantly talking to myself. But that is not it. They just don't understand. Also, things happen around me. Sometimes I can be a bit..." Just as the Dwarf says this the jug spins away from Mazrak and crashes to the floor. It shatters into many pieces. But Mazrak continues, "clumsy." The Dwarf Oracle just lets out a sigh. He then goes to gather the pieces as best he can.
Once gathered, Mazrak will look at Horek, "It looks like I could use another mug."
Horek's dark eyebrows raise slightly at the strange event of the mug spinning away from the grasp of the dwarf. But the young ranger has seen much in his last few years and he accepts the phenomenon without the fear and mistrust that a good many of his clan would have.
Signaling the barmaid for two more drinks, the plainsman takes one for himself and sets the other firmly before Mazrak. With a slight smile, he advises the dwarf. "Perhaps you should keep your fingers wrapped firmly around the handle. At least until it's empty."
Watching the man get up, Alistair follows...curious about where he would be going and, truthfully, to get out of the overcrowded room.
He listens to the Paladin offer his services to help the refugees and steps forward to address the guard as well.
"I too would like to help", he says with a sheepish grin towards the holy warrior.
"Sorry, I did not mean to intrude, but it was getting much too crowded in there, and I am sure my skills could be used to help the less fortunate among us. Even if it is only keeping them dry and warm!"
Fergus gives Alistair a nod and an approving grin. "Good deeds need no apology! And two is always better than one." He turns back to the guard..."Make that two of us interested!"
”It is to your credit that you care so much for the people. I can tell that you are motivated by more than mere gold. Naturally, I will speak with him. But I fear now is not the best time. As you can see, the tavern is busy, which means that his mind will be on the patrons who can pay. This will be his most stressful part of the day, so getting his attention will not be easy and any argument made will fall on distracted ears. I believe it best to speak with him when the light dims and the traffic slows. That is when The Light will glow brightest.” Eldric responded.
Very well.
Satisfied, Seltyn gets another ale.
Vrianna nods once to Mazrak as she cautiously watches the rest of the table, aware of many eyes and whispers now on the group, for good or ill.
"Greetings to you, Mazrak. I came here not for the proclamations but with the tide of people, but there is only so much that can be done." She says, indicating the blade sheathed on her back.
"And it seems now that a different course of action is to be taken, if your talk of giants and ogres is correct."
Fergus listens to the conversation and at times arguing going on around the tavern when he realizes the weather has started to turn sour.
He stands up and pats Alistar on the shoulder. "Be right back." He makes his way to the Crown Guard at the door. "Good day man. It is honor to be among the finest men of the Keoland again."He says with sincerity as he gives the man a confident but friendly smile. He puts out his open hand to shake the guard's hand. "I am Fergus of Woodsage and loyal subject to King Skotti. You have your hands full I see and it looks like bad weather is rolling in. I have had some experience with refugees while on the Wild Coast. I am sure the Guard is up to its neck managing the watch on the border and the peace in the village. Who is in charge of the care of the those fleeing from Sterich? Is there any temple's assisting in their needs?" He looks around the tavern at all the good men and women who have come to lend aid in the fight against whatever lurks beyond the borders of Sterich and back at to the guard. "If there is a need for my assistance I would be willing to offer it to those that are in charge of their care. Is there someone I can speak to about forays across the border as well? I intend on joining up with a company of brave souls to lend whatever assistance I can to help these people."
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+11
[dice=Know(Nobility)]1d20+6
[dice=Know(Religion)]1d20+5
The crown guard is a little flustered. ah, thank you sir knight. I'm certain people are preparing, but if needed your help would be invaluable.
The barmaid gives a cry at the breaking of the jug, and moves over to help clear it.
worry not sir, she says to mazrak this happens regularly. I'll have it cleaned in a jiffy.
The crown guard is a little flustered. ah, thank you sir knight. I'm certain people are preparing, but if needed your help would be invaluable.Fergus listens to the conversation and at times arguing going on around the tavern when he realizes the weather has started to turn sour.
