Game Thread Prelude: Sandstorms and Sexy Ladies - Page 5

snack · #61 08-07-2010, 08:18 AM

"There dwells a beast at the bottom of the well. Of what manner I do not know, whether it is trapped there I also cannot say, but it is surely magic and of some strength."
He looks at Raiiel and says with a rueful smile,
"I'm starting to like your gallon of burning oil idea."
Then to the rest of his companions, he says,
"No doubt this creature is connected to the disappearance of all the water around here, but in what way I have no idea, how we should deal with it I also don't know. Any ideas?"

ChordataXVII · #62 08-07-2010, 12:37 PM

Raiiel shook her head in a contemplative manner for a moment, Well, I'm absolutely serious about just setting it on fire, it's much less dangerous then a direct confrontation...but it's not going anywhere, and I wouldn't want to act in haste. Why don't we talk to the bar patrons, and the bartender, and see if we can get some information first? If some of them know what it is we might find another use for it. Raiiel's fingers ran along the head of her dog, looking at the rest of the group, almost certain that the rest of the suggestions(sp?) would involve "Let's hit it with an axe." and "Give me your monies?"

JHouck8390 · #63 08-07-2010, 12:58 PM

I will head to the Mayor. I'll rejoin you all in the tavern before night's fall.

To the Mayor... and the market district... then back to the tavern.

Swald bows deeply before the elf and useful dwarf. Without waiting for a response, he disappears into the market district.

Search Check

Dice Roll:

1d20+5

(8)+5

Total = 13

Magnai · #64 08-07-2010, 02:22 PM

Quiivern silently observes it all. Those magics are quite useful. We could have figured out what was down there with a simple torch though. Unnecessary time spent in the study area, if I say so myself.

Quiivern inspects the stones of the well and the surrounding ground for marks from animals or other beasts. He also inspects the stones and pulley mechanism to see if they have been changed in the recent past. He also would be interested to see if there are any scrapes or markings deeper than just wear and tear.
Search roll

Dice Roll:

1d20

19

Spot roll

Dice Roll:

1d20+3

(1)+3

Total = 4

(OOC: Which is more appropriate? I have an inkling for search.)

At the suggestion to go talk to the barkeep, Quiivern pipes up and decries with an inkling of a tune on his voice, Off to the bar we go. Merrily merrily merrily merrily. Off to the bar we go. Quiivern likes the people that he finds at bars, the little that he goes to them. They mix well with his personality and are generally more talkative than the surrounding people. He has gotten a good quest or two from them that yielded a good number of orc heads.

When the rogue sneaks away, Quiivern smiles a little too hearily and waves, Bye diplomat person. Don't get us into trouble. I hope he doesn't force us to do anything that we don't want to. Slimy people, those diplomats.

Magnai · #65 08-07-2010, 02:58 PM

Quiivern approaches the little children and with the scariest face and voice he can muster, Methinks there's a big beast down there. You better stay away for now. Suddenly looking friendly and triumphant, he continues but my friends and I might make it go away for you.

+2 Chaotic

Frodiddly · #66 08-07-2010, 04:53 PM

Azog watches the Human depart. Curious things, they are, Hugh-mans. Always acting like crazy people.

To the others, he offers his ideas on the strategy. "Your burning oil idea sounds expensive, and there is something else... When the water flows once more, the fire of the oil will not extinguish. This plan is poor.

"But your other plan, going to the tavern, is a good one. You can acquire more information there. I am not suitable for this. But soon, we shall have to go into the well, I believe, and fight the beast like warriors. Not in the cowards' way, Krisshik."

ChordataXVII · #67 08-07-2010, 08:34 PM

Raiiel blinked hard , choosing her words carfully before she responded The oil won't burn indefinately, that's why lamps don't...eh, never mind... Her thoughts dismissed quickly from her head she motioned for Sigil to come and headed down the street to the tavern. As she entered she looked about at the swarm of patrons and the small halfling bartender. Halflings weren't so bad, usually friendly those ones were. With a smile she set herself down on the barstool, doing her best to keep from making eye contact with anyone but the bartender. Waiting for a spare moment when he wasn't busy she held up a hand to signal him Two empty pitchers please, and two empty bowls , and whatever's good to eat here as well. she could get to know him and get information after she was a customer.

