TheRPGSite

[Would you all simply post your characters to the thread. Once that is done i will put the introductory post up]

Name:  Yared the Lesser
Race:  Human
Alignment:  Lawful Neutral
Classes:  Cleric 3
Experience:  3000

===  Ability Scores  ===

STR: 12
DEX: 10
CON: 9
INT: 10
WIS: 14
CHA: 10

===  Combat Statistics  ===

Hit Points:  16
Armor Class:  7 *cries*
THAC0: 20
Weapon Proficiencies : Morning star, heavy war hammer, and staff

===  Saving Throws  ===

[14] - Rod, Staff, Wand
[16] - Breath Weapons
[10] - Death, Paralysis, Poison
[13] - Petrifaction, Polymorph
[15] - Spells

Memorized Spells:  

First Level: Command, Cure Light Wounds (x2) and Light
Second Level: Resist Fire

===  Hirelings and Animals  ===
Melat the Groom (paid 2 gp for the month) STR: 10 DEX: 10 CON: 8 INT: 13 WIS: 15 CHA: 11 HP: 3
Eyab the Cook  (paid 2 gp for the month) STR: 11 DEX: 12 CON: 15 INT: 6 WIS: 12 CHA: 4 HP: 4
Hirdan the Servant (paid 5 for the month) STR: 8 DEX: 13 CON: 9 INT: 3 WIS: 10 CHA: 8 HP: 4
All are equipped with leather armor, a sling and a dozen bullets.
One mule
One pony
One ox
Total cost of hiring, buying and equipping them: 73 gp 5 sp

===  Equipment  ===

Equipment carried by animals:
One barrel with 30 pints of lamp oil (carried by donkey).
Barrel filled with to the brim with water (carried by the ox).
20 days standard rations (carried by the pony).

Total cost of stuff carried by animals: 47

Personal equipment:
Studded Leather Armor
Morning Star
Holy symbol, wooden
Pint of honey
Pint of firewater
Staff (am paying 6 sp for it to have it be nice-looking and carved)
Sistrum (am paying 1 gp for it)
Flint and steel
Remaining money: 2 gp

===  Encumbrance  ===

47 pounds, can move 90 ft/round

===  Height & Weight  ===

Normal; 5'6" tall; 212-lbs.
Age:  22-yrs.

===  Money  ===
Starting Gold:  150
Current Gold:  2


===  Appearance  ===

A tubby black man with a cherubic face, Yared the Lesser is usually seen in a spotlessly clean but plain black cassock with his hair covered by a tight-fitting hood. However, while performing religious ceremonies he removed his cassock and displays his that has been eyed a brilliant sun-yellow and trimmed neatly into a solar halo.

Yared's holy symbol is an eyeless lion head surrounded by a solar halo.

===  Deity  ===

Yared the Lesser serves the King in Splendor, a lion-headed solar deity whose priests claim will one day slay Night forever so that the world is bathed in eternal summer:

The Lion in Splendor went down through the gates of darkness and the arteries of the earth. He saw the black water of the Sunless Sea, rise up, bubbling and boiling. But he commanded the Woman’s hound to lap at the water and the Lion walked on with dry feet and the hound laps still, his bitch crying in darkness for its mate. But as the Lion passed the hound’s teeth tore away his mane.

The Lion in Splendor went down through the gates of fire and their burning glow. Enter it and you die, see it and you burn. But he seized the Woman’s dragon and cast her contorted to the ground and she gnawed at the rock of the underworld and the Lion walked on with head unbowed and the dragon gnaws still and breathes flames no more. But as the Lion passed the dragon’s claws tore away his hide.

The Lion in Splendor went down through the gates of smoke and heard the chants and calls of witchcraft. Who taught the frightening ugliness of these lies? But he called the Woman’s iron bull and its snorts cast away the mists and vapors and the Lion walked on free of sorcery and the iron bull snorts still and treads upon the wicked. But as the Lion passed the bull’s horns pieced his eyes.

Then the Lion in Splendor was without mane, hide or eyes and all that was left of him was a blind man lost in the place of darkness and consuming fire. The terrible Woman locked his hands with manacles and placed every temptation before him but he was a king still, the King in Splendor, and denied them all. And, as morning came, he tore his chains and took up the slaver’s whip and the Woman tore clumps of hair from her head as he ascended into the sky, the Lion in Splendor once more.

Darkness cannot be measured by light. The consuming fires do not light the house of gloom and the waters of the Sunless Sea have no sparkle. In darkness creatures grow and form and harbor malice in their minds. The children of darkness are nothing, but the children of light stay. The house of evil is nothing and its consuming fires die. Its sorceries die and end and have no place in the eternity of light. They come to nothing. The generations of light will stay forever. The words of light will rise and illuminate the world in everlasting light.

Priests of the King in Splendor are famous for schisms and factional disputes and their temples are lighthouses, even the ones located far from the sea.

In statues (especially on the top of said lighthouses) the King is depicted either as: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d2/Lion-faced_deity.jpg/150px-Lion-faced_deity.jpg or as a well-muscled human male with a blind lion's head with broken manacles in one hand and a slaver's whip in the other.

===  Background  ===

Not so long ago a heresy began spreading through the Golden Realm, as they so often do. Some priests decided that the traditional rubies should be removed from statues of the King in Splendor as providing eyes to the blind god was a mockery and because do you know how much rubies cost?