He stands up and pats Alistar on the shoulder. "Be right back." He makes his way to the Crown Guard at the door. "Good day man. It is honor to be among the finest men of the Keoland again."He says with sincerity as he gives the man a confident but friendly smile. He puts out his open hand to shake the guard's hand. "I am Fergus of Woodsage and loyal subject to King Skotti. You have your hands full I see and it looks like bad weather is rolling in. I have had some experience with refugees while on the Wild Coast. I am sure the Guard is up to its neck managing the watch on the border and the peace in the village. Who is in charge of the care of the those fleeing from Sterich? Is there any temple's assisting in their needs?" He looks around the tavern at all the good men and women who have come to lend aid in the fight against whatever lurks beyond the borders of Sterich and back at to the guard. "If there is a need for my assistance I would be willing to offer it to those that are in charge of their care. Is there someone I can speak to about forays across the border as well? I intend on joining up with a company of brave souls to lend whatever assistance I can to help these people."
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+11
[dice=Know(Nobility)]1d20+6
[dice=Know(Religion)]1d20+5
"You are doing the best you can considering what you face good man. If you could get word to those authorities that you have folk in this tavern prepared to help if called. I, Alistair, and a good many of these brave souls would lend aid where we can." He turns to leave and lets the man go back to his duties and makes his way back to his table.
Signaling the barmaid for two more drinks, the plainsman takes one for himself and sets the other firmly before Mazrak. With a slight smile, he advises the dwarf. "Perhaps you should keep your fingers wrapped firmly around the handle. At least until it's empty."
Mazrak looks at Horek, "If it was only that easy."
Mazrak appreciates help from the Barmaid, "You are very kind. I am Mazrak. May I know your name?"
"And it seems now that a different course of action is to be taken, if your talk of giants and ogres is correct."
Well lass, I fear it is correct. And the best course of action is to take the fight to the giants. And the sooner the better, or this problem will only get worse."
Elnaril rides into the village of Garethsford, trying to beat the coming storm. He is followed by a scaled beast not much smaller than his horse with wings and fangs aplenty but strangely acting more like a large dog than the proud and noble dragon it resembles. Refugees scramble out of the way of the creature as Elnaril smiles and nods at people trying to calm them.
He stops outside of the only tavern in the small village and dismounts before the guards have the time to question him. With a flash the horse vanishes leaving only the pack it carried in the half-elves hands.
"Parvo I'll call you when I find a place to sleep for the night."
He looks around at the swelling of human tragedy near him and grimaces.
"IF I find a place to sleep for the night."
After he finishes speaking to the small dragon he places the pack on it's back and it fades into a soft glow that is drawn into Elnaril's forehead. He turns to move into the crowded tavern under the suspicious glares of the crown guard. When he enters he surveys the noise-filled room with a soft whistle and pulls his hat further down his head trying to hide the mystical brand that softly glows under it.
He tries to capture the attention of the harried barmaid in vain until he gives up and attempts to find an empty seat at a table.
Elnaril rides into the village of Garethsford, trying to beat the coming storm. He is followed by a scaled beast not much smaller than his horse with wings and fangs aplenty but strangely acting more like a large dog than the proud and noble dragon it resembles. Refugees scramble out of the way of the creature as Elnaril smiles and nods at people trying to calm them.
He stops outside of the only tavern in the small village and dismounts before the guards have the time to question him. With a flash the horse vanishes leaving only the pack it carried in the half-elves hands.
"Parvo I'll call you when I find a place to sleep for the night."
He looks around at the swelling of human tragedy near him and grimaces.
"IF I find a place to sleep for the night."
After he finishes speaking to the small dragon he places the pack on it's back and it fades into a soft glow that is drawn into Elnaril's forehead. He turns to move into the crowded tavern under the suspicious glares of the crown guard. When he enters he surveys the noise-filled room with a soft whistle and pulls his hat further down his head trying to hide the mystical brand that softly glows under it.
