[Game Thread] Dagongaard

[Solomon777]

You pass the thick walls of what once was the ruined keep of Dagongaard. The rock-work around you is fresh masonry, not yet darkened with age. You know this very keep to be ruins not more than a season past. You have trekked many days distance to get to this secluded border of Solamnia, along the Southern Darkwoods. It is here that the call had gone out for adventurers from Lord Drell, Solamnic Knight of the Rose. In a time of severe persecution, the Knight beseeched the assistance of the surrounding lands, while his own liege struggled to maintain order throughout the lands of Solamnia.

Inside the keep you see much had been done, while rumors milled about concerning the ruination of the keep, the sight before you is nothing close to those tales. The walls had all been rebuilt, and now the central hall is nearly all that remains to be completed. Stone masons trumped about, lugging precut stones to finish the central hall in time for proper defense and visit from official parties, as well as positioning uncut stone to form the walls of smaller side hovels and plot property lines.

Just inside the keep’s first portcullis an escort of no less than ten well-armed men-at-arms challenge all newcomers with , “Hold, in the name of Lord Drell of Castle-keep, state your names and business within these walls?” A burly human with a short brown beard stepped before all of the facing guards. Archers watch down from their firing slits in the wall above, and at the head of the portcullis, on a temporary mount is a ballista aimed down into the entryway.

[GLM]

The Bakali with the large pet orangutan stopped in his tracks at the sound of those words. Maybe this was a mistake... He knew it would be hard to find acceptance here, but he wasn't looking for that. Not yet. All he wanted was some work. Good paying work that let him refine the raw talent he had only recently unlocked. He throws a quick nod at the orangutan, who stops right next to the tall lizard's right foot, and puts a hand up, resting it on the Bakali's lower back.

The Bakali tries to speak, but finds it difficult. So much pressure...what to say? he clears his throat which lets out a menacing growl. "Mhhhhrmmmmm...." and then he continues, in perfect common, free from any raspy lizard-like accent, "I am S'slagh, and I am here with my friend Red at your master... Lord Drell's, urging. It seems he needs adventurers. I guess I fancy myself one of...them." The way he speaks is jarring. Incongruous. Almost as if he were a human of some refinement, and not a scar covered lizard in a cloak. "I expect that you know of this situation? If so, please, do lead on." he adds a flourish pointing inward, toward the center of the keep. "And do not worry, Red does not bite." he continues, giving the creature a pat on the head.

[Anon315]

Kenneth, dressed in what some might call the 'Captain Jack Sparrow' look, with dreadlocks falling with beads and baubles, and clothing reminiscent of those of a piratical lean, enters the keep. He certainly doesn't look the part of a seasoned adventurer. If anything he's a bit scrawny, looks quite the con-man, mountebank, or any of a number names for 'untrustworthy individual.' "Lord Orlais. I'm here for the gold. I understand there are some details to work out before it's handed over." He grins, and anyone looking would swear to their respective gods that his teeth are pointed. "At ease, gentlemen; smoke if you've a mind to. Lord Drell is awaiting me, and I should hate to think this is what passes for his hospitality."

He walks with a cane, a finely crafted number which conceals a rapier-thin blade of alchemic silver bonded steel. No armor of particular worry adorned the man, nor did his clothing have any meaningful value in combat or especially good aesthetic qualities. He simply wore clothing and a hairstyle that suited him and the games he played with other beings. "So where might I find Lord Drell? Through there?"

[Chasme]

The sky was clear of any clouds, yet the ground still wet from the latest rainfall. The air full of pleasant scents that would be detected by Lafayette's nostrils. He could smell everything, from the fear of one of the guardsmen on the wall, to the soft and seducing smell of wet pines. One smell was heavier then most though, one that would remain for years to come. As it always was with the ruins of war, the heavy odor of spilled blood.

Stepping through the heavy reinforced gate he was glad he had put his I always have Undetectable alignment up. (Domain spell) protective wards around him. Eyes were upon him and his new company of ragtag adventures. They had all come from afar, he could smell it on all of them. Something he would take note of not to do in more confined places, as the smell of long-since dead meat was heavy upon at least one of them.

The word and treatment of the guards was kind of heavy and it set him back a step. He didn't take kindly on threats or challenges so by nature he started to show a bit of gum. Regardless he could see that the situation was dire and would let it slip for now. Trying to speak up as loudly as he could, his young and pleasant voice would take over that of the sounds of rebuilding.