One of the leaders of this heresy was a priest named Yared who stirred up the common folk and brought the cataphracts of the inquisition down on their heads. Yared's nephew, an overfed youth known as Yared the Lesser, was one of the few who made it out of the country alive.

Since then Yared the Lesser has been wandering these lands spreading the blinding light of the sun to all those who live in darkness and telling all to make sure that no rubies are ever placed in the eyes of statues as that was the great cause that his noble uncle died for.

Name:  Miron Earbeard
Race:  Half-Elf
Alignment:  Neutral
Classes:  Fighter 1/ Magic-User 1/ Thief 1
Experience:  1000/ 1000/ 1000

===  Ability Scores  ===

[15] - STR
[16] - DEX
[15] - CON
[13] - INT
[13] - WIS
[09] - CHA

===  Combat Statistics  ===

[08] - Hit Points (23 with familiar bonus)
[06] - Armor Class (leather + Dex bonus)
[20] - THAC0
Weapon Proficiencies (4 slots; -2 penalty):  Longsword (double-specialized), short bow.

===  Half-Elf  ===

• 30% resistance to sleep and charm spells
• Searching 2/6 for secret door, 3/6 concealed.  Pass concealed door 1/6.
• Languages:  Common, elven, gnoll, gnome, goblin, halfling, hobgoblin, orcish.
• Infravision: 60-ft.
• Movement Rate:  120-ft.

===  Saving Throws  ===

[11] - Rod, Staff, Wand
[15] - Breath Weapons
[13] - Death, Paralysis, Poison
[12] - Petrifaction, Polymorph
[12] - Spells

===  Thief Abilities  ===

Backstab (+4 to hit; x2 damage)
Thieves' Cant
[80%] - Climb Walls
[25%] - Find Traps
[10%] - Hear Noise
[25%] - Hide in Shadows
[20%] - Move Quietly
[35%] - Open Locks
[45%] - Pick Pockets
[01%] - Read Languages


===  Spell Book  ===

1st Level (4):  Detect Magic, Find Familiar, Read Magic, Sleep

Memorized Spells:  Sleep

===  Familiar  ===

Name:  Tinenwor
Pseudo-Dragon (p. 303)
Hit Points: 15
Size:  Small (18 inches)
Move:  60-ft; 240-ft. flying (AA:V)
Armor Class:  2
Hit Dice:  2
Attacks: 1
Damage:  1d3
Special Attacks:  Poison Sting
Special Defenses:  Chameleon power
Magic Resistance:  35%
Intelligence:  Average
Alignment:  Neutral good

===  Equipment  ===

Shirt, pants, loincloth, boots.
Longsword (1d8/1d12; Enc 7; 15 GP)
Leather armor (AC -2; 15 lbs; Move 120-ft; 5 GP)

===  Encumbrance  ===

Carried:  27 lbs.
Weight Adjustment:  20 lbs.
Maximum Movement:  120-ft.
Surprise:  +1 (for armor lighter than chain mail only)

===  Height & Weight  ===

Normal; 5'8" tall; 142-lbs.
Age:  30-yrs.

===  Money  ===
Starting Gold:  200

Gold:  0
Silver:  0
Copper:  0

Debit: Owe Iowain 22 or 24 GP

===  Background  ===

Miron Earbeard had found himself in Pratts Landing after his last major adventure.  He had become with friends of some of the locals and was flush with coin from the job.  It was in Pratts Landing where he summoned his familiar, Tinenwor, a pseudo-dragon.  It had been nearly a year to the day since he first attempt to summon a familiar failed, and this time luck was with him and he was able to call a special familiar instead of the usual animals that answered a wizard's summons.  Miron had become a fixture in the Enchanted Centaur Tavern since his arrival to Pratts Landing, and good friends with the owner, Oraithlo Dreall.  

It was Oraithlo who introduced Miron to the beautiful courtesan, Bourli Couller.  It was probably the fact that Miron never used her services that endeared him to her, and they often shared meals and conversations in the Enchanted Centaur Tavern.  Miron was never particularly devout to any of the gods, but, like most people in Pratts Landing, both Oraithlo and Bourli were members of the church of Poseideo.  Although he casually knew that there were three open factions of the church operating in Pratts Landing, Miron never really took the time to get involved with the church nor its politics.  

However, when his friends both came to him with a serious job, Miron listened to them and took on the job.  Currently, the three factions of the church of Poseidon were peaceful and neutral toward each other.  This state of status-quo was held in place by an ancient treaty negotiated by the leaders of the church of Poseidon.  Bourli learned through one of her more talkative clients in the church of Poseidon that the ancient treaty that held the factions in check from open conflict was about to be sabotaged purposefully by one of the factions as a power play.  The client bragged about how he helped pen the plan for his church elder, and how he spelled it all out for his superior in a document.  

Bourli brought this information to Oraithlo since he was a respected citizen and layman in the church of Poseidon.  She knew that she could not do anything meaningful with the information herself, but as a devote church member felt a responsibility to do something about the plot that was about to unfold.  They came to Miron to obtain the document from the offices of the priest at the second largest cathedral in town.  Miron's saving were dwindling fast staying the Enchanted Centaur Tavern and so he took the job.