He tries to capture the attention of the harried barmaid in vain until he gives up and attempts to find an empty seat at a table.
As you approach several crown guards half draw their weapons
After you enter, one follows you and confers with the one at the door.That one carefully watches you after.
Signaling the barmaid for two more drinks, the plainsman takes one for himself and sets the other firmly before Mazrak. With a slight smile, he advises the dwarf. "Perhaps you should keep your fingers wrapped firmly around the handle. At least until it's empty."Mazrak looks at Horek, "If it was only that easy."
Mazrak appreciates help from the Barmaid, "You are very kind. I am Mazrak. May I know your name?"
Sally, Sir. It's Sally. Thank you for asking
She quickly finishes cleaning, the bustles off to bring another to jugs of ale to the tableOutside a gentle rain begins to fall, just on dusk. The thunder booms louder.
I've heard that storms can sometimes be fierce here. Let's hope that's not the case tonight, The elf says, to no one in particular.
He finishes his drink and moves towards the exit, to get a better sense of the coming storm.
All these people, with no shelter...
Istivin was several days travel from Fenla's small town. On the way she stopped in the small village of Garethsford. Fenla was shocked to see the usually small and quiet town bustling with people and activity. She noticed the Lion banners Keoland immediately. It appeared as though a large military operation had been setup. The number of tents and extra people was staggering. With her small stature, Fenla found herself being bumped into and people stumbling over her. Frustrated she cast a spell on herself in the middle of the crowd, suddenly doubling in size. She found the towns tavern amidst the chaos and retreated inside. She maintained her large form until she entered the tavern which was also teeming with people and noise. As she sat down in a comfortable spot she shrunk down to her normal size.
Once seated Fenla noticed the barmaid cleaning up a broken jug. Fenla leaned over to her and said in a quite voice barely discernible over the noise "My dear... when you have a chance could you bring me a glass of Brindleberry Wine? And what is going on in this town? I have never seen it like this!"
Outside a gentle rain begins to fall, just on dusk. The thunder booms louder.
With the rain beginning to fall, Vakmu announces to the table, "All right, Mazrak, anyone else who wants in on my offer of a roof, I'm going now."
Vakmu gathers his gear and heads out the door, going up, away from the river and the people. Obviously, anyone who wants to can come along.
When he gets couple of hundred feet uphill, he will cast Sylvan Hideaway, at it's maximum 12 person size. He will settle for the night, taking the time to smoke a good pipe.
Before he goes to sleep, he will use Ritual Hex to grab the slumber hex for another 24 hrs.
He needs to make 4 checks (all at DC 20), 2 K Arcana (+13), and 2 K history (+13), he needs to succeed at 2 of them for the ritual to succeed. He will use his memorized fallback strategy spell for a re-roll if necessary.
He succeeds without needing fallback strategy.
He will sleep off the hour's fatigue afterwards(overnight), with his familiar keeping watch. With his ring of sustenance, he only needs 2 hrs of sleep a night, so he will spend some time lazing about, smoking his pipe and reading poetry (hedonist drawback).
Istivin was several days travel from Fenla's small town. On the way she stopped in the small village of Garethsford. Fenla was shocked to see the usually small and quiet town bustling with people and activity. She noticed the Lion banners Keoland immediately. It appeared as though a large military operation had been setup. The number of tents and extra people was staggering. With her small stature, Fenla found herself being bumped into and people stumbling over her. Frustrated she cast a spell on herself in the middle of the crowd, suddenly doubling in size. She found the towns tavern amidst the chaos and retreated inside. She maintained her large form until she entered the tavern which was also teeming with people and noise. As she sat down in a comfortable spot she shrunk down to her normal size.
