Oy, gameplay thread here fellas!
There has been tales of orcs coming into Karameikos from Thar. Are they trying to find a new place to live? Are they here to raid? There's been tales of the same orcs riding on large wolves (wargs) and using large wolves to move their caravans.
Are the tales tall? Or are they true?
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Tiberius enters the scene, draped in his new vestments as a member of the church. He has been instructed to seek out adventure and wonder, and promote the Church and bring more followers. Though he is devoted to the church, he knows there are other gods in the universe. One of them saved him when he was a child, and helped him in times of great need. He approaches a priest of the church and asked, Tell me Father, where might one go to find these adventures? The Orcs may pose a significant problem for the city and these rumors should be investigated, but I haven’ta thought of where to start.
Fyodor stood by the side of the road and with a sigh lowers the hood of his frayed cloak. He stands there and smiles as he feels the setting sun’s rays caress his face and pauses for a second longer and utters, "That feels good."
The lanky young man turned his head to the side and spit, clearing the dust of the road out of his mouth, and took a drink from his waterskin. He adjusted his pack, make sure his luck acorn is still in his pocket, and began traveling down the road with a smile plastered on his face.
Bavros walks confidently in the grass alongside the road into town. His disheveled appearance and coating of dirt is completely ignored by the lanky man, carrying a pack laden down with the bounty of the forest.
A brace of coneys hang from a cord on his satchel, while the rest of his forage sits comfortably in his worn and patched backpack.
"Thank you, Borgov. Breakfast was delicious. Please send my compliments down to the kitchen."
Borgov nodded his head respectfully at Lady Adria's formulaic compliment as he retrieved her battered tin tea cup and dumped the remains behind the fallen log. Though his new body returned him physically to the years of his prime, he still moved slowly and stiffly as he somberly cleared away the wooden plate that had contained a meagre helping of three roasted mushrooms and an unidentified tuber, scavenged the day before from the roadside. It was not fit fare to put before her Ladyship, but one made do with what one could.
Lady Adria busied herself with tending to her clothes and hair. The small number of travel stains meant she could afford to hold off on using her prestidigitation for the day, so out came the battered wooden comb with five missing teeth to tend to the mess of her hair. Once again failing to straighten the broken feather in her once-fine hat, Lady Adria Atticus Naso resigned herself to once again facing the day.
Meanwhile, Borgov had finished rolling up the bit of canvas he had tied one end of to a tree (spending the night holding the other end himself) and the two were ready for another day of trudging. Of course, there was money for an inn or two, but her enemies knew to search the inns, and even the most honest innkeeper would have a price.
She wasn't sure what the name of the distant town was, nor was she so sure about the dirty man with the rabbits trudging along 100 paces ahead of her, but she was somehow sure the day would bring some sort of adventure.
Bavros walks confidently in the grass alongside the road into town. His disheveled appearance and coating of dirt is completely ignored by the lanky man, carrying a pack laden down with the bounty of the forest.
[Dice=Survival]1d20+7
A brace of coneys hang from a cord on his satchel, while the rest of his forage sits comfortably in his worn and patched backpack.
Rutilux really really wishes he'd gotten a horse. The warrior wasn't easily tired, that's true enough, and his heavy boots and armor would keep him protected from shards of stone or brambles alike, but the Thayatian born fighter decided when he got into town, he was going to find a place to kick his heels up and maybe grab some food.
He would do more than that, of course. Rumors of orcs meant danger, danger meant opportunity, opportunity could lead to prosperity, and prosperity would lead to enough respectability that Zorya's father would find himself silenced.
"Actually looking forward to fighting orcs" He says aloud, "The things a man will do for love"
"Love and fighting orcs, there must be a lot behind that statement," Milush says having overheard Rutilux's statement. "I am Milush, please join me and take a seat as I am also looking to hunt down orcs," he points to an empty stool at his table. Milush is a muscular youth whose face tends to give away that he is just coming into adulthood.
"Rutilux, and it would be my honor, Milush" He takes the seat offered.
Seeing the young woman behind him, Bavros slows his pace and lets her catch him up>
"Howdy. Mind if we walk into town together? Some of the gatesmen seem to take a dislike to me. Dunno why, whole town's muddy and dusty, ain't like I am gonna make the place dirtier. Names Bavros, by the way. Pleased to meetcha."
Bavros extends a well-calloused hand in greeting.
Someone watches you from the fire. Make perception checks.
Fire?
Fyodor makes his way into the area, a little confused he looks around. He moves closer to the fire, rubbing his hands together, to warm himself from his travels.
Fire?
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
You have the feeling that you're being watched.
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
You know who is watching you, a rogue. Could he belong to the Kingdom of Theives? The Veiled Society? Or the Iron Ring?
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
You get feeling that you're being watched.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
The ghost senses nothing.
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Like Rutilex, you know you are being watched by a rogue. But what organization he belongs to, you do not know.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
You don't happen to care if you are being watched.
You are all together now in the same town. The weather is good for adventuring, it's the fifth day of the fifth month -- Corresponding to May 5th. You are near the Rusty Sword, a tavern that serves good food and good ale. In it's alley is a fire, and there is someone watching you from the fire.
Both Rutilex and Bavros know that you are being watched by a rogue.
