This is the IC thread for my pbp game - take 1.
Some say the average adventurer lives on 50% iron rations, and 50% pure adrenaline. Nothing puts those years of training into sharp focus better than hearing the death rattle of another foe as you wipe his blood off your blade. Unless it's incinerating him with a well placed incantation, or relieving him of his last gold piece while he remains blissfully unaware. Still, for all the memories that provoke toasts and 'another round' as you sit in city taverns, there are the occasional tales of being dragged out of a free-fire zone, semi-conscious, of watching the prize you have sweated for slipping through your fingers, or the muttered memories of those who didn't make it back at all.
So even the most hard-bitten seekers of fortune occasionally find themselves in need of some rest and recuperation time. Although, you can't quite recall how you managed to pick out this sleepy backwater from all the other possible destinations... The duchy of Kadmar isn't the biggest dukedom you've ever seen, and Chendir isn't even the biggest town in it. You can only imagine that, tucked as it is between a couple of mountain ranges, it's total lack of strategic value is its best defense. Even an orc horde would struggle to summon up enough enthusiasm to overrun it. Still, the people are pleasant enough. Boring, yes, but friendly on the whole, ambling around about their daily business. Adventurers aren't so rare as to cause a crowd of them to follow you round, but in some quarters, your novelty value still doesn't seem to have worn off even after a couple of weeks.
You saunter into the tavern that has become your favoured haunt over the past few days. It certainly has a marginally more cosmopolitan feel to it, being favoured by a number of merchants, and other people who claim to have *gasp* seen other lands. It appears to have attracted the entire visiting adventurer population too, such as it is, as you see the same few faces that stand out from the crowd to one of your experience. Busy this afternoon, for some reason, and when you have collected your drink of choice from the barman, only one table appears to be free...
A white-haired gentleman wearing non-descript clothing gathers his ale from the barkeep and saunters over toward the free table.
Aha! It looks to be my lucky day! A crowded bar, ale on tap, and a free table. All I need now is some suitable companionship, and this afternoon's distraction would be perfect.
Johan grabs a chair and sits down, facing the tavern entrance. His eyes are pealed for anything out of the ordinary and/or a comely wench to help wile away the hours.
Perception:
Knowledge (Local): N/A
Diplomacy:
Standing with his back to the bar, a tall half-elf drinks ale from a chipped earthenware tankard.
[bold] A tavern full of adventurers. Does that signify an abundance of work available, or none at all, I wonder?[/bold]
He examines the white-haired human seated alone at the table carefully, before crossing the room and taking a seat across from Johan.
As a half-elf (and a spellcaster at that) and a poor conversationalist, Rath doesn't deign to speak. In his experience, humans can be a temperamental lot, particularly in taverns where a few too many tankards can cause tempers to flare, as the vertical scar running above and below his left eye can attest.
His keen instincts tell him that something is different about this white-haired human across from him - he doesn't detect any malice in his blue eyes. All the same, caution has saved his life several times in the past, and so he decides to keep his mouth shut, for now.
[bold]Skill Checks:[/bold]
[spoiler=Movie plot spoiler]Perception
Knowledge (local)
Diplomacy - N/A
Johan examines the bold half elf in the seat across from him.
Welcome friend. I was hoping for some company tonight. I had someone more feminine in mind, but some good conversation can prove a good substitute. I am Johan. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?
Johan offers his table-mate his hand.
Looks like a full house tonight. What are you and your furry winged friend drinking tonight? I'm Johan by the way. Glad to meet your acquaintance.
Now that the 3 of you have settled into your seats and made your introductions, you have a chance to get a better look at your fellow drinkers. Discounting the locals and merchants in the room, you notice a number of individuals in various parts of the tavern who merit a second glance.
Sitting apparently alone is a figure in a deep hooded cloak - not the first time your eye has been drawn to this one during the past few days. At least the inside of the tavern is somewhat cooler, but the weight of the material would make spending much time in the heat of the late summer sun somewhat unpleasant you would imagine. Still, in all the time you have seen him, never has the hood been down, and his mug is periodically refilled for him without need to head to the bar.
