[Game Thread] Prologue: A Gathering of Potential Heroes

[stobco]

Starring (in no order of importance)
Itsaverb as Marion "Big Kahuna" Torsgaard, the unforgiving warrior
Zany as Charlie, the child sneak
Foxtrot as Logan Strongheart, the righteous hand of Iomedae

Yuul as Akya Fydar, the once secluded conjurer
ManannanMacLir as Runa Liadan, the mis-understood disciple of Hanspur
LeoByron as Zenalia Le'Andaree, the human loving healer of Erastil

and
stobco as The Dungeonmaster

Marion, Logan, Akya, Runa, Zenalia It was a usual spring day, your breath visible in the cool air for a few seconds, and a thin layer of frost coated the grass at your feet and beyond, which quickly turned to dew as the sun chased one of three moons. "The Lady" is a faint blue in colour and is full on the 28th of each month.The Lady away, tired from the Last Day: Celebrated at the end of every month. See the Information thread for more info!festivities she presided over the night before. The sky was clear for miles around with only scant traces of clouds in the distance. You could tell already it was going to be one of those spring days, where the mornings started cold and demanded you wear a hooded cloak, and maybe even some gloves to keep your fingers warm. As the sun climbs its way to the top of the sky, you'd find yourself shedding the cloak and gloves to keep you from sweating. That's pretty much how it happened. The journey to Hengistbury was an uneventful yet pleasant one. The road guided you through rolling hills and light forests, and the hand full of travellers you came across were good hearted; some just offered a friendly smile and a wave, others stopped and shared words of themselves, or the news of the region. The people seemed nice enough, good hard working people content with their lot in life. It became obvious to you during your conversations that living in Holdenshire County had something to do with it. Many of the travellers you shared words with spoke highly of Lord and Lady Pemberton, and it's obvious that many appreciate the efforts they provide to ensure their people are taken care of. Unfortunately, strange things seem to happening lately, things that have made the area unsafe for some. You asked questions, but most seemed uneasy to provide details. You got the feeling that superstition was behind their unwillingness to speak about "strange things". Although some did make mention of a troll at a bridge between Hengistbury and Thornbury, as well as a extremely vicious wolf that has been wandering out of the Fogmoor. And of course there's always the Dragon at Skull Mountain, but it's too far away to bother the people of Holdenshire. The talk of the Troll made you think of why you were travelling to Hengistbury in the first place. The call for "stout adventurers" by Lord Pemberton was perfect timing. It's what you were looking for, or was it? Regardless, you have your reasons to pursue it further, and you're about to step into the town of Hengistbury and meet Sheriff Brand Torek to see if it meets your... requirements. The village of Hengistbury is a pleasant one. The houses are simple, yet well built. After passing through a few streets it becomes evident that the people within live relatively well. None seem to have items of excessive value, but they are comfortable, which says a lot more than some of the places you've seen. You see what looks too be the local watering whole a few streets away, and as luck would have it sundown is still a couple of hours away. You might as well stop in for a meal or drink, maybe both. The Bleeding Heart Tavern and find it to be a relatively busy spot. It is supper time after all. Your entrance raises the heads as nearly all inside, each of you receiving unique looks from the patrons. The elves receive curious looks, with some closer to lust, especially from the men. Respect are in the eyes that follow Logan, which is something he has become accustomed to in this area. Marion receives the usual attention due to his shear size, and Runa get looks of surprise and in some cases, fear. Each one of you is greeted by a young looking woman, probably in her early twenties. She seems serious, but is polite to each of you, giving Marion a look of deeper interest, her eyes almost smiling at you. She introduces herself as Meredith Jones, hands you a menu and brings you to a table to yourself. As you look around the tavern, there are a couple of the patrons that stand out. The gentlemen playing the mandolin with the rest of the entertainers waves at each of you with his three fingered hand as you look his way. There's also an academic looking fellow sitting at a table in the corner by himself, busy writing something in a book. So busy in fact, he was the only person not to look at you when you entered the tavern. Another man sits with his back to a half opened window enjoying what looks to be a glass of wine. He looks like any of the other patrons enjoying a drink or meal, except for the three children that pop their heads into the open window every once in a while, grinning to themselves. You probably have enough time to have a good meal and talk to a patron or two before it's time to meet Sheriff Brand Torek.