Miron was able to obtain the document with the help of Tinenwor, but was seen by the church Templars as he fled the cathedral with it.  Luckily, Tinenwor's magical resistance aided Miron against the Templars' spells as he escaped into the streets of Pratts Landing.  Miron brought the document to Oraithlo, and then hastily packed his few belongings.  After a quick and quiet farewell to his friends, Miron made a hasty exit from Pratts Landing while looking over his shoulder for Poseidonite Templars.  He was nearly caught on the docks in the crapper, but after a harrowing chase, mad dash, and incredible jump onto the deck of the moving boat, he was able to effect his escape from Pratts Landing with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Kazmak, male half-orc, 3rd-level Bounty Hunter (modified Assassin)

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

AC: 5 (studded leather + Dex bonus)

HP: 13 (Invisible Castle roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4339391/))

Str 14, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 6.

Special abilities:

• Backstab (+4 to hit and x2 damage from behind)
• Capture or incapacitate foe (on a surprise attack; base 65%, -5% for every two levels/HD of the target)
• Disguise
• Tracking (90% in the wilderness, 65% in cities or dungeons)
• Thief abilities (CW 80%, FT 25%, HN 10%, HiS 20%, MS 20%, OL 30%, PP 35%, RL 1%)

Gear:

• Studded leather armor
• Daggers (2)
• Longsword
• Light crossbow
• Belt quiver with 24 bolts
• Backpack
• Bedroll
• Waterskin
• 7 days of standard rations
• 2 sets of manacles
• 100' of hemp rope
• Thieves' tools
• Cloak
• Gloves
• Heavy boots
• Flint & steel
• Hooded lantern
• 3 pints of oil

Money: 18gp and 5sp (from 170gp starting funds; IC roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4339401/))

Kazmak was raised amongst a particularly unsavory clan of slavers and kidnappers, which was eventually slaughtered in a gang war the rocked his home city's underworld. As one of the few, if not the sole survivor, he put his people-taking skills to a slightly more wholesome use by moving from frontier town to frontier town collecting bounties on everything from petty criminals to dangerous monsters. He usually follows contracts to the letter, and all else being equal, prefers to deliver his marks alive; he'll kill if he has to, but he views assassination with distaste.

When not disguised, he's a short, squat half-orc with a proeminent jaw, slightly jutting canines and a broken nose. He keeps his hair very short and bears a small scar over his left eye. He's not the most sociable member of a notoriously unsociable trade, but he's easygoing enough when among trusted comrades (a rarity these days) and a bit too fond of his ale.

He was tracking down a mark in Pratt's Landing when he mistakenly broke into the house of a priest of Poseidon (who knows which faction) and hastily threw his lot in with the current outfit to leave town ASAP.

Name:  Iowain, the sickly novitiate
Race:  Human Alignment:  Neutral Good Classes:  Cleric 1 Experience:  ?

===  Descriptors  ===

Age: 17 Height: 5' 7" Weight: 132 lbs. Hair: dirty blond Eyes: dark brown
Notes: sickly; favors warm clothes, smells of liniment.

===  Ability Scores  ===

STR: 9
DEX: 4    -2 Surprise Bonus; -2 Missile to hit; +3 AC adjustment
CON: 5    -1 HP per HD; 50% Rez/Raise Dead; 45% System Shock
INT: 6
WIS: 9     15% Spell Fail
CHA: 12

===  Combat Statistics  ===

Hit Points:  7  Armor Class:  10  THAC0: 20
Weapon Proficiencies club, sling, staff.

===  Saving Throws  ===

[14] - Rod, Staff, Wand
[16] - Breath Weapons
[10] - Death, Paralysis, Poison
[13] - Petrifaction, Polymorph
[15] - Spells

===  Spells  ===

Slots: 1/
Memorized: Protect from Heat/Cold

===  NWP  ===

art: knit, etiquette, herbs, read/write.

===  Equipment  ===

$13.30 - A Donkey! (I call him Francis). Saddle Bags large. Saddle Blanket. Rope hemp.

$0.05 - Club. Sling. Stones x5. Staff.

$12.50 - Liniment jars. Tallow box. Mortal & Pestle. Herb Purse (various, low on rare old home herbs, lots of unknown new home herbs). Backpack.
($0.50 iron pot x5. $2.00 large iron pot. $5.0 block & tackle. $1.00 large belt pouch. $2.00 backpack.)

$7.42 - Knitting Satchel (needles, yarn, etc.). Novitiate robes x2. Undergarments x2. Personal sweater, scarf, knit cap, socks, & fingerless gloves set.
($0.20 large sack. $5.0 block & tackle. $0.00 supplied uniform x2. $0.80 Tunic x2. {$0.80 good cloth cloak, $0.20 sash, $0.10 cap, $1.00 shoes, $1.00 gloves = $3.10. Only 20% cost for materials because handmade = $0.62.})

$0.33 - SALE Spare scarfs x3, spare caps x4, spare tea cozies & cravats x8.
($0.20 sash x3, $0.10 caps x4, $0.08 coarse toga x8 = $1.64. Handmade, thus only 20% = $0.33)

$10.01 - $7.00 Small Tent. $0.10 Winter Blanket x5. $0.20 Wineskins x3. $0.50 Iron Pot. $0.10 Flour x3. $0.10 Rice. $0.20 Raisins. $0.10 Salt. $0.06 Oil x2. $0.05 Herbs x2. $0.10 Bucket. $0.20 Large Sack x2. $0.05 Small Sack x4.