At one of the tables closest to the door are a group of 3, obviously friends or at least used to being together from the familiarity of their manner with each other. One wears comfortable, if somewhat loose fitting trousers and shirt, while the other two sport the same sort of travelling garb that you yourselves might wear on occasion.
Somewhat unusually, a priest sits at a table near the bar. Unusual because, although he appears to be of the local faith, he is the only one you have ever seen in the tavern. During your time in this part of the duchy you have learnt they have a quaint belief system centering on one overall chief deity, and a number of patron saints who preside over different areas of daily life.
A heavyset man with bushy dark hair and beard has just collected two tankards of foaming brew from the innkeep, and is returning to the table he shares with a young man who alternates between quietly strumming a few notes on a battered lyre, then apparently scribbling the melody down on a scrap of paper.
The last one to catch your eye is a new arrival: a young woman who from her stiff manner is more at home inside a protective shell of metal. Despite the genial air, a couple of times when the outside door slams shut her hand reflexively goes for the weapon which you assume would normally hang by her side, were open wearing of such things not discouraged within the town limits. As she sips from a tall mug of watered ale, her eyes are constantly in motion around the room.
Leconair turns to Johan. "It sure does seem crowded. I wonder if it'll get worse, with the religious festival coming up soon." While giving Johan some attention, he turns away every so often to continue to survey the room. "The name's Leconair, by the way."
Looking up from his tankard, he meets Johan's gaze with his piercing amber eyes.
"I am Rath." In contrast to the mellifluous tones normally possessed by elves and their kind, his voice is unpleasant.
He nods silently to Leconair, taking a moment to examine him before responding to Johan's question.
"I didn't come here for the festival. I'm looking for work." From his silvery chain shirt, the large, slightly curved sword he wears on his back like a quiver and the grim set in his eyes, his line of work seems fairly obvious.
The barmaid brings over Leconair's drink. She smiles nervously, her eyes flicking between the elf, and Rath. As the only one here wearing a weapon - and a sizeable one at that - the young girl is obviously intimidated by him.
Once she leaves, grateful to be away from your table, you continue your conversation. Suppertime is obviously imminent, as the smell of roasting meat begins to mingle with the aromas of ale, sawdust and men having done an honest day's work.
As food is brought out to eager diners, the noise level drops enough for occasional snatches of conversation to drift around the room.
...tragic, really, after the business with that wagonload of goats...
...and he had the cheek to ask for *2* silver pieces...
...yes my child, the ceremony will take place once the reliquary arrives...
...to be honest, I'd rather have had real pork, but what can you do?...
...at this rate I'll have to hire an extra couple of workers to lift it...
...Councillor Censa must be skimming the taxes; I hear the bard he hired for the equinoxe celebration isn't cheap...
...he wasn't looking so clever after I hit him with the rake...
...it's true I tell you: it had teeth as long as daggers, and ran off into Ruddicrum's barley field...
Johan focuses his attention on the Ruddicrum conversation. Looks to find the identity of the speaker.
Perception:
Also looks to determine the identity of the priest mentioning the reliquary.
Perception:
Well, Rath. Looks like there won't be any shortage of work. Perhaps looking into the beast in Radicrum's field could prove profitable. Or maybe we could volunteer to help with the celebration in some way. Perhaps as bodyguards or security forces. I'm up for anything. What say you? Worth looking into?
Hey, I was just thinking that somebody here may just be needing a bit of help, and well, I'm kind of separated from my group right now. What do you think about teaming up if there's a bit of work here? For an equitable share of the profits, of course. Leconair looks at Johan expectantly, while continuing to strain to hear the various conversations.
Johan attempts to filter out the conversation about the alleged incident in the barley field. The speaker is one of a group of locals, who, from the rosy tinge to his complexion is partial to the local brew. In fact, as his drinking partners mug their horror at his tale, he takes a healthy slug from his tankard. As he is doing so, you can't help but notice the knowing looks passing between some of them.
As regards the priest, he is a middle aged man, unremarkable save for his attire: the plain grey robes worn by the priesthood in these parts. The only thing that appears to distinguish which saint they venerate is a heraldic design on the breast of the robes. Observing him further for several minutes, he gets up to use the restroom, and at that point you notice that the emblem he bears is that of a corn stalk.