Once seated Fenla noticed the barmaid cleaning up a broken jug. Fenla leaned over to her and said in a quite voice barely discernible over the noise "My dear... when you have a chance could you bring me a glass of Brindleberry Wine? And what is going on in this town? I have never seen it like this!"
Sally the barmaid doesn't seem to hear your request. The background noise and your soft voice could be one cause, or perhaps that you are not that visible, being a Halfling. Or she isn't that observant
Between the storm the crowd and the general mood, it didn't seem likely that much would be done, but Vrianna still wanted to offer her blade before the opportunity passed her by.
"If you are willing, Mazrak, I offer my blade in assistance. If I cannot ease the suffering of these people through mercy, then removing the source of danger is the only option."
When the Barmaid offers her name, Mazrak will say, "Well met, Sally! You served us well. I will look forward to my next visit."
When Vakmu offers shelter, Mazrak will look at Vrianna, "Well Lass, I could use the company. Would you join us for shelter? Anyone else?"
Mazrak will look at the Catfolk, "Ranqar you say. Come and tell us about your kind." The Dwarf has heard of people like Ranqar, but has never before seen one. The Oracle's curiosity needs to be quenched.
Ebixus looks out at the lashing rain and driving wind, then turns and grins at the shaman.
"I'll gladly take you up on that offer, Vakmu. Thank you. The nastiness outside wouldn't be an actual danger to me, but theres no sense getting cold and wet if you can avoid it."
The blue eyed man heads out with the elf and anyone else heading out to sleep underground.
Having chosen to listen to the negotiations and posturing instead of continuing to participate, the Baklunish priest nods. "Yes, I suppose it is time to seek what shelter we can through the storm. I imagine some will stay here and pay for a dry corner, maybe near the fire. I believe better men will help those huddled in the cold, under little more than soaked sheets, find a better way to spend the night, at least for now." He gathers his things and heads for the door, bowing against the wind and rain as he begins his slow trudge through the storm.
When he reaches one of the back corners of the refugee camp, where the resources are poorest, he stops, reaches for his silver holy symbol and prays, briefly, in Ancient Baklunish. A mound of webbing grows from the ground near him, pushing up until it looks like a traditional yurt, far bigger than a traditional traveling yurt, but just a little smaller than normal permanent ones. He opens the door and turns to the people close to him. "Please, come in. It is dry. It will be warm once we are inside. Please, come get more comfortable, at least for one night."
After he manages to fill the temporary, magical yurt with refugees, he starts walking to the other out-of-the way corner of the refugee camp, away from the river and other resources, but still crowded with people going cold and hungry. He repeats the conjuration of the webbing yurt, and the call for people to join him in the dry warmth it will provide. This time, he crawls into the yurt with the refugees, and tries to get the rest that he can.
Seltyn follows Naji.
I can also create a shelter. My only stipulation is that I'm given a little peace to prepare spells in the morning.
Near where the yurts are, Seltyn uses his ring to cast Secure Shelter.
There are 8 beds, but they can fill them with kids, and as many adults as can squeeze in can sleep on the floor.
I'll see you in the morning, Naji. We'll find the others and get to fighting monsters.
Seltyn will further cast Prestidigitation to give everybody a magical bath and laundry service, if they're not too scared to let him.
Fenla sighed loudly as she realized her words to the barmaid were drowned out by the crowd. The small Gnome looked at the bar and the crowd in between and decided to try heading to the bar instead. As she manoeuvred deftly through the crowd she heard talk of ogres and giants. She saw people holding the same proclamation she had seen in their hands, talking of how they would spend their reward money. Fenla could have sworn she even heard someone dare mention Luz the old one. She shuddered having been taught to never say that name aloud. And loud boom of thunder followed. They would bring the wrath of Luz upon all our heads... she thought to herself.
Reaching the bar where no stools were available Fenla whipped the ladder from her back around and landed it flush with the top of the bar. She quickly climbed to the top trying to get the bartenders attention.