$22.00 - Diary. "Customs Among the Heathens" guidebook. "Proselytize Graciously" KoS essays. KoS Holiday Calendar. "A Warmth Surrounding" KoS Hymnal. Radiant Lion Head Holy Symbol.
($2.00 hand-sewn diary, 1 paper folded trigesimo-segundo, 32 leaves, 64 pages. $10.00 buy guidebook. $10.00 maybe buy essays. calendar, hymnal, & holy symbol assumed given)

OHT, determine starting novitiate gear costs as you please. I assume novitiate robes and a few books will be provided upon joining.

===  Encumbrance  ===

Carried:  just clothes & knitting satchel at starting inn.
Weight Adjustment: +0 adj.?
Maximum Movement: 12 Mv?
Surprise: -2

===  Money  ===
Starting Gold:  (3d6x10) roll= 5,5,3.    130 gp so far. Current expenses = -$65.61 Remain = $64.39
I don't include the +50 gp because I'm 1st lvl.

Gold:  30
Silver:  40
Copper:  39
Favors/Credit:  30 (OHT decides whenever convenient; maybe church friends, port captains/caravan leaders, Cadsandria locals, etc.)
Miron - credited 20 gp. terms: +2 gp upon repayment, + 2 gp if over 1 mo.

===  Background  ===

Fell deathly ill from pleurisy progressing into pneumonia as a child. The fever nearly killed him, but also ended up saving his life. The warmth and radiance of the sun figured heavily on Iowain's fevered delusions, and thus a sense of calling towards the church, celebrating the King of Splendor, conqueror of cold and winter.

Stunted from the traumatic illness, and chased by repeated pleuritic bouts, his childhood seemed to end early. Living cautiously with a sense of joyous martyrdom Iowain joined the King of Splendor seminary just before massive persecution. It all makes sense to him, like the fall into winter before the triumph of the sun. He does not expect to see the glorious return bodily, but among the church triumphant. Meanwhile he seeks to shelter and comfort those exposed from the coming cold for as long as his borrowed time grants.

Having decided to explore the possibility of helping find the Duke of Craghold a suitable bride you enter the low building of the crier that nestles next to the notices pillar.

Reclining behind a desk stacked high with rolled parchments and crusty bread is a corpulent man in a red crushed velvet doublet - his slippered feet crushing the top layer of documents atop the table.

On your entrance the man shuffles to his feet (scattering sheafs of parchment hither and thither) and bows low, "Kelvin the Red at your service gentlemen."

On hearing of your interest in the Dule of Craghold's dilemma, he scratches at his whiskery chin before retaking his seat. He motions to a low bench along one wall and once you are seated speaks in a rich, rolling voice.

"Hmm, yes, Craghold. Well, if you are interested in helping with their problems it is but a short journey to the south. There's a merchant's trail from here. Wends through some of the low foothills of the Viceroy Mountains - nothing too tricky. About 6-8 hours by foot, ride hard and it's probably 4 or 5. It's an old place, older than here, that's for sure. Some say the Justini Dukes have ruled there for 800 years. Like any dynasty, tradition seems to become entrenched over the centuries. Well, one of the traditions of Craghold is the new Dukes marry into one of the three nobles families of the Duchy."

"Trouble is that only the Uvio family has a daughter of marriageable age, what with the Duke being only ten years old! Lost his father last year to the Ghost Wind and Craghold has been ruled since then by the Regent, Zavus."

"You'll need to seek out Zavus for more details, but given the tense political situation the loss of the previous Duke has caused, i believe he wants to break with tradition and at least seek out alternative brides for the young Duke. Might keep the other families happy, i guess. Then again it might backfire spectacularly!"

"Oh, a word of warning gentlemen, the Owen mines are currently closed because of problems with new-found caverns, and strange goings on. The Owens are one of the other noble families of Craghold and Lord Owen seems to lay the blame for recent events in his mines on Lady Uvio. How he thinks she placed new caves in his mines in order to get her daughter married to the Duke is anyones guess! But tough times rob even the intelligent of their wits at times."

"Can i help you with anything else?"

Miron smiles and says, "thank you, Kelvin the Red."

He pauses a moment before asking with an interested tone, "I am not a native of this country and I know not what the 'Ghost Wind' is.  What exactly is the Ghost Wind, if you please?"

Yared's head is spinning a bit trying to keep track of the goings on. He was used his uncle's tales of church politics but those generally didn't involve marriage. Except for that one example of the debate about whether it was heretical for that one monk's vows to be suspended long enough to conceive a child and what do to about the poor girl afterwards, but he didn't think that was especially relevant to the problem at hand.

Yared paused in thought and whispered to his companions, "if they're going to break with tradition to get a wife from outside their inbred knot, she'd have to be someone special. Not sure if we know how to get a woman like that around these parts. I haven't seen a single one with properly sculpted hair."

Quote from: Drohem;718751Miron smiles and says, "thank you, Kelvin the Red."

He pauses a moment before asking with an interested tone, "I am not a native of this country and I know not what the 'Ghost Wind' is.  What exactly is the Ghost Wind, if you please?"

"You may well ask, good Sir. 'Tis an unholy phenomena - one that luckily afflicts climes north of here around Ladenhollow. 'Twas just happenstance that the good Duke was in the region when that ill-wind blew."

"Two or three times a year, a fell wind blows across the Viceroy mountains from the east, carrying with it phantoms that haunt the living. They say that these phantoms lure their victims away into the mountains. Then, when the wind next blows, the phantoms are none other than the last victims! Hideous isn't it?"