Rath nods, looking at both Johan and Leco in turn. "Seems reasonable - particularly the part about an equitable share of the profits. Provided there are any."
He tries to recall any knowledge he has/rumors he's heard regarding Ruddicrum's Field and also Councilor Censa.
Knowledge: Local
Knowledge: Local
Despite making a conscious effort NOT to remember too much about this place, Rath recalls that Councillor Censa is head of the town council (effectively the mayor), and that he is in charge of organising the annual harvest festival. This year the appearance of the holy artifact is to be a special part of the celebration.
It will be on display in the church from tomorrow so the townspeople can gaze upon it. In the evening there is to be a feast, and supposedly a performance by a bard who has been hired - they are travelling a considerable distance to be here.
As far as Ruddicrum's field, he never heard it mentioned before tonight.
"I suggest we follow this Ruddicrum's field lead. It may turn out to be nothing, but we'll never know unless we investigate further. If there is a beast, and we take care of it, perhaps Councilor Censa would discreetly compensate us - after all, there's an important festival going on, and he's gone to a lot of trouble. I doubt he'd want talk of monsters spoiling it."
Having said his piece, the half-elf raises his tankard to his lips and returns to silence, ogling the barmaid as she goes about her business.
Biding your time, you wait til the teller of the tale of Ruddicrum's field has excused himself momentarily, then approach his drinking comrades.
Your enquiry about where the field is, and something more substantial to go on are met with silence for a moment...then one fellow, a chubby, amiable sort with a deep tan and receding hair smiles and says:
'Strangers, old Joenso is the biggest liar in the town. There's barely a week goes by where he hasn't seen some ghost or goblin lurking in an alleyway. He's quite well known to the Watch for his fanciful tales, I tell you'.
His friends laugh heartily in agreement, before returning to their conversation at the sight of Joenso, swaying slightly as he returns to the bar.
Johan attempts to filter out the conversation about the alleged incident in the barley field. The speaker is one of a group of locals, who, from the rosy tinge to his complexion is partial to the local brew. In fact, as his drinking partners mug their horror at his tale, he takes a healthy slug from his tankard. As he is doing so, you can't help but notice the knowing looks passing between some of them.
As regards the priest, he is a middle aged man, unremarkable save for his attire: the plain grey robes worn by the priesthood in these parts. The only thing that appears to distinguish which saint they venerate is a heraldic design on the breast of the robes. Observing him further for several minutes, he gets up to use the restroom, and at that point you notice that the emblem he bears is that of a corn stalk.
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
Knowledge (Religion):
Johan shares what he knows with his companions.
Teaming up seems the best approach. Count me in!
Biggest liar in town, eh? Where I'm from, the biggest liars often divulge the truth and are ignored. I say we track this fellow down and see what's what. As soon as I finish my dinner, that is...
Rath's expectations have been lowered slightly by the description given by Joenso's companions. It wouldn't be the first time a superstitious farmer had imagined a monster to use as a scapegoat in order to explain away perfectly natural (if unfortunate) occurrences, then tried to enlist his aid and waste his time. The potential for reward is enough to keep him interested, however, so he decides to question Joenso directly in order to determine the truth of the matter.
"I am Rath. My companions and I happened to overhear about your encounter with the beast. If you tell us all you know, we may be able to help."
Joenso is slightly taken aback by the half-elf's abrupt manner. His bleary eyes take a moment to focus, and his first reaction to the sight of Rath's sword is to try and take a step backwards - except the bar blocks that route.
After a moment, realising his inquisitor isn't intent on setting about him, he hitches up his trousers, belches loudly, and leans in consipiratorially.
It was 2 nights ago. I was walking home from here and I saw a shape come out from behind Weston's bakery and run off. I followed it til it made for Ruddicrum's field, then the clouds parted and the moonlight hit it. I tell you, stranger, whatever it was, it put the fear of the All Father in me', he makes some sort of warding gesture as he says so, 'those claws looked like they could tear a man open like a loaf of bread. Long as daggers they were!'
He gives a firm nod at the last point, then turns and swallows a long draught from his tankard.
Turning back to the warrior he whispers 'I'll show you the spot, for a silver!'
Rath's amber eyes narrow and he gives Joenso a stony stare.
"Don't push your luck, friend."