Magnai · #68 08-07-2010, 10:29 PM

Quiivern follows the elf to the tavern but waits outside and lets the elf have his time. While waiting, Quiivern surveys the crowd of the people passing by to see what type of area we are in. He'd be particularly interested in dwarves and/or people with axes. He also smiles and spins his axe, trying to look mildly buzzed for the random onlooker.
Search Check

Dice Roll:

1d20

7

Bluff check

Dice Roll:

1d20+1

(10)+1

Total = 11

After a good twenty minutes, Quiivern slowly strolls into the bar, now attempting to look absolutely sober, which he is. He looks at the crowd and spies for the smallest group (hopefully an individual) that looks relatively muscular and hard working. He would prefer someone at the bar.
Search check

Dice Roll:

1d20

2

Once he has found the person, he walks up to the bar and waits patiently to make eye contact with the barkeep. Two flagons of your strongest ale, kind sir.

Chekken · #69 08-07-2010, 10:36 PM

On the way to the Mayor Swald walks to the mayor's office, searching the streets for illegal magical items being sold. He sees many merchants who look suspicious, one of which selling nothing but golf balls. You realize that the stall is legitimate only when a passing customers, a barbarian, sticks one in his mouth and attempts to eat it. You hear the crunch of a tooth chipping: the barbarian realized a little too slowly that the golf ball he was chewing on wasn't a piece of candy. Despite the number of strange goods being sold on the streets, Swald sees nothing that would indicate the presence of magical items.

The Chieftain's Cabin

You reach the chieftain's cabin, which sits on a sunken part of the town with a few wooden steps leading to it. Huge walls surround the cabin, with vines extending upwards. There are small bushes here and there. You were expecting a log cabin, but nothing like this. The hut extends several feet out, it's wooden log architecture much different than the rest of the brick buildings near the street behind you. The roof looks like it is made of a light material; perhaps dried leaves with mud painted on to them.

Swald approaches the chieftain's tavern, expecting a door to knock on but instead seeing a guard blocking nothing more than the large hide of what appears to be a wolf, or perhaps a coyote.

He looks up at Swald. "What do you want?"

At the Well Quiivern's frightening face scares the children before he can even finish the second part of his sentence. They run off and hide behind their mother, who crosses her arms and taps her foot. She angrily beckons Quiivern with one finger. "Hey, you! Yeah, I'm talking to you! What's the big idea scaring my kids like that? It's bad enough that they think there's something down the well, but to scare them like you did? That wasn't very nice at all!"

At the tavern

Raiiel travels to the tavern. It is a fairly large building that is perhaps slightly better built than the others, but still a rather sickly shade of tan. A sign bears down on you from above--"The Stag and Crown Tavern". As you open the door, a cool blast of air hits you in the face and the heat stops bearing down on you, if only for a few moments. You and your friends look around the main taproom.

The Stag and Crown Tavern

It is fairly quiet at this time of day, with a couple of patrons coming in for their midday meal. There are six tables around the tavern.

No one is sitting at the table adjacent to the door, near a window.

In the table at the far left wall sits a group of four people. There was a fat human traveller wearing plain clothing and a floppy hat, a blind dwarven adventurer wearing bejewelled robes (also wearing a floppy hat) and a very tall halfling scribe wearing foodstained clothing. You guess that perhaps they're part of some sort of hunting club. They're eating loudly.

Sitting at the tap is a half-orc warrior patting a human on the back and comforting him. The human is very drunk.

On your right, sitting at the table near the window are...
-A dirty human hunter wearing fur-trimmed robes. He has ginger hair and a cheerful face.
-A very old human adventurer wearing drab robes. He has ginger hair and a deeply shadowed face.
-An elderly dwarven scribe wearing ill-fitting clothing. He has black hair and a stubbly face.
A puny halfling magic user wearing dark green clothing. He has black hair and a freckled face.
-A very tall human bandit wearing dirty adventurers garb. He has absolutely no hair and a sneering face.
-A young human trader wearing foodstained clothing. He has ginger hair and an unmemorable face.
They are speaking under their breaths. The bandit turns to the trader and whispers something, and both of them laugh loudly.

On the table directly to your right are a human potter and an aged dwarven watchman wearing heavy and ale-stained clothing. They are both very drunk.

There is an old halfling bar-tending at the tap. He has tiny spectacles and gray hair. He looks at you the entire time as he passes a mug full of cold, bubbling ale to the halfling beggar, who grabs it hungrily from his hand. He looks up at Raiiel's words and smiles, speaking in a thick halfling accent. "Well 'ello there! Alrigh', two pitchers and two empty bowls fer ye. An' two of the finest flagon of Aldwish ale! It's a family recipe, so ye bett'r like it!" The bartender chuckles, and then reaches down under the bar and pulls out two empty glass pitchers, two flagons and two clay bowls. He begins filling up the flagons with a dark brown ale that smelled strongly of cinnamon. "As fer wha's good to eat...migh' I recommen' th' beef soup? S'good stuff. It's stewed from wolf hear', local 'erbs and Lassayan cattl'. Very distinct flavour, an' real tasty too! It's 3 copp'r, bu' it's worth i'!" After hearing her response, he looks left and right and then leans over the counter. "So, erm... are ye one of th' rebels goin' agains' the slavin' law? Ye aren' dressed like a slave. No offense r' anythin'. Just askin'. I don' suppor' th' law meself." The bartender passes Quiivern his ales. "Tha'll be one silv'r fer the ales, please."

