"Right, well, what should we do now?" The young ranger asks.
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Rory quickly realizes he's standing there with his arms full. "Yes, we'll need some supplies, my pack was in that part of the lodge, but thankfully the valuables," he olds up the scrolls, "were safe, along with the money, so I should be able to replace my father's and my things. Mrs. Strudwick, if you wouldn't mind looking after Allen, my friends, and..." he heaves the scrolls into a pile next to the sofa, "...these, the Dunne family will be in your debt." "Not to worry dear, and how often must I remind you to call me Prema? I haven't been 'Mrs. Strudwick' in a decade!" "Right, sorry M- er Prema," Turning to Maelius and Taldo, "Shall we then?" As you approach the he quickly points out all the different vendors he thinks are worth your time, "If you can't find it anywhere else, talk to Keighly Van Aarle," he says pointing to an overflowing cornucopia of odds and ends emanating from a run-down tent, then he moves on saying, "If you want to feed it or ride it, that's Carina Fabian's stable there; Finally, if you want to kill it, or keep it from killing you, talk to Averill Logan, that's his smith there. If you want anything arcane, you have to buy it from the Forum; anything divine, at the Temple, but their prices are a bit fairer if you ask me, haha. I'll be around if you can't find someone who sells what you need."
"The Lost Temple?" Rory says in a hush, "Have you lost your minds? My father lost several friends in that place. He wouldn't go back if the fate of Attica rested on it," he throws up his hands in desperation with this last phrase. He looks in Sera's eyes, and seeing the growing disappointment in them, he sighs and says, "Just let me talk to him. Maybe he'll listen if it comes from me." The young man's strained expression makes it clear that he'd much rather be getting a tooth pulled than do what he's about to do. But he does it anyway. Taldo and the Clemanites can't hear the conversation between the man and his father over the noise of the tavern, but they can tell that Lore is all but ignoring the boy, as his aggressive discussion with the other man at his table had not yet reached a conclusion. Finally, Lore stands, and the group sees his face for the first time. His most striking feature was a scar that began in the middle of the man's nose, travelled down, and dissected his left nostril leaving a strand of scar-tissue to split the nostril in two. The scar continues through the man's lips and unshaven chin which was quivering now. Finally Lore spoke a short sentence to his son, gestured toward the group, and sat down silent with his arms crossed; staring at the man across from him. Rory returns to the group and says with a degree of uneasiness. "He says that if you can convince his friend, Nadim the Drunk--yes, he calls himself that--that he hasn't just cheated in their card game, and that Nadim does in fact owe him 950 gp; then he'll take you anywhere you like for free." Rory's tone doesn't sound hopeful, but he turns to Sera and says, "I suppose if anyone could do it," he checks himself and looks back at the group in general, "It might be you all."
"I ought to, shouldn't I?" He says with both humor and disappointment in his voice, "He's my father, isn't he?" He points to a tall man with a bald spot in his brown hair, and a beer belly having a rather heated argument with another man with a similar disposition, only that man's hair was mostly salt-colored at this point. Rory doesn't remove himself from their path, "What do you want with him anyway?"
Thankfully, they don't have to look far to find their target. Rory, the man they met at the Guard house earlier, is on his way out, but stops short when he sees Sera. "Well if it isn't the Angel of Gisli!" the phrase turns what was a scowl in to a wide smile. -Posted with Wayfinder
"Waiting for me are you, Garret?"
Garret & Odd'n: The sound of loud and tired men can be heard in the distance. The burning sun allows perfect, shadow-less visibility of a dozen or so men with picks on their shoulders laughing and jeering as they hustle home, covered in dirt and grime. Some are greeted by running children and/or loving spouses, and still others return to each others tents. Before long, the young poorly-clad man Odd'n knows to be Rory approaches his tent, and seeing his welcoming committee, he beams saying, "Odd'n! How's your morning been? And who are your friends?"
"Abadar is a deity with many names, my parents worshipped him as the Judge of the Gods, they were very concerned with law and order. So imagine my surprise when I leave to serve him...anyway. Yes there are many who worship Milani, especially on this island. I've heard it said that in a language that I don't know Krisol means 'melting pot' or 'crucible.' Me, I'd have called it 'left-overs' or 'trash heap,' every kind of everything ends up here, but only after it couldn't make it somewhere else, so it makes sense that she'd have quite a following in these parts." He takes a breath, and takes back to his whittling, without pausing too long before talking about Odd'n's other concerns. "Skullscar is like us: cast out, spat on. He was sold by his own parents into slavery. Luckily, before he was beaten too badly, his shipment ended up here and the slavers were caught and hanged. Sadly enough, he still ended up doing slaves' work for slaves' wages, but at least he's content. That also means that he may not be very much use to you aside from naming the clan that sharpens teeth. He might even be able to tell you their logic for doing it, but I wouldn't hold my breath: he doesn't like to talk about it much either." Rory continues on about the mayor, "Who the ifrits? Yeah they're the natives on this island, to be perfectly honest Minoj and his family are not the ones you need to be worrying about. They ran from the clan, Minoj's great grandfather and great grandmother (a few generations ago) are the ones who 'sold' Krisol to the Chelish (after they'd been laying siege to it for a couple seasons), a few generations later his family is the one who liberated it from them, and now he runs it." Rory takes another drink from his skin. "All this would be well and good, but the Ifrits are famously chaotic, they're a wild people, so the idea of running a city, engaging in politics is downright heretical to them. That's why there are enormous walls on the edges of Krisol, and frankly that's why we haven't made much of Fwey...the more organized it looks, the bigger of a target it is for the natives." At 'natives' he gestures behind him at the vast desert.