The half-elf appears horrified as he says, "indeed.  I'll make it a point not to spend too much time in the north then, I suspect."

"Pardon me, Kelvin the Red, but when you say the Craghold Duchy habitually marries into one of three families, how does this work? Is this a matter about marrying into a certain tier of titled vassals, marrying into the landed nobility upon their duchy, or more dependent upon marrying into these three longstanding families regardless of their status?" Iowain maintains demure eye contact while quietly ticking off stitches.

"Knowing the Justini's reason for such tradition would shorten our search to equivalent peers throughout the kingdom versus regional nobility within the duchy versus any distant relations to those three families." Starting up the next row Iowain continues, "Sorry to be so prying, but it will help us from pursuing leads that may offend; as guests to a new land I wish us to be conscientious."

Leaning in and whispering, but still loud enough for companions to hear, "And if you have the time afterwards, I have questions about the history lectures and silk for sale notices."

Yared the Lesser gave this whole manner careful thought. Perhaps in his salutary enthusiasm to burn things in fire he had made a mistake. His purse was bear and had only enough food to feed his hirelings for a few days, unless of course he butchered Sunbeam the ox, he didn't think even an especially large fire would be enough to convince these barbarians to set aside their squabbling and marry each other like civilized people.

Perhaps there was a solution. Him and his companions could go and investigate these caves. That would win the gratitude of the Owens, clear the name of the Uvios and give them an opportunity to get that Uvio girl married to the Duke. Then everyone would be happy and could be invited to a proper barbecue.

Of course these new caves were probably full of Children of Darkness. Well, that was what that big barrel of oil he had bought was for. He'd burn the lot of them.

OOC: assume that Yared shares his thoughts with the other PCs as soon as they finish asking Kelvin questions. Yared is lost in thought and not interacting much with Kelvin...

"This Lord Owen, he thinks Lady Uvio cooked up trouble in the mines ta marry off her daughter?" Kazmak's eyes glint with greed. "I smell a bounty there. Red man, what do you say of this? What happens at the mines?"

Quote from: Opaopajr;718859"Pardon me, Kelvin the Red, but when you say the Craghold Duchy habitually marries into one of three families, how does this work? Is this a matter about marrying into a certain tier of titled vassals, marrying into the landed nobility upon their duchy, or more dependent upon marrying into these three longstanding families regardless of their status?" Iowain maintains demure eye contact while quietly ticking off stitches.

"Knowing the Justini's reason for such tradition would shorten our search to equivalent peers throughout the kingdom versus regional nobility within the duchy versus any distant relations to those three families." Starting up the next row Iowain continues, "Sorry to be so prying, but it will help us from pursuing leads that may offend; as guests to a new land I wish us to be conscientious."

"I'm afraid that neither rhyme nor reason is mine to relate, good Sir. Craghall is an old-fashioned place with many strange customs that snag at a visitors credulity! Regent Zavus is the man to answer your specific questions."

QuoteLeaning in and whispering, but still loud enough for companions to hear, "And if you have the time afterwards, I have questions about the history lectures and silk for sale notices."

"Of course! I'd be more than happy to."

Kelvin then looks at Kazmak tentatively, "Well, the mines are known hereabouts - not in Craghall, as the slurry pits. The hills around the stronghold are soft limestone and they mine the lime. Of-times, heavy rains turn the interior of the mines to a chalky mess. Thus slurry-pits!"

"As to what is occuring, the notice came with a merchant this morning. I believe that the foreman of the mine has gone missing and that mining equipment has been spoiled. Something else that Lord Owen blames Lady Uvio for. However, the man who relayed the message seems to think they've unearthed some deep delvings and that something dwells there."

"Chills the blood, it does." Kelvin shudders delicately.

"Perhaps we should investigate the occurrences at the mines, " Miron muses out loud offhandedly, "it could help our cause with Regent Zavus in the long run."

"Hmm, at this point I might not be so useful until I learn the ways of our hosts, throughout the various regions. I wonder if I may be so bold as to write to Regent Zavus an introduction and request guidance on being good visitors? Oh, but he'd normally be so busy..." At this his eyes go downcast and his needles slow to a crawl.

"However it may be one of the few things I can do for you, my friends. Let me stay here and run correspondence between groups." The needles pick up rhythm at the speed of Iowain's inspiration. "This way wherever you are you have someone at home here to listen to your victories and troubles. I think this can save time for you all."

Directed to Kelvin, "Are there any groups who draw immediate hostility in certain areas? Last thing I want to receive is news of my companions jailed in an unwelcoming town." Turning to his friends blushing, with a pause between stitches, " I am sorry to put any of us on the spot, but I must take advantage of this chance to know."

Yared quietly concurs with Miron. With his and his companion's current lack of funds any long term plan would quickly result in the whole lot of them running out of funds to pay for food, which would be quite a disaster. Yared could feel his amble stomach grumbling already at the mere thought of it.

Miron frowns at Iowain's subtle self-abasement, but quickly smiles and says in an upbeat tone, "don't be obtuse, Iowain.  Of course we'll need you on this excursion.  We may need your knitting skills to help assuage the cold weather."

"Thank you for your confidence, Miron, but perhaps you misunderstand. People in power tend to avenge slights, even if the intent is kindness." Whipping out a third needle placeholder to create a fabric joint, continues, "And we have learned from our own recent past that sometimes the most dangerous encounter --  besides the always present death from exposure -- is the game between the powerful."