Charlie It's been approximately six months since you first stepped into Hengistbury. It wasn't a coincidence that pies placed on windowsills to cool off disappeared, or that chickens vanished without signs of pesky foxes breaking in to the hen-house. You didn't have a choice really, winter was coming. There were those in Hengistbury that left some food out "by accident", and who were you to disappoint? You did have to survive. There were others in the town that thought of you a pest, and you made sure keep your distance from them. Thankfully, it had been a warm winter and you coped quite easily. You have managed to make friends with some of the locals, mainly the Mortimer Brothers, Gord, Beej, and Poke. Maybe not friends, more like acquaintances. They're troublemakers in their own way, but more as pranksters, and the town folk tend to put up with them more so than yourself. After all, they were born in Hengistbury and are "one of their own". You find yourself beneath a window of the Bleeding Heart, at the back of the building. This is one of your usual plans. You see who's in the tavern and then proceed to get what you need from their house. Fairly simple. But this time, something else draws you to the Bleeding Heart. The strangers that have come to town to meet Brand. Why else would they all be here at the same time? So here you are, taking a peek through the window when the Mortimer brothers show up at the window about thirty feet from yours. Each of them gives you a smile and puts a finger to their mouth to ask for your silence. Taking a quick look inside, you have no doubt they're going to do something again to Tamas Agrens. You're not sure what Tamas did to the brothers, if anything, to deserve the constant attention they give him. You look around for Ugg, the brothers best friends who happens to be a hill giant, but you don't see any signs of him. Chances are when Tamas gets mad and starts chasing them Ugg will show up to "calm things down". You turn your attention back to the window and stare at the newcomers. Nothing seems unusual about them, except that you overhear someone say the Half-Orc is the fabled "Witch of the River". You've heard anout her, but that's about it. You wonder what she's doing here. Could she be here to answer Lord Pemberton's call for help? You take a quick look at the brothers and quickly see what they have planned for Tamas. Gord has a bucket, with what you guess is filled with water, and all three of them are trying their best not to laugh out loud, looking at you with great big smiles on their faces and still sending you sign to be quiet. Things are going to get interesting very fast.

OODM   Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Charlie 9/9 16 14 12 Normal +0 +6 +1 1 Marion "Big Kahuna" Thorsgaard 13/13 18 12 16 Normal +4 +2 +0 1 Logan Strongheart --- --- --- --- Normal --- --- --- 1 Akya Fydar --- --- --- --- Normal --- --- --- 1 Zenalia Le'Andaree --- --- --- --- Normal --- --- --- 1 Runa Liadan --- --- --- --- Normal --- --- --- 1

[Zany]

It had been a rough night, not that there were many good ones but this one had been particularly hard.
Time passed but with each lonely hour, and every moist tear the pain was never nearly washed away. Sleep had taken her finally yet it seemed only in its infancy when the wagon had passed over the wooden bridge and woken her. The clumping of hooves, creaking of boards and falling of dirt was not the sweetest of songs with which to rejoin the living world.

’How does that work?’ she wondered, ’restless all night but deep in slumber when it’s time to rise?’

Father had been on her mind again, and in the dreams reality and fantasy mixed together in thought such that she couldn’t be clear which was which. Last night was different though, different because today was to be different, and she was worried.

Charlie knelt to cradle some of the crystal water and paused as she looked deep into the mirrored face. Her eyes were held by the reflection of the captured stare, joy and youth had become lost to a clouded haze, a change had taken place, her past spiflicated, her future uncertain and her present ever painful.

Her hands broke the haunted image, numbing, stabbing cold cut at her fingers like a scythe, painful but refreshing, it focused her mind. Lifting her hands the water slipped through her fingers and ran back into the main body to vanish as the parts became whole. Caught by the motion she considered the analogue to her own situation, ripped from her normal life, running, slipping, seeking the source, that she may once again return to how things were, how they should be.

All the water had slipped through her fingers before she noticed she’d drifted away with it, she snorted and dipped her hands once more, splashing the liquid revitalization onto her face and around her neck, gasping at the chilling sensations.
Another quick slosh and she stood water running from her fringe and forming a small droplet on the tip of her nose.

