Accidental Hero's page

Blizzard is blind sided and hit in the back of the head with a thrown drinking horn, covering him in beer.

Purity is unable to dodge thrown food and a grope from an assailant as she wipes cake from her eyes.

Albion is in all sorts of trouble! He is trampled by overweight womenfolk escaping the melee and goes down... only to be pinned by a hefty dowager who starts trying to drunkenly make out with the young man, only feet away from her husband who is gleefully throwing food into the throng.

It's a large ball of chaos to be honest... I'll take some time to try to untangle my characters later.

Purity Ref: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 1 - 2 = 9... penalty for drunk.

Abion Fort: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Blizzard: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Blizzard is clearly talking to his old ommrades and not paying attention.
Purity: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Purity is giggling and thinking rubbing food into someone's puss would be hilarious
Albion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Albion isn't caught flat footed but definitely surprised at Lord Mactus. Then he remembers he's the very low peg on a tall pole AND not a lot of friends nearby... he readies himself to receive some degree of punishment.

The older more experienced Blizzard moves with his old comrades to the far side of the room from the vomiting.

Albion, well removed from the chunder thunder by his position at the far end of the high table has smelt worse in his alchemical preparations.

Purity really has no idea what is going on, just that whatever is happening is funny.

Nice

Both Blizzard and Purity laugh heartily, though Purity has more of a drunken guffaw sound and Blizzards is more weazy.

The ambitious young Albion tries to keep a neutral expression... laughing along with Lord Mactus did not always end well, or so it was rumoured.

Well... crap, says Blizzard. Flexing again, Mactus ain't a patch on his Old Man. Bugger it. Chasing youngsters ain't fer me. I'll track him if I need to but good luck to him getting out of town in the meantime, Blizzard says.

Purity is a sloppy mess. She barely registers the speech given by Lord Mactus.

Albion on the other hand sees this as a way to ingratiate himself to his betters. He had nothing against Daniel but if Lord Mactus wanted him? Why then it definitely wouldn't hurt to at least show willing. He made to rise then thought a second... IF I do grab him? The other aspiriants are probably gonna do me dirty... I need this trial more than the Lords famous 'temporary' favour.

So How much does the party know about the boreholes etc...

Not sure how much Albion gleaned. The winter blanket hints it may be cold out there...

Great rolls for a change

Posting tomorrow

Blizzard is tempted... SORELY tempted, to hit the bottle again. But for now? He holds true to his word to his old, and perhaps, only friend. He keeps an eye on the youngsters for the moment, and thinks on the event of the slaughter, trying to puzzle it out in a head that still screamed at him for booze.

Albion feels happy, a sense of relief of cobbles (however sparse) under feet, and the prospect of a good meal does not go unthought of. Hells, maybe a bit of dalliance if he could manage it but one thing he was sure of, he was sure he'd keep his wits about him, eyes peeled and ears open. Rumour had it that hints for those more favoured than he were occasionally dropped at such events... and he meant to grab every advantage possible.

Purity was still troubled by the carnage she witnessed but took comfort in the sights and sounds like a drowning man clinging to an old barrel or spar.

Albion:
Interesting... but I mean, what are we supposed to do about this?, he whines slightly, and keeping distance from the site. Do we move on with our quest and leave this to the rangers?.

[i]I don't want to be a damn apprentice for another 5 years![/b], he thought anxious to be on his way to completing the challenge that would see him become a full citizen.

Purity:
The young woman shoots the alchemist apprentice a glare. She too had hung back... but more to try to get the big picture while others gathered clues.

Valentine: lies in a fever back in the village.

Blizzard: He was trying hard to put up a good image but he'd been a drunk for years and the lack of booze was still wearing on him despite his best efforts to conceal it. He satisfied himself with pointing at areas of presumed interest and grunting... hoping it would either come off as encouragement or instruction...

That said the strange outline of wood shavings, the oddness of the wagon itself and then Hafnor's observed nature of the stone had his 'f&*~ this s~%#' sense tingling. This seemed a bit, well, eldritch and fairy tale-ish to him. That meant dangerous.