Fenla finally gets some service, but is told what she wants, wine of a rare sort, is not available. Just ale, really.
Elnaril takes the opportunity of some of the travellers heading out into the storm to grab an empty chair and call the barmaid for food and drink before trying to find his own shelter for the night.
"Miss, could I get some warm food and a hot drink? The weather is terrible out there and I wasn't expecting a storm."
Looking around at the people still in the tavern Elnaril tries to warm up the conversation that seemed to enter a lull after he came in.
"So I take it that most people here are responding to the proclamation from King Skotti? Does anyone know what he actually wants us to fight? It just has vague mentions witcheries and majiks."
The proclamation is pinned to the Inn's wall if any wish to see it.
“The land of Sterich has been placed in dire danger that exceeds the abilities of ordinary levies and mercenary troops to contain. Foul witcheries and great malign magicks have conspired to destroy this noble state. It is, therefore, my wish and thus my will that all such goodly men and women and those of demi-human standing hie with all due haste to Istivin to aid in the repelling of this great danger”
“Those who choose to come to the aid of this land in its time of need shall be rewarded with the treasure of the creatures they defeat, without tax or surcharge by the crown. Also, those who join this noble effort will be forgiven debt to the crown and will be pardoned of any criminal acts less than treason or blasphemy on a successful conclusion. Those who choose to abandon this land in its time of need, or to flee or aid the forces of darkness, will be cursed in the eyes of the kingdom, and held as traitors.”
“By my hand, my wish and will, and with the stamp of the signet ring that is the seal of my power
Kimbertos Skotti, King of Keoland, Lord of the Gran March, Plar of Sterich, and Protector of the South.”
Horek glances up at the newcomer, nodding to the half-elf as a good number of the other adventurers begin to clear out ahead of the quickly advancing storm. "I have battled against many of the giants and their allies in the past years - an invasion that has recently come to the lands of Sterich. It is said by many that other creatures roam the night, and all of this had driven the good folk of Sterich into Keoland. I am no mage, but I would not be surprised to learn that some dark magic is at work here - giving these creatures direction and forcing them to work together for some ultimate goal. Giants and their kin are normally chaotic and not prone to cooperate as we have seen. At least, not in my experience."
The night closes in as the storm fades to rain. The people head home or to where ever and soon you are alone. Those of you that looked for shelter have found it, conjured or otherwise. Those who stat are allowed to sleep on the Inn Floor.
The next day dawns. It is a bit foggy, but this soon clears into a bright day. As you seek your breakfast a group of wagons rolls in. It turns out the local lord has gathered supplies to feed people. It helps, but it is a temporary thing. But it stops people staving for another day or so. A few more guards come with the wagons.
What do you do?
As darkness falls and the storm slackens, Horek takes his leave of the inn and travels a short way away from the village, where he rejoins Whisper, ruffling the heavy fur of the enormous wolf with his large weathered hand. The two of them search around and find a natural shelter in the lee of a rock formation jutting at an angle from the earth - the ranger using branches, leaves and moss to make a lean-to that will provide protection from the wind and light rain that persists into the night.
On the following morning, the ranger again takes leave of his faithful companion, heading back into the village to take stock of the situation. As he takes his breakfast at the inn, he learns that the local lord has provided food to help keep the refugees fed - though this will not solve the threat of starvation that looms over them.
Until they learn of what the king has in mind for those that have come to answer the call for aid, Horek figures that perhaps he can be of use to the refugees here. With much experience in living off the land, the ranger can not only provide food in the form of wild game, but he can also teach those with the skill and mind for hunting. Tracking the animals, taking them down with either weapons or traps, dressing them and preserving the meat for later use.
He speaks to the local guards about the idea, getting a sense of whether they know of any refugees that might be amenable to learning the skills he is willing to teach. If they are of no help, he will speak to the locals directly - perhaps seeking the assistance of one of the better spoken adventurers he met yesterday to help in the endeavor.