"Just as I cannot in good conscience let our mixed company walk into unfriendly lands blind, I cannot advise we enter The Great Game too, as it were, blind. For though my training may be incomplete in my religion, I took well to the lessons of proper form and awareness." There is now a noticeable bend in the aligned stitches, "Start small, get individual attention, gain confidences, work up towards bigger, more public tasks. It is the formula my guidebooks recommend."

"Marriage is a big deal for nobility, and whole regions. We have time to finish this; state our intentions to help, but do something smaller and more immediate to help. Perhaps the gnolls or the cave instead? Besides, I will be here working and sending remittances as I can." :)

Miron nods thoughtfully at Iowain words and considers them carefully before responding, "well, given how my last intersection with politics played out, I will defer to your experience in these matters.  I suggest that we investigate the mines before we go stalking experienced hunters like gnolls."

"Gnolls or cave, makes little difference to me. Let's go sniff around the thrice-bedamned cave and find or appoint a culprit."

Quote from: Opaopajr;719029Directed to Kelvin, "Are there any groups who draw immediate hostility in certain areas? Last thing I want to receive is news of my companions jailed in an unwelcoming town." Turning to his friends blushing, with a pause between stitches, " I am sorry to put any of us on the spot, but I must take advantage of this chance to know."

"Hmm, let me think," Kelvin taps absently at his bottom lip with a tatty quill. "Communities are few and far between hereabouts, so trade takes precedence over squabbles. Apart from Ganessa, of course, few voluntarily deal with the Gnolls, but they're a good ten days hard travel away."

"No, you're more likely to find problems within Craghall itself."

"That is reassuring. Though that also makes me worry about Craghall more. I won't press the issue, but maybe a friendly letter of introduction to Regent Zavus will at the least not offend -- and at the worst leave us safe distance."

"Kelvin, this may be forward of me, but I and my companions are in need of work, as may seem obvious. However so many of these notices are for places so distant. There is no guarantee that they will be there on time to get the job. Getting there and back with the possibility of nothing to show for it worries me."

"Is there a way they can work for a trade caravan on the way, so that food and some funds will be had at least? The thought of them hungry out there, returning empty, in the cold -- " Iowain has a painfully earnest look overcome him. Shaking it off he resumes looking upward and blinking as if holding back tears, "At any rate I am curious about a position as a domestic around here myself..." trailing off and blushing at such an open request for himself.

-------------------------

OOC: So far I like my big ol' slice of country ham character. "Painfully earnest martyr" is one of those I rarely dip into because of how thick you can lay it on as an NPC. But here I get to be a lowly, self-tormented, 1st level true believing teenager prepared to die. It's like melodrama on toast, in a rollercoaster!
:D

Bear with me for a while yet; we'll separate soon enough!

Yared thought about signing on with a caravan but as tempting as it seemed, caravan masters tend to be suspicious and men with little understanding of other people, especially people like Yared.

The rotund priest put his hand on Iowain's shoulder. "Do not fear my son. We will bore a hold so deep into those caves that no matter how deep we may travel the light of the noonday sun will shine down into the darkness and send the children or murk and shadowing scuttling from us. We shall teach all that live in darkness to fear the bright light and warmth of our faith or our barrel full of lamp oil. Either will do."

Seemingly in good spirits that the decision has been made, the half-elf says cheerfully, "well, then it is decided; we are off to Craighall and the mines.  We should put shoes to trail then while the morning is still young."

Kelvin the Red gestures expansively and utters a grandiose, "Good luck with your venture gentlemen!"

"Oh, on your return, if you want to look for merchant caravans moving about the area i can put up a notice if you like."

Miron smiles as he says in return, "thank you, Kelvin the Red!"

The half-elf walks outside the building and waits for his companions to assemble.  In good spirits, he whistles softly as he watches the townsfolk go about their daily business.

"Hopefully, Yared's retainers are quick to pack his belongings and we can be on our way within the hour," he says quietly to Tinenwor who is camouflaged on his shoulder.

"It seems they came to an agreement," following the companions with his eyes and a smile. "So how about those Tlan lectures and silk bargains? And do you have any leads on jobs in town? Perhaps laundry or apothecary?"

"Do not worry, I am sure that there will be plenty of laundry to do once we get out of the caves."

Yared begins supervising getting his few of hirelings organized.

OOC: want me to roll up stats and HPs for my hirelings? 3d6 in order and how my HPs? 1d4?

Eager to be on their way, Miron rolls up his sleeves and pitches in to help Yared's hirelings prepare the supplies and animals for the trip.

Quote from: Daztur;719735OOC: want me to roll up stats and HPs for my hirelings? 3d6 in order and how my HPs? 1d4?

[Stats probably aren't necessary unless you want to roll them. Yep, 1d4 hits.]

OOC: After info on lectures, silk sales, and job openings in town, I go with Miron to the baths and start my job search. I will try to get apothecary or other herbalist work first, then search for laundry and domestic work later. I will try to find residence in an old pensioners home if possible -- making knits, tea, and smelling of liniments gives us a lot in common. You may handle this as post asides, private messages, or however, so as to not get in the way of the main party quest.

Quote from: One Horse Town;719885[Stats probably aren't necessary unless you want to roll them. Yep, 1d4 hits.]

Rolled up stats for the hirelings. The second one had high Con so I knocked her HPs up one, or does that not apply to hirelings? I do like how my groom is wiser than I am...

