Patrissa Vrakes

Commoner's page

48 posts. Alias of baldwin the merciful.


"I have four rooms available for the eight of you and your wolf to bunk in.' The innkeeper announces.

"Supper is serves between 17 and 19 bells. Breakfast will be ready before you leave."

<bells><ring>The Raging Orc's doors smash open. "Troop movement. We are under attack from the East, West, and North. They're split'n our defense. They're coming at us from different directions...avoiding the new walls."<ring><bells> the sounds of boots and armor clang from outside.

How are you guys going to do this? The attacks are coming from the three sides Kalim and Karnog were not able to shore up last night.

Two of the clerks break down in tears. While the apprentice smith simply stands in horror looking at her darkened flame. "Yes...yes, sir." She mumbles. She is mesmerized.

She gets up and steps over to Karnog, she smiles. "I'm r...r...ready now. I'll walk near you if that's ok." She notices Desmond moves towards the front of the group.

"W..why are you down here...Trade?" She nervously chatters, clearly scared.

She doesn't have any magical auras that you can see.

She blushes as Desmond flirts. She reaches out timidly and takes hold of the dagger hilt. She stares at the blade.

She visibly relaxes and winks at Desmond. "We were heading to the caravan (lich) and then to the dark elves for trading." She looks around but sees not usable gear to pick up. "I c..c..can carry a pack...I often served as the mule when needed." She tries to smooth out what little clothing she has on.

The woman now on her feet blinks at Kalim and his growth. "Er...are you ok?" She steps towards Karnog. "Is he one of those." She points to the dust. "I like the name...Ailey." She steps further away from Kalim. "W..w..where are you going to take me?"

"I d..d...don't want to go on my own." Wide eyed. "I'm known as Servant."

The woman shrugs, "I like laying with the Master or his guests. I do as commanded." She looks at your gear. "I clean well and cook good."

She looks scared, her eyes widen. "B..b...but who will take of me? W...w...w...wh...where will I go? It's a death sentence for me." Sheer panic.

"I've been a servant since I could remember. I head where he goes, serve him in any capacity." She shrugs. "My Master travels the tunnels buying and selling with many tribes, merchants and dwellers. Mostly dark elf, druegar, orc, and goblins." You can see she is very pale in color, so you know she has not see daylight for a long period of time. "We were coming from a druegar post trading ores and heading to see the traveling dead." You understand that to be the lich you recently saw.

"It's g..g...gone? Really." A tear runs down her cheek. She glances at the dust where the body lays destroyed. "It attacked our caravan and killed everyone. The wizard...fighters...the holy man." She stumbles over her words holding back the tears. "I'm Jennira, a servant. We were heading to a trading post."

With a healing touch Karnog eventually coaxes the lady out of her trance. She sits frightened at first but then her eyes scan the cave frantically. She searches for the creature. The sight of the adventurers confuses her until it dawns on her that she is being rescued or being transferred to a new captor. "W..wh...where is it?"

"Round of free ale? a couple boots stomp with excitement.

"Mount Harbringer" One of the parishioners says as she puts two coppers in the offering plate. He shakes his head back and forth when he notices the dagger on the plate. There's actually a few more people filing inside the building now, each tossing a copper or an occasional silver piece into the offering. Several people notice the dagger in the plate.

"Which way?"


Another gossiper answers, "Just heard that Hargrove sent Lt. Commander Trey Perrin in the Albatross out to hunt Garr Bloodbane’s gold. If that’s not proof that Hargrove bought the Dragoons long ago – he can order about a sloop! – I don’t know what could paint it more clearly."

Torgue, Chell, and Cireladwen prepare for Garreg. A few minutes pass and he hasn't shuffled out yet. There's quite a bit of laughing and hooting coming from inside. More time passes.

Bri and Sorrin are not back yet...when you hear giggles from a girl, "Garreg you've all hands, hun, I've plenty of sug'r fer you. Oh..Henrix, ya gonna join th' fun with us...a little threesome." The signal should be clear for the ambush.