Dice Diplomacy:

1d20+10

(18)+10

Total = 28

Please lower your weapons, I have come to the call of aid. Looking around him he noticed none of them only showing the slightest sign of lowering down their weapon so he continued to state his business. "My name is Lafayette Borgaux. I have heard of these lands and the threat it poses to you even now. I am here to go on contract to see that these lands would be save ones more. "

[Pryde]

Everyone seems so serious and dour, Tsen thought to himself as he watched the lizard and the kid interacting with the guardsmen. I wonder what brought them here?

"Tsen Xin, former student of Moril the Red, protege of Khaelin the Black, here on direct request of Lord Drell Castle-Keep," the Blue says in his best Sounding Official voice, presenting the letter of introduction Khaelin had given him to grant him access to the Red Robe Moril all those years ago--printed side facing Tsen.

Stunned by the sheer audacity of a naked, furry goblin presenting himself so, Brown Beard couldn't decide if he should laugh, bodily throw the little blue thing back out on the road, or just run him through and be done with it. Mistaking the guardsman's hesitation for the respect he was naturally due, Tsen started past the guard.

[GLM]

Acceptance might be hard to gain from the guards and those in the keep, but perhaps acceptance wouldn't be too hard to gain amongst this group of adventurers. A foppishly dressed cad, a wildly tattooed young man (not much more than a boy, really), and a goblin so far. He had yet to see anyone who had anything that resembled a weapon, unless you counted that short stick carried by the goblin. Didn't adventurers carry swords? This was going to be interesting, and would perhaps challenge his notions about adventuring. Maybe he would learn something. Or the whole venture could fail miserably as the assembled team was deluded into thinking they could take on such a challenge with just their brains and hands. Maybe he would die. "I wonder what they do?" S'slagh thought to himself. He turned toward the others with a slight bow. The orangutan followed suit, offering up a short, shallow bow that perfectly mimicked the tall lizard's. "S'slagh and Red. Pleased to meet you all."

[Chasme]

Seeing that the guardsmen had not the common decency to lower down their weapons, Lafayette was glad at least one of the travelers had shown sign of kindness, lest he would most likely have had to murder them in their sleep. At least this thing, this person or Lizardman had shown Proper etiquette's in dealing with strangers. Not that he himself was one of the most social beings, preferring his more primal side far above that of his exterior "Human" heritage. However, this situation called for a certain finesse that he had long ago learned in the city of Portsmith, one of the more well known harbor cities.

Trading a glance with the Lizardmen and bowing politely, he responds. "Call me Lafayette, Pleasure to meet you S'slagh." while doing so he strokes the orangutan over his head. "And you too Red. Say, where are you from Slagh? You don't mind me calling you that, do you? That "S" is a killer for the common tongue." He finishes his sentence with a polite wink. Just to let him know that he's not trying to get on the creatures bad-side. After all, they would most likely be spending a lot of time together in the upcoming weeks. Making enemies within their own ranks would hardly make the task up ahead any easier, and knowing this creatures bloodline he was glad that he'd have someone with him with a primal instinct. It would make surviving underground that much easier.

[Pryde]

"Tsen Xin," the blue goblin returned, dipping into a fair approximation of S'slagh's bow. Then, almost as an afterthought, "...of Kendermore."

[Solomon777]

The bearded human looks about in startled amazement as the variety of the races before him. As if shaking from a daze he ushers past the beings who have attested to their origin and focus while here in this border keep.

“Fine answer indeed, I am Bjorn Farnhand, the Corporal of the Watch. I offer a reason for the caution these guards show to the wandering travelers in these areas. Lord Drell has indeed petitioned for those willing to tame some of the wilds around here. Our army is small, but we run the risk of spreading ourselves thin should this keep be attacked.” As he passes everyone and takes note of their persons, looking for the less than savory types, he stops and looks hard at the goblin.

“You might be of particular interest to the Lord, there’s a band of goblins about the hills, though they have yet to pose a direct threat.” Bjorn comments to the blue goblin, Tsen.

He inhales, “Afore we start about now, the rules o’bein’ here in Dagongaard. The gate is closed after dark, and ain’t opened for anyone. Cursing in public is a silver coin fine. Spittin’ in public is a silver coin fine. Loitering is a silver coin fine. Public drunkenness will cost yeh’ two silver. Public indecency will cost yeh’ two silver as well. Brawlin’ among anyone is a five silver fine. Use o’weaponry is a gold coin. Use of magic to harm another is ten gold coins. All folks here must be registered as a citizen or employed by the keep to stay within the walls of Dagongaard for more than three days. Whew, do you’all understand the rules I ‘ave stated?”