Quote from: Daztur;720602Rolled up stats for the hirelings. The second one had high Con so I knocked her HPs up one, or does that not apply to hirelings? I do like how my groom is wiser than I am...

[Fine]

Now that you've collected your gear and decided that Craghold is your preferred destination, you remember Kelvin the Red's words and make your way to the southern gate of the town, where a small trail wends southwards through low, crumbling hills. To your left, these foothills rise to the impressive heights of the Viceroy mountains.

The trail itself is challenging, but thankfully the summer rains have not yet come, so landslides and mulchy ground is not a problem. In fact, as the sun climbs the sky it is quite pleasant and not another soul can be seen on the road.

Might be a nice six or so hours travel...

Yared and his hirelings march through the streets chanting, Yared keeping time by beating his carved staff into the pavement and shaking his sistrum.

OOC: what time of day is it?

Miron is in great spirits and joins in the songs an chants along with Melat, Eyab, and Hirdan as they walk the trail.  The half-elf was happy to be on the road and working toward a goal to better their prospects.  Truth be told, he missed the good life he had in Pratts Landing.

Kazmak disliked the chanting immensely but holds his peace, making for less than congenial company on the road.

Seeing Kazmak's displeasure, Yared launches into another chant that lists all of the pleasures that the undead are unable to partake in and how blessed are the living. The list is rather detailed, especially the parts about the difficulty liches have in consuming beer and the effects of undeath on various useful organs. The humble priest hopes that his truculent companion approves.

OOC: Craghold is only 6 hours away? That's very close. Or perhaps only 6 hours of daylight left to travel...?

Standing at the southern gate Iowain sees his friends off, his clutched needles betraying his anxiety, yet fiercely waving nonetheless in a show of morale. {Mercifully they only see me in silhouette as they head south, I hope. They are so confident, how could I show them my worry?} As Yared's familiar chanting starts up and fades with their increasing distance Iowain indulges himself a parting thought before finding work, {His enthusiasm always made up for his pitch, blessed be. Yet I thank the King for this current respite.}

With a retiring smile he stops waving and returns to face the city in its sunlight.
{And now it is my turn to put myself out into the world,} and walks back into the crowds.

Kaz helps around with the heavy lifting as well and permits himself a chuckle at Yared's raunchier chants when he thinks no one's looking.

As promised, the journey to Craghold takes around 6 hours. You travel through low hills and wend your way around and over streams.

The only traffic on the trail is a pair of old carts drawn by mules that have seen better days and driven by a couple of dour looking men in drab clothes that look about 20 years old.

As the sun reaches its zenith in the sky to your right you spy a small castle, surrounded by a small village in a dell in-front of you. The village is protected by a flimsy hazel fence. Above the village in the surrounding hills you can see several dark holes that doubtless give access to the 'Slurry pits' you were told of.

As you approach the fence, two guards armed with longbows and short-swords wave you through lazily. Your keen eye for such things tells you the cut of their tabards and uniform are from fashions at least ten years old.

As you weave through the low buildings of the village, you spy common folk going about their business and notice prevailing fashions in dress similar to the guards.

A board with a picture of a miner's pick bangs in the wind against the boards of what you presume to be the only inn in the place.

Small and outdated are your first impressions of the Duchy of Craghold.

Although tired and weary from walking nearly half a day, Miron's spirits lift when they enter the village of Craghold.  He fashions a genuine smile to his comrades as they stand before the village inn.

"Well, gentlemen," he says cheerfully, "we have arrived.  Let's see what this quaint place holds in store for us, shall we?"

The half-elf enters the inn with a smile and energetic step.

Yared concurs with Miron and checks with Melat the groom to ensure that his beasts have arrived in good condition.

Kazmak warily eyes the inn and the people around it. Does this town look safe or dangerous? What sort of people come in, go out or hang around the inn?

On entering the inn, the first thing that you notice about The Perky Pick (for that is the name given to you by the inn-keep) that it is anything but. Even though the evening sun is still streaming in, the place is quite full.

However, there is not much merriment. Judging by the clientele - who are mainly dressed in smocks covered in dirty grey-white smudges, the majority of the grim drinkers are miners who should be down the pits.

Talk is low,a buzzing murmur that barely registers on your ears, yet has that annoying mosquito in the dark quality to it.

Folk barely give you a second glance as you enter, caught up in their own thoughts as they are. However, Glarold the innkeeper bustles over to take your orders and introduce his establishment.

"Ah, Master Glarold," Miron says in his smoothest voice after the man introduced himself, "it is a pleasure to be in the Perky Pick.  I have been in many inns during my travels and I must say that this is lovely.  It's always a good sign when the inn is packed with patrons relaxing after a good day's work no doubt."

As Miron greets the innkeeper, Kazmak carefully choses a seat that he thinks will better allow him to fine-tune his ears into picking up the murmur of the conversation. What are people talking about?

Yared enters with his entourage (except the groom, who's left with the animals). And looks over the miners, it is obvious that darkness has fallen over their souls and that it is time for that darkness to be lifted.

OOC: considering doing a performance using my magical spells of the day to impress the miners but don't want to do it if the party is going to head into the mine before I can recover my spells. What say you? Go today or tomorrow?