Returning to her cot she looked down at her equipment, her new equipment, she still had gold left but she had nothing more she needed. She had enough left to be able to rent a room even, but rooms had never suited her, the years she’d spent under the stars beside the flock, the crackling of the fire and the reassuring din of nature enveloping her, they had defined who she was. Besides a young girl with gold to rent a room attracted attention and that was something she certainly had no need of, as it was she’d had to spread her purchases over time and outlets, to dissuade suspicion.

Slipping on her harness and fastening the straps gave her strength, the saddler had done well, as had the smith, the harness was strong, but very supple, leather passing over her arms and fastening to her belt, as per her specifications, no part was visible when she wore her waistcoat. Hanging under each arm was a sheathe holding one of her new daggers, a clever catch she had designed herself, held each blade in place, by applying pressure to the holster with her elbows the catch released and the dagger fell hilt downwards. She had practised and practiced and with an almost imperceptible movement of her arms she could hold a dagger in each hand.
She had used one of her candles to lubricate the blades so that they slid smoothly and silently, she checked them again now, and felt the reassuring weights land in her hands. A third sheathe was placed between her shoulder blades where another of what she had come to call her little lambs hung, held in place by a thin leather thong, easily snapped in an emergency.
She was ambidextrous but favored her left side; this third blade was easily pulled by either hand.

Her fourth little lamb she wore on her left hip, strapped to her belt and clearly visible, none of which were by accident. On her left because it led people to believe she was right handed, visible, for two entirely different reasons.
The first was effect, people normally looked at her as just a child, and the visible blade opened room for doubt in their minds.
The second was more tactical, if she were caught any captor was likely to relax their guard if they thought she were disarmed, and so this fourth lamb was the pinch of sugar that opened the mouth of opportunity.

Sliding her waistcoat on over the harness and her cloak over that she bent down and rolled her bedroll, a luxury item, she had in fact thrown away her old blanket, the same blanket father had thrown into her pack just before he shoved her towards her future and turned to face his fate. It hadn’t been easy, it was never easy to let something go, she was not one to waste anything, but the blanket was tired, and to say that was being kind, her old blanket had almost regressed to its original state, a bunch of loose thread held together by grime.
Fastening the roll onto the outside of her pack she strapped her bow and the wrap of arrows on top. She’d not been familiar with the bow when she bought it but she had the gold and it seemed to her that a kill from a distance unseen was far better than one looking death in the face. She’d spent two weeks practicing and the bridge pile on the far bank had half a dozen broken heads lodged in it and she had lost so many arrows she’d had to go back and buy some more, which caused some eyebrows to be raised.
Slinging the pack over her back she stood and cleared away her trace before clambering up the grassy slope to stand beside the road at the start of the bridge.

Following the brown smudge as it meandered toward the mountain she could make out the cart that had woken her. Passing tantalizingly away toward the horizon, she could, she considered, just turn and follow it and pass away into the forests and the mountains, back to where she belonged. She could just walk away.

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the scrap of parchment she had plucked from the board where it had been nailed.
She could read, she could write too, that was down to father, not that he could do either of course but during the long winters when they had brought the flock down to the lowlands to bide out the storms he had insisted she learn. So with the help of old nanna Jenkins she had spent long hours hunched over pages following the squiggles, grouching at the task.

A memory pushed into her mind, sitting around the fire a couple of hare’s roasting, she pleaded with father not to be made to endure the book she’d been reading to him. He had quietly reached for his battered wooden crook and held it across his knees turning it thoughtfully.

”This is a tool for herding sheep, for plucking a ewe from the flock. This,” he tapped the open book on her lap with his finger, ”this is another tool, but with this you can herd people and pluck the life you deserve from the world”

She had a life and she had no desire for any other, so she’d little idea what he meant but it was obvious it was important to him and so she’d returned to her reading and he had smiled.

Scanning the notice in her hand she picked out keywords; ‘retain’, ‘adventurers’, ‘surrounding countryside’, ‘sherrif Torek’s office’, ‘sundown’, ‘treasure’.
It was everything she had hoped for in a single crinkled and elegantly typed advertisement, it was the way back to father or to eliminate the other. But she was thirteen, people wanted to nurture her, they ‘cooed’ and ‘ahhh’d’ they tried to protect her, they most assuredly didn’t hire her to police the dangerous wilds.