[Chasme]

Even though Lafayette was in conversation with the powerfully build S'slagh, Lafayette turned to the Corporal in respect as he started his preach. Lafayette could only nod in understanding at the corporals words. Whether it would be smart for him to sleep within the Keep walls was another question, but that was a personal matter. He seemed like a honest hard working man, and these parts were bound to be dangerous. Even for the likes of himself. It never hurt to be extra careful. So, as long as the gates would be open and a warm bed inside it's walls, who was he to refuse them? Especially if it was in the company of rule-abiding soldiers.

"Yee have my word, as long as I am within these walls. I will act by your rule, and yours alone. Perhaps, good man. Would you be able to enlighten us of the dangers that have been plaguing your doorsteps? All I've heard is rumors, and I'd rather hear it of one who has served in these lands then by the tell-tale of bed wetting messengers. " Lafayette knew how to win the respect of soldiers, and that was to listen to their words of warning. No one, other then the ones that actually went into the caves of these lands had more knowledge of the dangers these hills kept hidden, then the guards that patrolled through them day and night in name of their liege and in protection of their own.

[Anon315]

The strangely dressed human tries to speak first, but even still finds himself preempted. Such was the danger of being too deep in thought. "Not quite, what if we are attacked? Surely if we are only defending ourselves, there will be no fine?" He hesitated to think of a place where self-defense was against the law, or even fined, but strange places had strange customs. "Also, will we have room and board supplied, or are we expected to pay for it from our recompense for the severed limbs?" He spoke of the mayhem and murder with complete candor, almost seeming to enjoy the thought of massacring the inhuman hordes.

[Pryde]

"No drunks, no spitting, no cursing, no fighting. Wow, I bet the dwarves love you in these parts," Tsen said, more or less under his breath.

[GLM]

S'slagh quickly answers the question before listening the the rules of the keep. "Well, Lafayette, I'm from Solanthus. Grew up there." It's an odd answer. Solanthus is a large coastal city, filled with human and humanoid races. Not exactly known for a Bakali population. Though it does explain his fluent common.

After the rules are read, he nods in agreement. "Your rules make sense. I bring no weapons and know no magic. We will not be a bother or a nuisance to anyone in your fine keep." he says, putting a hand on the orangutan's shoulder as he says it. "You mentioned drunkenness, is there a...a tavern here?" His head cocks to one side, waiting for an answer.

[Solomon777]

Bjorn nods his head at Lafayette, “A band o’goblins be only one of the plagues we have here. We also got a few pesky bandits, gnolls, hobgoblins, kobolds, and a few folks and mi’own men speak of huge wolves. They all seem to ‘ave hold up in the Caves o’Chaos. We sent a squad out to have a look around and they all disappeared; no word of’em.“

In answer to the flashy-dressed human he grimaced, “That matters on your dealings with old’man Bravol. If’n you are bent toward joinin’ the guard, he may swing toward cuttin’ you a deal. He’s a bit greedy however.” He nods a single nod when S’slagh asks about the tavern, “Bravol’s also serves a soup a day and has a keg o’ale, but the real tavern is the Tipsy Mermaid in the courtyard, on the other wall opposite this gateway.”

He motions to the two younger soldiers ready to take the group through the keep toward Bravol’s until the Lord is ready for them.

[Chasme]

Lafayette was in shock at the thought of having to kill another wolf. He had often ran into Orcs that had trained the creatures into blood-crazed monsters, but those were hardly his own kind. They were Feral creatures, their minds turned into a mud puddles of aggression at their masters mistreatment. They hardly ever recognized their own kin in their insanity, but to see the noble and strong masters of a pack set loose on behalf of such filthy creatures. He could not stand for it, it felt like his skin was crawling as the thought took hold of him and it took a effort of will to control himself and not turn into his four-pawed shape. He could understand the fear these humans had for his kind, since he often saw it in his quarries eyes; But he couldn't be part of killing his own unless put into a situation where death, or making a stand was the only option. Regardless, he would try and seek a way to free the animals from their masters clutch, and he would make every one of the vile creatures pay for any harm they had put those noble animals through. As Lafayette gathers his thoughts he responds. "Thank you, Corporal. That is very useful information. I will look into it and if we run into any of your lost men, we shall return them to your care if that is within our power." It was a diplomatic responds. Getting onto the Corporals good side was of his best interest right now. Perhaps it would gain him some foothold within these walls. After all, who knew better what was going on, then a Corporal; the experience of a man-at-arms, the friendship between his fellow guardsmen and the close contact with the Master of the hold. He was possibly the best contact he could acquire.

With that, he gives a friendly bow to the man and walks towards the soldiers that would lead him into the keep. He hoped this Bravol would have a cozy, warm room for him in his establishments. Since these were the rainy seasons, and the luxury of men was much of a improvement compared to the muddy ground, damp, cold grass and stink of his own wet fur.