She unlaces the top of her blouse, "Yeah, I can come up with a way."

She chuckles, "Bastard's as corrupt as the three in there. My broth'rs too naive t'believe. Ev'ry one's on the take." She scoff's, "Those three work fer Garreg on the side, run his protection, keep his business running without too much hastle. soemtime's some smaller fish are caught fer show." She looks to the door and then back to Sorrin. "they may be corrupt but they are the law...death wish if y'kill 'em, but if you do you need to dump 'em in the vat of evidence."

She sighs, "You want me t' get Garreg out 'ere?"

"It's w'rk, pays my way. whatcha outh're for." Her troxy drawl lingers. She seems to finally notice the fog coming out from the front door. 'Y'all burning 'em out of there is that smoke?"

Carla step up, "Hey...yer th't guy wit my brother." She begins to rock back and forth, nervously and a bit ashamed.

"LAST CALL, FINAL LAST CALL. Anything more for you two sweetie?"

Astrianna Sparacello wrote:

The half-elf heads downstairs, haversack slung over her shoulder, and pulls up a seat at the bar. She raises a finger. "Glass of gin. The good stuff."

She looks to see if there are any games of dice or cards going on, and judges the disposition of the people gathered this late at night.

"So did my hangov'r remedy work?"

You remember something about people sleep in the yard and bar floor for a few copper pieces and to you it looks like it's that time of the night. There two guys playing high card at the bar with the female barkeep. They only playing for high stakes and by the look of them, they couldn't afford much anyway.

The barkeep step away from the game to get the gin she pours it, "Olive?"

"Last call," she announces.

As Astri and Chell pass the bartender on the way out of the inn she teases, "An enjoyable hangover cure?"

"Hung over...aye...sure thing, got yeah covered." The bartender mixes a concoction that inclued 1 part gin, 2 parts water firewhiskey, hot pepper sauce, a radish and celery. "Have her drink this up...she'll be a good as new in a jiffy." She winks. "A good tumble in the sack fixes it up.

@ Astri

The girl next to you places her hand on your knee under the table. She says, Varion is undefeated since he came to the ring."

A third person pipes up, "Jessica ain't his daughter, it's his wife." She drinks her beer. "Man-shark is rubbish just Old Craw talking."

The town folk are a bit apprehensive about Targus but when they see that he played a visible part in their liberation, they immediately embrace him. There were some apologies and even more thanks given to him for his assistance.

The villagers are naturally tight-lipped about the secrets of Chimera Cove, but they begin to fill in the blanks. All of them know as much as Targas, and the three elders know the full story of the Terraken and the ritual to expose the entrance to the concealed port:

"When a holy symbol of Iomedae is dropped into the center of the cove on 5 fathoms of silver line, seawalls rise up to connect the islands with the shore and with each other, and the water level in the enclosed cove gradually drops by 30 feet. The receding waters reveal a cave mouth in the Lion, normally hidden below the low-tide mark, which stands tall enough to allow the entry of a medium-sized ship."

The tell you that "this cave mouth is the entrance to a network extending through all three islands. Of course, this is secondhand information, for none of us has actually been within the concealed
port, as it is extensively trapped and very dangerous."

If shown Poltur’s letter to Baron Vendikon, they surmise that Poltur must have uncovered the ritual once inside the concealed port. Like Targas, they have never known Poltur to go by the sobriquet “the Accursed.”

A few minutes later Amaya starts to shuffle around the shack gathering belongings and packing them in a few tattered burlap sacks. It's quite somber watching how quick a poverty stricken life can be packed and ready to move. Amaya picks up the whittled toy horse and hand it to the boy, "Take this ...your pa's dead and ain't coming back, we need to leave." Her tone is a matter-of-fact.

Amaya breaks down in tears when the elf speaks about noble decisions. He shakes as emotion overtakes her. "" She reaches out to Adriel to steady her. Still not completely comprehending the situation.