”Every fault is an asset, if used in the correct manner.” Her father had said, and today she would test his hypothesis, today she would have to get others to ignore her faults and view her only as an asset.

She looked up again at the disappearing wagon and sighed, her life shouldn't be this complicated, she shouldn't have these choices to make, she looked left then right, left or right? It just wasn't fair. She wanted her sheep, her hills, she wanted her life back. She wanted her father. It just wasn't fair!

”Why?” She muttered. ”Why me?”

She folded to the ground as her legs gave way, sitting cross legged her face buried in her palms the tears flooded down her face. She wrapped her arms around her legs and drew them close burying her face in her knees rocking back and forth.

’Why - did he leave me - why did - I leave him – why - why any of this - why me?’ her thoughts were broken and she gasped air and sniffled back her misery.

And so she sat, at the edge of the dusty road, a small and very young defenseless girl, breaking apart, fracturing from the inside, she sat and rocked.

*****

Sometime later she entered the town approaching from the west across the fields and using the hedge rows for cover, she always varied her route but this was her favorite. The streets on this side of town contained mostly dwellings and there were few people, it had a peace to it.

Slipping south and passing the old well she could hear the beating of hammers from the smithy ahead, the smell of coke and sweat wafted on the breeze.
Father had taught her stealth, he had shown her how to track and hunt her food, how to lay in wait for hours for the wolves that harried the flock. She knew how to move with a smooth grace which didn’t attract the eye, blend with the trees and rocks. He'd taught her well but none of that was needed here in town, her best camouflage was her youth, nobody noticed a child, nobody paid her any mind as she walked, meandering toward her purpose.

At the corner where the road widened she stopped at the bakery and bought a couple of freshly baked rolls for breakfast, there was a queue but she was in no hurry.
Juggling the hot rolls between her hands she made her way over to the small patch of grassland to the side of the bakery and took a seat under the tree. The shade was welcome and she could enjoy her breakfast knowing her ambition and objective lay within her line of sight.

Just across the road was Sheriff Torek’s office, the one mentioned in the advert she had in her pocket.
She had time, she could see what kind of people responded to the advert and she could observe the sheriff himself.
She knew of him of course but he didn’t know her, if he did then she would probably be on the inside of the building across the street trying to figure out how to get out rather than sitting here enjoying hot bread wondering how she might get in.

She sat for several hours after finishing off her bread watching the building across the street, several people came and went some of whom she recognized as deputies and once or twice she noticed Torek himself at the door. The town had an air today that was certain, perhaps not one that a stranger might sense but it was there nonetheless. There were odd looking strangers wandering about too, armor and weapons contrasting sharply against the everyday soft cloths of the townsfolk. None entered the office across the street though and she suspected most would probably head over the the tavern seeking news and refreshment.
She stood an walked nonchalantly over the road and down the street running alongside the Sheriffs office, there two windows on this side and she paused under each to see if she could hear anything within. Moving more carefully she slid around the rear of the building, there was a small window high up the wall and it had half a dozen strong iron bars defying entry, or, she pondered, exit. A small pile of chopped wood lay against the wall below the window. She checked to make sure there was nobody about.
Very carefully she climbed onto the pile of wood and reached up to the bars to check the piece of string she had tied there several months ago, it was still firmly attached, she followed its line down the wall but didn't disturb it, the moss had grown since she placed the cord and it concealed it well. Reaching the other end of the twine she checked that her spare set of picks and tools were still in place. She didn't think the advert was anything more than it seemed but if it were a ploy by Sheriff Torak then she didn't intend to stay as his guest for any longer than necessary.

Looking over her work and making sure she hadn't left any indications of her presence she picked up her backpack and continued around the building. On the last side she noted the large tree growing, its branches reached out in all directions and some even brushed the adjacent wall, she had already made note of the shingle roof and chimney, hopefully it wouldn't come to it but should it arise the she needed to gain entry to the jail this looked a pretty good route to take.
Satisfied that she had done all she could here she glanced about the street to ensure nobody was looking in her direction before stepping out into the normal traffic and heading toward the Bleeding Heart Tavern.