Intimidate check (if necessary)
"Can you describe the creature? Did it walk upright, or on all fours? Was it man-sized? Anything you can tell me might help."
Knowledge: Arcana check
Knowledge: Dungeoneering check
Knowledge: Local check
Knowledge: Nature check
Knowledge: The Planes check
As Leconair follows the conversation, he tries to piece sort through the words and decipher what they could be facing...
K:Arcana
K:Dungeoneering
K:Local
K:Nature
K:Religion
K:The Planes
To Joenso: My good man, we cannot afford a silver, but it would be my pleasure to buy your next round if you show me the location where you spotted this beast.
Diplomacy:
At the prospect of a free drink, Joenso brightens. He signals the barman and points at a dusty looking bottle at the end of one shelf. The barman takes it down and pours a glass of thick, greenish liquid into a fresh glass.
Joenso licks his lips, raises the glass, and with a 'your very good health, my friend' drains it in one go. Reaching for his hat, he stumbles slightly, then says 'thish way, my fine fellows, thish way to the *hic* lair of the beasht...'.
As you turn to follow him, from the bar you hear '*ahem*...5 coppers for the drink, if you please.
Opening the bar door, Joenso takes a moment to get his bearings, then points down the street and starts striding in that direction, with the occasional lurch to one side or the other. He leads you to the end of a row where in the darkness you can smell the faint aroma of bread, as if the ovens have been fired up in preparation for tomorrow's loaves.
Rounding the corner, Joenso confidently points at a pile of discarded boxes beside a wall and says 'thing flew right out of there, and off down that way'. Turning a little too quickly, he stumbles and pitches headfirst into a pile of old grain sacks. Evidently disturbed by this, a large rat emerges, nose twitching, before scurrying further down the alley.
Your 'guide', meanwhile, appears to be out for the count.
'Well', says Rath, 'so much for that. I've thought about it and can think of several beasts with claws of the size he described. What of you others?'
'What do you mean claws?' says Leconair, 'he said it had *teeth* as long as daggers!'
A horrible realisation washes over your group. Johan prods Joenso awake with the toe of his boot. 'This beast of yours, describe it again for us' he orders the drunk.
Joenso looks up momentarily, before pointing a trembling finger behind you. 'There', he says, 'there's the blighter'
Spinning, you see that he is pointing at... the rat. The rat, realising it's tasty meal has been interrupted, runs off into the night.
A few seconds later, lusty snoring can be heard from the sacks.
Johann laughs heartily at the situation and pats his comrades on the back.
Looks like we've had a bit of a run around tonight. What say we return to the taverne for a nightcap before retiring? Maybe we can learn more about this festival and see if we can find some honest work there. Personally, I'm a bit intrigued about the nature of the "reliquary" that's due to arrive soon.
Johann spreads Joenso's cloak over his sleeping body, and turns back toward the Taverne.
Perception:
Leconair laughs in response. "Let me buy you whatever it was he had. That must've been some drink," he calls out as he follows Johan back to the Taverne.
Shaking his head, Rath ponders searching the sleeping Joenso for anything of value, but just as quickly realizes that if he was willing to dupe a sword-wielding half-elf and his companions for a drink, he's not likely to have a bulging coin purse. Fantasizing about the many colorful ways he'd like to avenge the waste of time (and lack of reward), he returns to the bar with the others.
A wild goose (or rat) chase after all it appears. Disappointed, but ultimately not surprised, at finding no excitement you turn to head back to the tavern.
The night air is warm and pleasant as you go back by the direct route - along the main street - rather than via the back alleys by which Joenso led you to the bakery. With most of the townspeople already abed in preparation for an early start tomorrow, there is little activity to be seen or heard.
And so the sound of horses' hooves and the rattle of wheels seems almost unnaturally loud to your ears. You step to the side of the road as a fine carriage of black oak, the window shutters closed, passes you. Pulled by 2 chestnut horses, the driver, sitting high at the front, is wrapped in a travelling cloak and wears a stovepipe hat.
As you watch, the vehicle reaches the end of the road, where the driver expertly guides the horses around the corner and out of sight.