As Odd'n's grip tightens so does Rory's. Odd'n is surprised to find that this otherwise unimpressive-looking young man has a steel grip. It's at this point that Odd'n sees that the muscles that aren't covered by his loose sandy tunic and cloth breeches are all equally sculpted. GM:
"That's quite a grip you've got there, brother. But then I expected as much from a man raised by orcs. It is orcs isn't it?" He said pointing at his own teeth. "You meet a good spread of people and creatures working on this island. I'm pretty sure Skullscar, our old half-orc foreman, told me about the tooth-sharpening tradition his clan had." After an awkward amount of time, Rory adds, "Anyway, you can let go whenever you like, brother."
Yes, very cool. I especially like the idea: Sounds epic. of the transformation bit.
I'm with Denton, if you're gonna reuse some stuff, don't tell me, but otherwise yeah, I'd love to know.
PM me if you do! I'd like to play this some more!
Are we still going?
Quickly recovering from the attack, Rory tries to hit the weird thing in the...something.
Easily dodging the monster's attack, Rory returns with another burst of energy from his finger.
Rory returns with a two-handed swing of the mop-stick.
Rory chuckles at the shiny-tooth goblin's feeble attempt to bite him, says, "Nice grill, lemme clean it for you," just as he jabs him with the off-hand of the mop-stick, and comes around with the on-hand.
Rory, somewhat surprised by the monsters, grows flush with red energy which concentrates in his chest and projects toward the nearest one. Afterward he grasps his chest confused, but then remembers his situation and holds his mop-stick up defensively
Rory is among those who've entered the room as well.
Rory detaches the mop head from the stick to use it as a quarterstaff if he can. He then checks the next door.
Rory flips on the light switch on the near side, and checks the cleaning supply door.
Rory heads to the metal door and tries it provided Walter doesn't find any traps.
"No, didn't find anything special." Rory tries his best to put just enough falsehood in his voice that Michael and the others will know he's lying, but whatever else might be listening wouldn't be the wiser.
"But I'm thinking the metal door is the way to go, actually. Something I'm getting from my Grimoire." This was not a lie, but would cleverly not let on to anyone that he knew something to which he was not supposed to be privy.
Rory quickly places the page in his book, happy to quiet his grimoire's restlessness. Rory casts clandestine conversation to talk to Aiden about what he's found, especially about the fact that they're not alone in here and the wooden door is the wrong choice.
Rory refits his gloves, opens his grimoire, and heads down the ladder. If there's no magic emanating from the dresser, he searches it for mundane traps, and barring any, tries to open it.
Rory gets in as close to the front as he can, and as close to the door as he can without impeding anyone else entering the Mystery Machine. After a few moments of attempting to resist, Rory blurts out, "Zoinks!" in his best Shaggy impersonation.
Rory chuckles at the Mystery Machine comment.
"It's simple," Rory finally chimed in to answer Aiden's question, "We don't." After a pause, he continued, "Either go back to our rooms, and we go no further. Or, we do as they say, go into this place, and see how far the rabbit hole goes." In spite of how serious he was, he couldn't resist saying this last bit in his best Morpheus impression.
Rory raised an eyebrow, and looked sideways at his mates. "Yeah after a long day of lectures and homework, who doesn't want to do research?"
Rory shrugs, puts the amulet on, and follows Allison toward the door.
"See ya!" Rory says, pulling his new gloves on, and leaving the breakfast table for class.
"Honestly I could use a little mundane," Rory replies finishing his last banana slowly so as to give Aiden and Allison time to talk in the hall.
"Yeah, I had a visit from a classic fantasy roguish character in my dream. Not thinking its any coincidence that my constellation is the thief..." Rory chimes.
Rory walks in wearing a light jacket, the gloves placed strategically in the front pockets thereof. He loads his plate, and sits down before he notices Aiden's new glasses. "Sweet specs Mr. Bennett, how's Claire?"
woops, I'll take Adroit instead then.
Rory wakes with a start after the creepy dream, and looks on his bedside table to his right where his grimoire was practically jumping with joy...ethereally anyway. Folded neatly on it's cover was a pair of light, black leather gloves. He puts them on and can immediately tell they're going to be very...helpful.
I'm trying to start my first Campaign, but I don't know how. I can see how to post in the PbP sub-threads, but it doesn't come up like this with the six tabs. Help?
Rory does his best to ignore the obsessive little book in his pack, and goes to his classes as scheduled, taking notes when necessary, playing games when not. He eats the lunch he packed for himself...everything burrito... After lunch he calls his girl back home and talks for an hour and a half completely missing the first 15 minutes of his last class...and not caring. Afterward he heads back to the dorm to wait on the others.
Rory peeks over the top of his LT when she begins to speak. He sees the back and forth between Aiden and Walter and wonders what he's missing. He soon shrugs however and makes his Charmeleon use metal claw for the third time...
For best actress on the show? Or best looking? Or best witch? I think all three have clear winners...lol
Rory sits where he always sits: as far back from where the professor will be as he possibly can. How else is he going to get away with playing Pokémon on the Game Boy emulator he downloaded to his laptop?
"Or if her grimoire is called 'The Book of Shadows,'" Rory chuckles. "Right, off to class, see you chums later," he said hoisting up his pack and heading out the door.
"In every generation, there is a chosen one..." Rory chimed, leaning his head suggestively toward the door where Allison had just left...
Buffy and Angel were my weekday mornings growing up. And that whole business with Firefly was ridiculous...awesome show. Joss Wheaton is a genius.
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