She hadn't been at the tavern long, when the Mortimer brothers showed up with a bucket of water.

Up to their childish pranks again she thought to herself and nodded to the brothers her assent to keep quiet.

This could prove interesting, if Tamas gets as fiery as is his norm and Ugg shows up to protect the boys, well it might be a good opportunity to see how these newcomers handle the situation.

One look at them gathered at the bar was enough to tell her that the job of convincing any of them that she should be a part of their little group was probably going to be the hardest part of her plan. She would just have to wait, listen and watch for an opportunity, something would arise she was sure. Perhaps even Ugg might be the catalyst she needed, patience, that was the key with any hunt, patience and diligence.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Charlie 9/9 16 14 12 Normal +0 +6 +1 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Dagger Weapon +4(+4 ranged 10ft) 1d4+1 Composit Shortbow Weapon +4 70ft1d6 Languages   -- Common, Dwarven, Giant Weapon Finesse Feat - Use DEX modifier instead of STR modifier Stealthy Feat - +2 Escape artist/Stealth Checks Highlander Trait - +1 Stealth/ +2 Stealth Hilly Rocky Areas Sneak Attack Ability   1d6 Acrobatics Skill +8   Bluff Skill +4   Climb Skill 5   Disable Device Skill +8   Escape Artist Skill +10   Knowledge: Geography Skill +3   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +5   Sleight of Hand Skill +8   Stealth Skill +11   Survival Skill +2

[ItsaVerb]

The morning arrived with a brisk chill in the air, but by late afternoon the intensity of the sun's springtime rays hinted at the heat of the summer to come. It had been a gorgeous day, hardly a cloud in the sky. After days on foot, and having miscalculated by a fair margin the time it would take him to travel to Hengistbury, luck was kind to Marion Thorsgaard and he was able to catch a ride on a farmer's hay wagon for the last twenty miles or so of the trip. Until that point he'd worried he would miss the meeting with Sheriff Torek, and possibly miss out on the employment he offered. As it was, the big warrior exchanged stories with the old farmer, thoroughly enjoying the ride. When they arrived in town the sun hung low in the sky, but there was still a good hour or two until sundown--enough time to relax with an ale and feed his growling tummy.

Arriving in Hengistbury, Marion fetched a simple cloth shirt from his pack and slipped it on. It had been warm enough that he'd stripped down to a bare chest during the ride. He took account of his things before thanking the farmer and giving the aged fellow a couple of gold pieces for his trouble. He located the Sheriff's office easily, and was glad to spy a common house just down the lane. The Bleeding Heart Tavern, as good a place as any to whet his whistle and unwind a bit before visiting the Sheriff.

The tavern was busy, and the warrior-for-hire might not have attracted so much attention were it not for his unusual size and the huge hammer he carried. Aside from that, he was dressed like a local commoner; dark cloth pants cut for boots, a loose-fitting off-white cloth shirt with a v-neck and laces. The rest of his clothing and armor stowed away in his large backpack. His hair was dusty from the road, not quite shoulder length, several bits hung across his face. His mustache was, as always, immaculately groomed--the ends curled in perfect loops with wax. His dark brown eyes adjusting to the dimmer light of the tavern, Marion surveyed the room, and was quickly welcomed by Meredith Jones.

"It's my pleasure to meet you, ma'am," the big man said with a gentle bow and a wink before seating himself at the table. "Indeed I am parched, my good lady! Hmmmm... smells like bacon you say?!?" he exclaimed as he ran his finger down the list of beverages on the menu. "I mean to meet the Sheriff in a while to talk about some business, and I don't intend to disrespect the man by arriving half-drunk, but I think I can get away with enjoying one...

Two Lonely Dragon Beers, please!"

When the server returned with two tankards of beer, Marion took a hearty swig from one, and set the other aside next to him on the table. At that point he took a much closer look at the room. Making eye contact with the mandolin player and giving him a mini salute at his eyebrow with an index finger. He presumed there would be more folks than just he who were interested in the Sheriff's offer.