When the Barmaid offers her name, Mazrak will say, "Well met, Sally! You served us well. I will look forward to my next visit."
When Vakmu offers shelter, Mazrak will look at Vrianna, "Well Lass, I could use the company. Would you join us for shelter? Anyone else?"
Mazrak will look at the Catfolk, "Ranqar you say. Come and tell us about your kind." The Dwarf has heard of people like Ranqar, but has never before seen one. The Oracle's curiosity needs to be quenched.
Wellll as a people we rare in this parts but we are naturallly curious and nimblllle. As for mysellf III stay alive by keeping my distance and killing my quarry before they know III am even there. III woullld so like to lllink up with you and relieve this land of some of those giants if posssible.
As darkness falls and the storm slackens, Horek takes his leave of the inn and travels a short way away from the village, where he rejoins Whisper, ruffling the heavy fur of the enormous wolf with his large weathered hand. The two of them search around and find a natural shelter in the lee of a rock formation jutting at an angle from the earth - the ranger using branches, leaves and moss to make a lean-to that will provide protection from the wind and light rain that persists into the night.
On the following morning, the ranger again takes leave of his faithful companion, heading back into the village to take stock of the situation. As he takes his breakfast at the inn, he learns that the local lord has provided food to help keep the refugees fed - though this will not solve the threat of starvation that looms over them.
Until they learn of what the king has in mind for those that have come to answer the call for aid, Horek figures that perhaps he can be of use to the refugees here. With much experience in living off the land, the ranger can not only provide food in the form of wild game, but he can also teach those with the skill and mind for hunting. Tracking the animals, taking them down with either weapons or traps, dressing them and preserving the meat for later use.
He speaks to the local guards about the idea, getting a sense of whether they know of any refugees that might be amenable to learning the skills he is willing to teach. If they are of no help, he will speak to the locals directly - perhaps seeking the assistance of one of the better-spoken adventurers he met yesterday to help in the endeavour.
[dice=Survival skill check]1d20+11
...
Horek hunts and has some success, but it is small game, rabbits and small deer only. The area has been fairly well hunted out in the past few weeks. While hunting you find an old druidic standing stone. It looks like it hasn't been attended in some time.
The locals and refugees are already well versed in hunting, though not to your level of competence.
Mazrak will take a first watch for the night. He will sit back and listen to the conversation, then get a little shut eye.
At daybreak, he will bring up his armor and add a bit of life.
He will then head into town with Horek and any others that want to join them.
The Oracle will move amongst the refugees and townfolk and see if any are sick, have injuries, or otherwise could use a healer.
Seltyn leaves the shelter, his mind full of spells, and snacks on some rations while he waits for Naji.
When Naji's ready, he'll head back to the tavern.
When Elnaril peels himself from the cold, hard floor of the tavern he goes outside and wakes himself up with cold water from a barrel. After that he leaves the village for a short while to summon his eidolon, Parvo. After playing for a little while with the scaly beast he recalls Parvo back into his soul and starts moving around the village trying to improve the spirits of the refuges with witty banter.
Fenla rolls over in the morning her face landing in the calloused heel of a dwarf (Mazrak). She covered her mouth muffling a screech as she scrambled out of her bedroll, spitting and trying not to gag. She stood up and shivered as the dwarf seemed to barely notice. She sloppily packed up her stuff and ran outside to see a fog lifting and some commotion outside as wagons rolled in. Feeling too small to help hand out the food she over hears that it was the local lord that had arranged the food. She went to one of the people on the wagon and asked "Excuse me? Who is this local lord that has blessed the town with a much needed gift?"
Shortly after dawn breaks, Naji stirs and finds a little space. He kneels and begins his prayers. She knows the limits of where she has placed me better than I. The point is never to easily show devotion, but to find ways to show devotion despite the challenges.