Magnai · #70 08-07-2010, 10:43 PM

At the well:
Quiivern shrugs at that response. Silly scaredy cat humans.

At the bar:
If Quiivern gets his ale with no event, he smiles to the barkeep and walks slowly over to the dwarf and the potter that were originally on our right and asks, Mind if I join you for a drink? I've brought ale. He raises the two flagons up in gesture of friendship and sharing.

Chekken · #71 08-07-2010, 10:55 PM

The men rise from their seats and both raise their beersteins in joyful triumph. "HAIL! ALE!" they say in unison, as if it were some kind of team cheer or inside joke. The two of them burst into boisterous laughter. The dwarven man, who had long black hair and an even longer beard offers Quiivern a seat. "Sit down, my friend! Take a load off. What's the *hic* good news, lately?"

ChordataXVII · #72 08-07-2010, 11:10 PM

Raiiel holds her hands over the pitchers for a moment, a faint flash of green in her eyes pulsing out before clold water started to pour from her hands, filling the pitchers with a gallon of water apiece. Quietly she set one bown on the floor and filled it with water, which Sigil started lapping at enthusiastically, then filling her own bowl with water and setting the pitcher down before pushing the other one towards the bartender. I have more than enough for myself please take this pitcher. I'm actually surprised that you would suggest soup in the middle of a drought, but I'll have one of those, and if you have a random hunk of raw meat lying around I'll take that too. Raiiel's ears twitched a bit as she leaned in closer to whisper Any follower of Obad-Hai is a rebel against slavery, if you know where I can find a forger, and perhaps an emmisary of the rebels in this town I'd appreciate if you'd share that knowledge.

snack · #73 08-07-2010, 11:28 PM

Having stayed briefly at the well to see if he could not find more information, Gregor now follows the elf and dwarf to the tavern.
Walking through the door, he takes in the scene around him.
I surely don't like the looks of some o' these fellas, best be looking after the elf, don't want no slaving troubles.
Noticing Raiiel at the bar he finds the stool next to her and addresses the halfling,
"Just water, if you have it sir."

Chekken · #74 08-07-2010, 11:41 PM

The bartender smiles at the pitcher of water. He shakes his head, and then sees the pleading look on Raiiel's face. "Yer...yer serious, are ye? WOW! A whole pitch'r o' wat'r? WOW! Tha' goes fer well ov'r ten gold roun' these parts!!! I'd be more than happy te help ye!" The bartender extends a cracked and ale-stained hand: a sign of a hardworking and determined individual. "Edea Aldwish, second gen'ration. I'm th' propriet'r of this fine establishmen'. Me grandfath'r buil' the tav'rn with his two bare hands."

New NPC Attitude: Friendly! 50XP for Raiiel.

Edea frowns at Raiiel's comment about the soup, rubbing his tiny chin in thought. "Hmmm...yer righ'. Mebbe I ough' te star' chargin' more for th' stew, seein' as how there's a drough' and whatnot. Bu' I'm an hones' man, miss, an' I don' really care bou' money so much. I'm really quite wealthy alrea'y...price gougin' wouldn' be my thing. Nope! If yer a friend o' Edea, he shares his wat'r, food an' board with ye!" He smiles widely behind his silver spectacles. Gregor enters, asking for water, and Edea gladly pours him one. "Now, I wish I coul' charge ye less, bu' wat'r is hard te come by these days. Do ye have a silv'r on ye?"

The aging halfling speaks now in a carrying whisper. "I don' know much bou' the rebels...I'm far too busy te pay attention te stuff like tha'. Try talkin' to tha' bandit fella ov'r there." Edea points to a man sitting near the window, who's wearing a cloth around his head, neck and face. "He knows all abou' the darkes' parts o' this city. Bu' if ye have questions 'bout anythin' else, I'm yer man!"

Magnai · #75 08-07-2010, 11:42 PM

Quiivern smiles and sits where the dwarf indicated. Finally the company of a true dwarf. Hail ale, indeed.

Quiivern sets the drinks down and starts sipping one. Based on the angle of the container, it looks like the dwarf would be chugging the liquid, but the drink seems to be only seeping into his mouth slowly. Quiivern noticably puts down the flagon on the table, letting the ale wash from side to side, overflowing just slightly.

Just hunting some orcs and was hit by a nasty sandstorm. Nothing but a good drink for sore muscles. I'm Quiivern, what are your names?