But he didn't want to spook anyone, not yet.

A few things going sideways atm... need another day or so

Or she werewolf'ed out

Blizzard straightened, the cracking in his shoulders audible.

He thought about barking like a trainer ranger but then reconsidered and tried a different approach. He was too tired for that s+@$.

Right, keep about 5 feet away from anything and watch where you put your feet... A smart hunter, and particularly a smart ranger? They're a thinker... they look and they think. I want you to look at this... look from different angles, look while squatting or kneeling... Don't Step there! Right... now look around you for other things, like clues. Foot prints? Broken branches or arrows. Depressions in the grass, that sort of things.

He tries to lead everyone through the basics of tracking.

Survival/Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10 use this for aid another when doing skill checks.

His body screamed for booze as Kadmin mentioned the Event, and he clenched his jaw.

Maybe it's best that I'm drummed out... I haven't been up to scratch for ages, haven't wanted to be. Hell, t'would've been better had I died then. In some ways, I did.

He sighed.

F*~! it. I'll give you one last GOOD showing... then we'll talk. I've bugger all decent kit though. Sold it fer rotgut. I'll just stick to the Rangers motto I 'spouse - "Make Do". I'll give the young un's a show they'll be able to build a decent foundation on.

My gong farmer is down with a mysterious fever

Blizzard follows Captain Kadmin and does his best not to piss the man off.

Cha: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10

Edited: in line with DM post I'm altering the original and changing it to charisma

---

Purity

Missile 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Melee 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

It's clear she is definitely not comfortable with weapons.

---

Albion

Missile 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Melee 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

Albion, however, has always been physical and was a bit of a nut for weapons. He secretly had several woodcut pamphlets of 'Mercenary of Fortune', 'Bows and Arrows' and 'Tactical Lyfe'. While Purity was struggling, he took to the clubs and daggers with gusto, and was a dab hand with a sling. He got a few approving nods from the rangers.

Health and family first

Another player? Sure.

While having multiple characters pads it, if we lose another player the game might as well be dead. Might as well try another recruitment and just bring them in as those who ran off after the missing daughter... that said, we are also running the DM as a player which seems weird

This trial is proving to be pretty good, especially for PbP. I was skeptical at first but it's proving to be a way to gently mold the characters and find out organically who they are.

How many players do we have?

Day 2

Blizzard had to spend his own money for beer, when he'd be expecting to be fete'd by the villagers, what other benefit was there in herding these idiot kids?

He'd curbed the worst of the shakes it seems.

But maybe some better boots? That would help. He asked around inquiring about the families and villagers who had died in the last year. He had no scruples about wearing a dead farmers boots.

But as with booze? He came up empty... Just my stinking luck, he cursed. Still, unlike him being a mean drunk yesterday he didn't seem to piss anyone off today.

Charisma: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (14) - 3 = 11
Flat Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 5

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Purity

Decided to help out one of the woodcutters. They often ventured into the woods for their fuel and they'd be a useful contact for her.

Charisma: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (20) - 2 = 18
Flat Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 9

She charmed Old Rolf, listening to his stories and smiling winsomely at his unmarried son, Lucas... who while no great catch for future prospects, was a notch or two above 'plain', and at least was muscular and strong.

She spent more time talking than chopping wood... with the finished tally of wood being perhaps a bit short.

---

Albion

Charisma: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (14) - 2 = 12
Flat Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Charcoal was a useful good for his future trade and business. The village charcoal burners, the Collymore's had provided his master with the best stuff. Being of a calculating nature he approached them on the outskirts of town.

He had no issues in having them accept his offer of work, having also dealt with him before, when Albion was sent out to pick up packages or drop off payment.

He unfortunately knew sweet fanny adams about the job and made a hash of it. Charcoal needs a slow controlled burn. When they left Albion to his own devices, trusting him perhaps overmuch because of their familiarity, he'd set up a bloody bonfire... leading to a toasty warm Albion but far less charcoal from that burn that he should have... with much tut tutting and shaking of heads resulting.