"من خودم را به خواست شما ، به برنامه شما تسلیم می کنم ، و پرواز می کنم هر جا که رشته های شما مرا بگیرد. من می دانم که می دانم راه هایی برای بهبود زندگی کسانی که شما در مسیر من قرار داده اند ، بدانم که آنها در آنجا هستند زیرا یا من به آنها آموزش می دهم یا آنها به من آموزش می دهند. من چیزی را که شما فاش نکرده اید می دانم. من چیزی را تجربه نکرده ام که تصور نمی کردی. من نمی توانم کاری را انجام دهم که توقع نداشته باشید. بخاطر نفس مستمر و اطرافیانم متشکرم باشد که موضوعات ما دقیقاً همان اندازه که باید ثابت کنند."
"
در جهل من ، نمی دانم چه چیزی در پیش من است ، بنابراین باید حدس بزنم چه نعمتهایی را درخواست خواهم کرد ، و امیدوارم که بتوانم جلوه های مورد نظر خود را برای کسانی که ملاقات می کنم ارائه دهم. امروز ، من می خواهم. . .."
"In my ignorance, I do not know what lies before me, so I have to guess what blessings to request, and hope that I manage to provide the effects you desire for those that I meet. Today, I would request . . .."
By the time he has completed his prayers, both of the web shelters have faded back into the ground.
Naji picks up rotten scraps of food, trodden into the mud, gathering as much as he can, before providing another prayer, restoring the food to a fresher, more palatable and more nutritious state. He hands the food to a woman standing near him, and begins gathering more as he moves. He nods to the olf as he continues this pattern, taking one bite from each of the purified collections he then passes on. It doesn't take long, and a few people start bringing him piles of rotten food they gathered, and he provides them the same blessing, making the walk back to the tavern rather slow.
Horek calls out for Whisper and takes a closer look at the druidic standing stone, curious about the odd feature and wondering if it holds any significance.
Seeing what Naji's doing, Seltyn follows, casting Prestidigitation on the food to make it tastier. Apples are sweeter, greens are crispier, potatoes are more potato-y, etc.
Horek calls out for Whisper and takes a closer look at the druidic standing stone, curious about the odd feature and wondering if it holds any significance.
[dice=Perception Check]1d20+11
Horek sees the stone has a votive bowl and faded druidic runes. The usual practice is to place an offering of some sort in the bowl, like a small amount of wine, or flowers. Sometimes a few drops of blood. It is dedicated to Beory
It looks like this stone has not been used for a long time
The night closes in as the storm fades to rain. The people head home or to where ever and soon you are alone. Those of you that looked for shelter have found it, conjured or otherwise. Those who stat are allowed to sleep on the Inn Floor.
The next day dawns. It is a bit foggy, but this soon clears into a bright day. As you seek your breakfast a group of wagons rolls in. It turns out the local lord has gathered supplies to feed people. It helps, but it is a temporary thing. But it stops people staving for another day or so. A few more guards come with the wagons.
What do you do?
True to his word, Eldric sought out the inn keeper that night. He approached him once he found some time where they could talk in private. ”Hail, good sir. I come to you not as a customer, but as a monk and Paladin of Pelor.” Dressed as he was in the simple habit of a monk, he certainly looked the part. ”Pelor teaches us that evil is like a shadow, and justice the light. And it is through us shining our light that we drive back the shadows. As of now, this town is over flowing with refugees. Many of whom are in desperate need of water. Now before you believe that I am here to merely quote from ‘The Light of Pelor’ while asking you to go broke through charity, that is not the case. I will gladly buy what I can afford for the needy before I leave. But I ask of you, to earn the good will and good name of being a man of charity and kindness. For the people here are in desperate need of aid, and when the crisis is over and I report back to the capital, I hope to do so with the names of the righteous. For Pelor teaches us to not dwell excessively on the darkness, but rather to look and give praise to compassion and goodness as well.”
He looks at you. He points at the sign in his bar. No charity, it says
I would hope a knight of Pelor can read. I have a business to run.