OOC: do as you please, as Iowain at this time is in Cadsandria likely eating whole bran bread, raw onions, mutton jerky, and parsley in remonstrance to his stomach's hunger pains. Maybe he found a job by now, maybe he didn't. Either way his bowels will pay for their insubordination.
:mad:

Quote from: Drohem;723236"Ah, Master Glarold," Miron says in his smoothest voice after the man introduced himself, "it is a pleasure to be in the Perky Pick.  I have been in many inns during my travels and I must say that this is lovely.  It's always a good sign when the inn is packed with patrons relaxing after a good day's work no doubt."

"Yes, thank you," mutters Glarold. "What can i get you? A meal, some ale, a room?"

Quote from: The Butcher;723271As Miron greets the innkeeper, Kazmak carefully choses a seat that he thinks will better allow him to fine-tune his ears into picking up the murmur of the conversation. What are people talking about?

Like most public gatherings, the vast majority of talk is about mundane matters, but there is an undercurrent of tension in the room, as of unspoken fear. The lack of work in the mine seems to weigh heavily on more than one mind.

Your group gets more than one lingering glance - taking in your appearance, your gear, and your disposition.

Quote from: Opaopajr;723903OOC: do as you please, as Iowain at this time is in Cadsandria likely eating whole bran bread, raw onions, mutton jerky, and parsley in remonstrance to his stomach's hunger pains. Maybe he found a job by now, maybe he didn't. Either way his bowels will pay for their insubordination.
:mad:

After some investigation, it appears as though a mission for injured or out of work miners is looking for someone to help out around the place. Mending old shirts, a bit of cleaning, laundry, that sort of thing.

You'll get fed once a day and also get a bed in lieu of payment, should you need it.

Yared decides to put on a show for the miners and the rest of the bar after the rest of the party has had time to gather some information. Ahead of time he asks permission from the barkeep to put on a small performance in the middle of the bar for the benefit of his patrons, he'll pay a tip in order to do this if necessary.

If he gets permission Yared will cast Resist Fire on himself and Light on one of his GPs ahead of time. He will also douse himself (as discreetly as possible) in oil and dump some water on the floor where he's standing and make sure that he's standing well clear of anything flammable. He doesn't want to light anything on fire.

He plans to begin to preach, with his servants standing behind him to echo his words and chant, to preach of the glory of the King in Splendor and how although the mines are beset by darkness, they will be illuminated with light as bright as the sun.

As soon as attention in his preaching begins to wane, Yared is assuming that the local patrons won't have much patience for it, he'll set himself on fire using his flint and steel in the most theatrical manner possible. As the fires burn bright, Yared will shout out: "the fire consumes the darkness, but those who walk in light are not consumed!"

At that point, Yared will launch into the main body of his preaching concerning the weakness of the undead and all other things of darkness and the need for bravery even in dark times and places, for fire can burn away all evil so that only the good remains. His general demeanor will be more upbeat, jovial and good-natured.

If he is heckled at all at this point, Yared will cast Command on the heckler and tell them to "leave" and then immediately tell them to "begone from this place!" if he notices the magic beginning to take hold. If it doesn't work, he'll try to pretend that it was just a string of religious jargon, not an actual spell, and will hope that his servants will provide nice noisy background chanting and echoing at this point.

During the speech he will shout out loudly for any injured miners to come forward and shout loudly while casting Cure Light Wounds on two of them, if he has any volunteers. At this point he hopes to have the audience engaged and will ham it up in the best possible faith healer manner. If no-one volunteers, he will attempt to cast Cure Light Wounds on them anyway, while shouting loudly about how all things are possible in the Light of the King.

At the close of his speech, he will toss the GP that he had cast light on into the audience and beseech them to "walk in the light for all of their days." He will then invite any of the audience that is willing to join him in the great sacrament of the King in Splendor, small shots of honey topped with a thin layer of firewater. He will then light the shots on fire and tell any who seem receptive to down them so that they may taste both the sweetness of the King's love and the glorious fire of his wrath.

Then Yared will get something to eat. Preaching is hungry work.

[If you mention your fiery preaching might result in self-immolation Glarold repectfully informs you that you are free to do so outside.]

Quote from: One Horse Town;723972After some investigation, it appears as though a mission for injured or out of work miners is looking for someone to help out around the place. Mending old shirts, a bit of cleaning, laundry, that sort of thing.

You'll get fed once a day and also get a bed in lieu of payment, should you need it.

I'm not with them. I'm back in Cadsandria, where we have not heard mention of miners.

Quote from: One Horse Town;723970"Yes, thank you," mutters Glarold. "What can i get you? A meal, some ale, a room?"

Miron has a rather disappointed look on his face as he says, "well, first we must secure a job before can pay for the wonderful luxuries that you just offered.  We've come to Craghold to help with the problem in the mines.  Do you know with whom we would speak to about this matter?"

OOC: Yared will do his fire show and preaching outside near the bar right after closing time (or whenever he thinks he can get the best crowd for his preaching). In Yared's experience holy alcohol (how can anything that burns not be holy?) helps open the eyes of the blind to the truth by silencing the doubts that slither in the dark corners of their minds.

Game dead then I assume? :(

If anyone wants to continue to do play by post with me (for whatever that's worth...), I have one spot open in the En Garde! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/En_Garde!) game I've been running since November.

It's one of the first RPGs and put out by the Traveller guys two years before that game. The main difference between it and other RPGs is that each turn is a month rather than a combat round and there's no party. I think it works well for play by post...

PM me if interested.

Quote from: Daztur;726652Game dead then I assume? :(

I hope not.  I hope that OHT is just on an extended bender. ;)