Arriving at your destination, you find almost all of the clients have headed home, or to bed, leaving the innkeeper and the barmaid to clean up. After a swift nightcap, those of you staying here collect your keys and head upstairs to the room you have reserved, while the others make the short journey to their lodgings.
Before parting, you agree to meet again here tomorrow after breakfast.
The following morning dawns bright and beautiful - going to be another fine day.
Having broken your fast in your chosen way, and performed any morning rituals, you have reconvened in The Stoop tavern.
Many of the locals have taken advantage of the favourable weather to start early, and one or two are already making their way in for a second breakfast of the day.
While you debate your options, an excited boy bursts into the bar, rushes up to one of the workers and says breathlessly 'Da, quick, a Knight is coming'.
In most other places the appearance of a 'knight' would hardly be an event of note, yet this seems to be a source of interest to the locals, as the occupants of the table, closely followed by the budding musician you saw last night, get up and head out into the street.
Curious, you follow the workers, and see a small crowd is standing outside. A murmur of excitement rises from them and you look to the end of the street where you are momentarily dazzled as a beam of bright light catches your eyes. Shielding your gaze from the glare, as its source gets closer you realise it is a figure on horseback, walking slowly along the road. The flash which blinded you was the sunlight reflecting off the figure's armour - now here, finally, is something impressive.
When the rider is close enough for you to make out more detail, you see that it is actually a middle-aged woman, with short cropped brown hair streaked with grey. And she is wearing a magnificent set of full plate polished to a mirror sheen, and apparently not made of metal, but of opaque rose-coloured glass.
Several small children break from the crowd and run to the horse, touching its flanks as it passes. The woman looks down on them, smiling radiantly.
Slowly the horse and rider make their way along the street and out of sight, at which point the workers return to the tavern to finish eating.
Rath observes the 'knight' in silence, intrigued by the unusual set of plate she wears. He wonders how she is involved with the festival, and is reminded of the young warrior woman from the tavern the night before. It would seem this festival is attracting a good deal of muscle - perhaps the Councilor is going to great lengths to protect his investment.
"Perhaps we should speak directly to this Councilor Censa, since he seems to be in charge. I'd like to know what is going on." And how I can profit from it, he doesn't add.
Sounds like a plan. Now, I wonder where Censa would be at this time of the day?"
All things being considered, if Councillor Censa is organising the celebrations, he is likely hard at work as you speak. The Town Hall would seem a reasonable place to look, you think.
Leconair makes a move towards the Town Hall, hoping for Johan and Rath to follow. "I wonder if Joenso made it through the night safely last night."
Heading through town, the streets are already buzzing with people about their daily activities. As it is harvest season, a few wagons of crops have been brought in, and as well as their normal routine, many people appear to be planning for the celebrations. Bunting has been strung between houses, children place flowers and freshly cut sheaves of corn on the sides of buildings, and crews work to clean the streets of debris and dirt.
As you approach the town hall itself, you see numerous people coming in and out. Enquiring of one of the locals where you might find the Councillor, he points you towards a lean distinguished looking man in his 50s who is speaking to a group of workers on the front steps - apparently giving them instructions.
As they start to move away, you take the chance to approach the Councillor. He has grabbed a hammer and box of nails, and is heading in the direction of a small stand of seats which is being constructed on one side of the square. He sees you approaching and seems to sense your intention to speak to him.
'Good day to you' he says. 'I have to help with this' he motions to the work 'but we can walk and talk if you wish?'
Knowledge(Religion): to determine if anything regarding the knight's armor can tell me what deity she may worship (I'm assuming she's some sort of Paladin).
Ah, Councilor Censa. Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. I am Johan Seiberling, and this is Leconair and Rath. We would like to inquire about the events to be held during your festival, and to see if we could possibly be of any assistance.
Johan smiles warmly at the councilor, and offers to carry some of his tools.
The Councillor acknowledges your greeting with a smile of his own.
'Well met to you, and the All Father's blessings this day. Perhaps you'd like to help me putting up some more seats?' he says, offering Johan a hammer.
Seeing the look of confusion (or disdain!) on your faces, he grins and puts the tool back in a box.
'But from your garb, I assume labouring is not the sort of assistance you had in mind?'