Astrianna Sparacello wrote:

The bard stops extending the sack in front of her, instead laying it in the palm of her other hand.

She nods her head at the woman. "We were attacked by a sea dragon during our crossing to the Razor. Hatchet was on deck when the massive serpent latched onto our ship, demanding tribute. Two of the crew who are with me, Darius and Adriel, fed it some goats but it demanded more. Seeing no other solution Hatchet sacrificed himself to save the rest of the ship. The dragon took him and dove beneath the waves. He saved all of our lives." The bard nods somberly. Close enough to the truth.


She chokes up, "Hatchet sacrificing himself? That doesn't sound like like him. I suppose he was different at sea."

"He was catching bait fish and was bit. Money's tight...couldn't afford medicine, so a mother does what she has to." She states, feeling no shame.

"Coppers for medicine." she defensively replies. You can see there are some "healing" herbs near the boy.

She still hasn't reached for the gold. Some sort of cruel joke. She eyes everyone a bit suspiciously. "So, Hatchet died heroically?" As the news begins to sink in.

The shack is a dingy two room building, inside the first room has some cardboard and threadbare blankets in the far corner lays a small boy obviously feverish. He has bandages wrapping his torso. he's biting down on a cloth to muffle his whimpers.

Amaya's light brown eyes dart between the newcomers and her son. Astri's words don't seem to register at first. A few moments later a single tear moistens her left cheek.

A scantly clad female opens the flimsy door to see the crowd, she signs, "really...who was next?" She's pretty but beginning to show years beyond her age clearly the result of an unfulfilled hard life.

The heavy man starts to stand-up to take his turn.

the mood is uneasy and distrustful. The people don't think they are being told the truth, and some sickness is beginning to spread on the ship.

Astri disappears leaving Sath to deal with the situation on his own. "W...wh...where did she go? Why the secrets...are we all going to get the flu like that family. Look that family's sick too...are we going to be next?"

"I want to go on the main deck too."

Sath you hear the sound of battle stations, which you know means those nonessential passengers are to stay below deck out of the way.

sense motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

She exhales in clear scoff, "You've never seen the truth ahve you? the merchant's wife comments to Astri. 'They are hiding how sick this family is...they've taken the mother, not the dying dad and the kids...What do they have, we are at risk, don't lie!"

This gets alot of attention from other people.

DM roll:
% cough roll 30 and lower: 1d100 ⇒ 4

A few people laugh but that stops abruptly when the father cough's in fit, red spew.

'What is wrong with him...he's sick, they are sick!

sense motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20

I have them labeled as commoner but they are actually merchant class. I didn't create another alias.

She raises an eyebrow, "They haven't left that room since they moved in there last night."

Another person on the ship in the hold asks Astri and Sath, "They sick...sure sound it."

The lady hacking up more pinkish mucus, " ch...<cough> children need me, my husband <cough cough> wasn't feelin' well. Soothe syrup is what I need." She tries to argue but lays back on the table. her fever spike and her breath is wheezing.

Pretty cool may earn that nickname Sawbones after all.

Dirk the earlier answers suggest it's not a poison...most likely a sickness, or disease, or curse.

She coughs up phlegm that is pink tinged in the cloth and shows you. ", he's sleeping for hours now and <cough> three <cough> kids."

"Been cou <coughing> ...ghing today,, she is hot to the touch, calmy, she cough into the cloth. Wheezing, "C..ches...chest so tight." She leans on the good doctor and nearly falls into your arms. Her eyes look fine, pulse is elevated.

You going to examine her her middeck or take her somewhere?

You can make a check to identify what is wrong with her.

She looks pallid, when she enters a coughing fit. She looks uneasy on her feet, "<cough> can't stop cou...coughing today."

The diffident young lady asks, ", are you .." She whispers, "the, the doctor?" Her lips dry.