Borgov frowns disapprovingly as the uncouth ruffian has the temerity to extend a hand towards her lady ship, and settles for a “Harumph” as Adria takes it and smiles. While her enemies might send someone to befriend her on the road, they would never choose so obviously unsuitable as this.
”A very good morning to you Bavros,” she replies in Traladaran. ”We would be honoured to travel with you into town. I am Adria, and my companion and loyal friend Borgov. Yes, if you were wondering, he’s dead, but he won’t hurt you, unless you soil his last linen napkin.”
Adria subconsciously weighs her coin purse to decide if she can afford a good meal for once. She looks about for the source of the watched sensation, but is unable to locate him...unless others begin to draw her attention to the alley.
Rutilux makes sure his coin purse is secure while whispering to those near him "I think we have gained an admirer, and not a welcome one."
Bavros seems nonplussed about the young lady and her reaction to his appearance. He raises an eyebrow when she says her servant is dead, but says nothing.
"Yeah, some kinda sneaky thief fella. Dunno which crew he runs with me but I doubt he's got our best interests at heart."
He subtly point out the man in the alley.
"Ah, I thought I felt chill on neck," Milush says fighting the urge to look over his shoulder at the area of the fire.
Are they talking about me, Fyodor wondered before realizing they must be talking about some other concealed person in the shadows. His suspicions are confirmed when someone subtly points the rogue out. He pulled his frayed cloak tighter around him and followed the others, the is safety in the company of others. He called out, ”Wait for me.”
He enters the Rusty Sword tavern with his new found companions, finds a seat, and introduces himself.
Lady Adria whispers to Borgov to find a spot down the street a ways where he has a good view of the main entrance to the Rusty Sword, then she heads inside after Fyodor.
Borgov partially slips behind a stack of barrels down the street.
Rutlilux nods to those coming closer
The Rusty Sword tavern is home to scoundrels, but they'll take your coin. Rumors of orcs coming over to settle in the west is heard, but they could be rumors. Or something worth investigating.
"So what is the story of orcs? Has anyone here come from the west?" He asks around
Adria thinks that heading west towards rumours of orc attacks is the very thing to put off her pursuers, since that's something she'd clearly never do in her right mind. She, too, will ask around about these rumours.
Adria thinks that heading west towards rumours of orc attacks is the very thing to put off her pursuers, since that's something she'd clearly never do in her right mind. She, too, will ask around about these rumours.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
You hear of orc caravans making their way in the West, from Thar. Many people here distrust the orcs. Whether or not they are peaceful or not, their has been talk of raiding the orcs. Others don't want to raid them, or have blood on their hands.
Rutlilux raises a brow "Seems a lot of hearsay abounds. No one here has seen the orcs raid or the places after they were raided? Interesting"
”Indeed. It is possible that these orcs are peaceable, but when two sides clash, hot heads can erupt. I would not be averse to examining the situation for ourselves. If they are peaceable, then we can aid in diplomacy, and if not, I have some magical skills which could prove useful.”
"So, barkeep, is there a bounty board or listing somewhere of who wants dangerous tasks done fer gold? All this talk a orcs is fine and all, but I prefer a more sure thing."
"So, barkeep, is there a bounty board or listing somewhere of who wants dangerous tasks done fer gold? All this talk a orcs is fine and all, but I prefer a more sure thing."
He points you to just a bounty board near the bar. The board shows a bounty on a goblin known as Guggelex -- wanted dead or alive, for 2,000 gold crowns. Another bounty is for Vasily Romanov, a rogue mage that has caused the death of more than 20 citizens with his magic. He's wanted dead or alive for 2,500 gold crowns.
”Now that seems promising,” Fyodor said while looking at the bounties. He looks to his companions and suggests, ”I’d rather try for the goblin. Best we not get involved with a wizard and such.”
"Excellent, goblin is probably safer choice. Was hoping for orcs but it is a start,"
"Any of you like our bounties?" asked the bartender.
Rutilux is DEFINITELY interested, "I'd say I'm interested. Even split with companions, that could be quite the worthwhile gain."
"What can you tell me of this goblin, Guggelex? Is it a warboss? Or some sort of witchy goblin creature? Where might it lair?"
"What can you tell me of this goblin, Guggelex? Is it a warboss? Or some sort of witchy goblin creature? Where might it lair?"
"Gugglex is a powerful warrior, he and his army have allied with the Black Eagle Barony," explains one of the guards. "He lairs within sight of the evil baron."
"Oh so is army and not just Gugglex, but money is money," Milush says with a shrug.
”A share of a bounty that large would mean inns and meals instead of dry bread under a hedge, so I am not averse to it.”
"Well seems more than once of us is interested" A nod from the the warrior
"Okay, then, where might we find this baron? Or are there any maps and such available? Seems like an army of goblins would be a problem someone would have some intelligence on."@
One of the Duke's men pulls out a map of the Grand Duchy Karameikos. "Here is a map of the Grand Duchy. As you can see, orcs are moving from the east to West, and our land is being bordered by the goblins in the west. To the North we have goblins and kobolds. To the northeast, giants."
Lady Adria thinks on what she knows about the baron of Black Eagle. Apparently his name and that’s it.
Maybe.
Borgov continues to watch for the suspicious individual in the alleyway.