Welcome to the fun

Blizzard comes lunch time is desperate and decides to 'hussle', fatigue be damed. He finds a semi friendly face from the Pig and Whistle and makes his case.. Im dusty as a dry fart... I need the stiffest you can give me!

1d20 - 3

1d20

[dice=Con check]1d20

Looks like his erstwhile drinking companion has no booze on hand... either that or found religion.

Blizzard comes lunch time is desperate and decides to 'hussle', fatigue be damed. He finds a semi friendly face from the Pig and Whistle and makes his case.. Im dusty as a dry fart... I need the stiffest you can give me!

1d20 - 3 ⇒ (15) - 3 = 12

1d20 ⇒ 3

Con check: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Blizzard 1d20 ⇒ 7 Blizzard looks like he's not gonna get lucky...

Purity 1d20 ⇒ 10 Purity does an adequate job pulling weeds

Albion 1d20 ⇒ 12 Albion seems to be able to back up his words to SOME extent.

Blizzard wanted to put first things first... even as one of the youths approached farmer brown to shovel manure on his behalf he decided he needed a drink...

As farmer Brown stood grinning to one side, watching the man liberally spade dung around his garden Blizzard made a play for a drink or two. Stronger was better but hells, he'd settle for a beer.

1d20 - 3 ⇒ (7) - 3 = 4

Stop yer grinning and get me a shot or glass of wine or beer, Blizzard snarled, deep in the throws of a hangover.

---

Purity did her part in weeding a garden for the widow Tucks. She mopped her forehead in the warm early day sun and did her best to brighten the old woman's day by listening to stories about her many children, grand children and cats.

1d20 - 2 ⇒ (11) - 2 = 9

Purity did her best to be considerate and patient but her frustration and impatience leaked through... Oh gods... why won't she just shut up!, she thought.
---

Albion did not suffer fools gladly but unfortunately he had to suffer Bob the Butcher (Yuginov's Fine Meats and Organs, Est. 311) as he was put to work cleaning and preparing a boars carcass... and was lectured every step of the way...

1d20 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

S#@& rolls and s$&! charisma

Dammit! I've read books on anatomy, I've extracted all manner of muck from animals both normal and abnormal! Who do you think drains the snake bile for your hang over cures?! Just let me work and get this over with you great wine bag!

Blizzard shuffled in his new boots... which typically did not fit. The left pinched hard on the sides of his foot, promising blisters until he broke them in. The right? Possibly two sizes too big... which also promised blisters but likely with no solution.

He spat to one side. Shepard duty... bah.

He wished he had a flask of something with some bite to it. The shakes wouldn't be too far off at this rate and he'd be dry heaving and feeling like death by noon.

---

Purity did her best to try to not upset the surly hunter. She'd be told that the pair of them would be there to help with more substantial threats - like bears, but they weren't to offer direct help. She hoped she wouldn't lose any friends over it... and maybe she'd be able to slip in a little help if Blizzard wasn't watching too closely.

---

Albion listened to the speech closely. His apprenticeship couldn't really end until he passed this test... and Gods know how much he wanted out of the indentured servitude that was apprenticeship. He wanted to possibly take over the existing business, buying his master out with either a loan or profit sharing agreement.

---

Valentine just groaned in bed.

We're playing 4 stat blocks who may die at the first arrow. That's cool. That's what I signed up for... I like professor DM too. That said it's four of them. I'm looking forward to getting to the dying etc rather than the world building. Deeper RP will come as they are whittled down.

Albion wasn't happy with Blizzard, not happy at all... but this is part of the job. A part of the job he hope one day to fob off to an apprentice of his own.

Purity had found herself helping out in the infirmary. Not a lot to do today... the cold would stop the glue from setting properly when fletching, and so she had time today. She fussed over Valentine who was down with fever... and had the stinking s~#$ gatherer and adhoc sewer worker down and sweating.

Blizzard meanwhile emptied his guts anew... a trainee? Gods! What were they thinking?!, he marveled, senses reeling.

1) Is Valentine male, female, or something other?

I'll work it out later... at this point, these guys are stat blocks and semi random professions. I'll breathe life into them as we go. That's how the funnel works.

Finally made an alias