Good Sir, while I would be happy to help you with the seating, my companions and I were hoping for something a bit more...<ahem>...substantial. Something we could do to put our skills to a better use. We have noticed quite a few new visitors to town - some friendlier than others - and we thought we could help you maintain security for your festival's guests and the exhibits you hope to display. For a fee, of course.
Diplomacy:
The Councillor raises an eyebrow quizzically.
'Unfriendly visitors, you say. That doesn't sound so good'. He shakes his head, with a worried look.
'What services are you gentlemen offering? And what sort of fee did you have in mind?' he enquires, earnestly.
Sense Motive:
I believe we can offer you a substantial upgrade to your current security measures. As for our fee, Rath seems more knowledgeable about the going rate for the services we offer, so I will defer to his recommendation. Friend Rath, would you care to provide the good councilor with a rate quote?
Perception: Looking to see if anyone is watching us, and to locate a likely spot for the reliquary ceremony to take place.
'So you think perhaps our current 'security' could do with revision? Perhaps an outside eye spotting something we've missed?' says the Councillor. 'I see... So what would you propose to do for this, as yet to be specified, fee?
Why, our standard service, of course - round the clock protection of any item or individual you specify. Restricted access to the item or individual based on your instructions/requirements. Assessment of your current security measures, and recommendations for improvement. Interrogation of any individual who wishes access to the item or individual regarding their identity, point of origin, and reason for wishing access to the item or individual.
And, if you upgrade to our Full Coverage Package (which I highly recommend. It is really worth the little bit extra), retrieval of ANY property NOT secured by us that is stolen once we are under contract, should this become necessary.
As you can see, this is a service your festival may find invaluable as the big day approaches.
Diplomacy:
Sense Motive check (as requested):
Admiring Johan's cunning, Rath crosses his arms and looks thoughtful.
"Well, being the pious men we are, and understanding the importance of the ceremony, we'd be willing to offer our services to you at a discounted rate." He lies.
"Shall we say two hundred gold pieces each for every day in your employ, effective immediately? If you opt for our full coverage package, we'll only charge an additional fee of two hundred gold pieces, half of which we'll refund to you in the event of a serious mishap on our watch. I assure you, you won't find better protection at this price."
"Of course, in order to do our jobs effectively, we have a few other conditions. The full cooperation of the council and permission to exercise necessary force goes without saying. We also require permission to confiscate and keep the possessions of anyone who might threaten our mission."
He turns to his companions.
"Am I leaving anything out?"
"Perhaps, if you would like to commit to our services for a sufficient length of time and pay in advance, perhaps we would consider a further discount." Leconair suggests.
[ooc]edited to bold the spoken text[ooc]
'Well gentlemen' says the Councillor, putting down the hammer and wiping his hands on a cloth 'let me see if I've got this right'.
'Our small town, like many others in the land, is holding our annual harvest festival. A festival at which we've never had any trouble, where nobody has ever needed 'protection', and where there is nothing of value to steal, apart' he says 'from the priceless relic which we are blessed to have with us *this* year'.
'The same year that three disreputable looking individuals happen to also appear in town. One of them threatens one of the pillars of the local community' he gives Rath a distasteful look as he says this 'then they appear here uttering all sorts of dark threats about what might happen if the town isn't prepared to pay them a king's ransom to do something'.
'Let me give you a bit of advice:' he says 'if you are considering entering the protection racket business, consider doing it somewhere else!'
With that he turns back to his work, before favouring you all with a final dark look. 'I'll give you the rest of the day to get your affairs in order. You are not welcome in this town; if the Watch find you here this evening I'll have you locked up and your case will be put in front of the law on the morrow - fortunately we have a knight with us so the judgement will be swift. Now, get out of my sight.'
Myridan's Bones! This one's a tough egg to crack!
Johan turns back to the Councilor.
Diplomacy:
My good man, you misunderstand us. We are not in the "protection racket" business. We are honest men looking for work. Even you must admit that adding a priceless relic to your festival inherently requires more security than you've had in the past. In any case, if our motives were unjust, would we have approached you for employment in the first place?
I will assume your comments about leaving town were a result of a spur of the moment reaction, and continue to enjoy the entertainment this town has to offer, and the festival as well. If you reconsider our offer, we will be at The Stoop.
Good day to you, Sir. Sorry for the bother.