I wonder which of these people are here regarding the work. Hmmm... he thought, looking around the room for other copies of the advertisement he had, and noticing he was not the only person seated alone at a table. He figured those could be candidates. Maybe I'll make a game of it! I'll guess which ones I think will show up for the Sheriff's meeting and see how many I get right! Pondering it a moment longer he decided or maybe not...

Knowing how well his voice carries, the northlander spoke clearly enough to be heard above the din of conversations in the tavern, but not so loud as to frighten anyone, hopefully. "Am I the only first-time visitor to this fine establishment? Perchance is anyone else here planning to meet with the Sheriff this evening regarding his call for stout adventurers? If you are, please feel free to join me at my table and let me buy you a drink!"

Kahuna took another satisfying swig of beer and waited to see whom, if anyone, would take him up on his invitation.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Marion "Big Kahuna" Thorsgaard 13/13 18 12 16 Normal +4 +2 +0 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Lucerne Hammer Weapon +6 1d12+6 Languages   -- Common, Skald Enforcer Feat - On non-lethal damage, a free action may be used to intimidate target Bully Trait - +1 to Intimidate checks/Class skill Killer Trait - Add'l critical damage on crit hits Intimidate Skill +7   Sense Motive Skill +3   Survival Skill +4

[LeoByron]

Her eyes are closed. She feels his hands on her, gentle, yet pressing in their demands. Slowly they caress her shapely legs sending shivers across her perfect skin. His hands are cold, in stark contrast to her flushed and tingling flesh. She feels his nails as they softly scrape the inside of her thigh. She moans slightly, anticipating the next caress. His fingers walk teasingly across her aching skin, causing her to squirm slightly with anticipation. Both hands on her now, holding her. Feeling her. His lips now, caressing, teasing, kissing. Her Gabriel. Cold tongue presses against her thigh... Cold tongue? She opens her eyes. Not Gabriel! The fiend grins at her, fangs bared, his bloody smile mocking her as she begins to moan, this time in terror. She struggles to escape, but now she sees that other hands are holding her. Clamp-like they squeeze as she squirms, this time violently, to break free. The fiend with his tender hands pushes her back down, still smiling that lunatic smile. Yellow eyes gleaming in the dark, cat-like, the perfect predator. He grasps her with both hands and slowly lowers his lips to her tender flesh, tasting her sweat, tasting her fear. Gently, and oh-so-slowly, he sinks his fangs in her. She tries to scream, but her throat betrays her and refuses to make a sound. The fiend's eyes are locked on hers as he drinks and she is helpless to look away as she feels her life draining from her veins and into this dark creature of the night. This dead thing which somehow now is more alive than she could ever be from her stolen blood flowing through his dessicated veins... She is dying. But she does not scream. Not that, never. But she whimpers...

Zenalia wakes up thrashing in her bedroll, squirming to get away from the demon in her dreams, still whimpering. She stops suddenly and sits up, willing herself the rest of the way from the nightmare. It is cool but not cold, at least not after that long winter, as she scrambles from her makeshift shelter, pulling her bedroll out behind her. She stands and stretches the sleep from her limbs and lets the dawn sun caress her with its springtime rays. The ground is wet with frosty dew and she enjoys the cold sensation as she wiggles her toes in the soft crunchy grass.

She looks around and realizes she slept in as she notices that the caravan is almost ready to depart. She whispers a small prayer to Erastil and thanks him for the morning sun. She cups her hands, closing her eyes, and causes pure cool water to flow from them. She drinks her fill, and proceeds to douse herself with the cool water to wash away the last remnants of her dream. She then quickly breaks camp, rolling the blanket she used as a makeshift shelter, placing it carefully in her pack. A few moments later and her bedroll is tucked neatly beneath her pack and slung over her shoulder. She checks her bow, inspecting it carefully for damage and slings it over her shoulder to rest against her full quiver. She gives the feathers a quick once-over as well, making sure they are intact and ready to fly. The comforting morning habits of long travel have served her well over these last few months as she traveled with this caravan to Holdenshire.

This is to be her last day with them as they are set to arrive in Hengistbury by noon hour of this day. She grabs her cloak and gauntlets from a branch stub nearby and puts them on, the ritual complete. She is ready. Just in time too as the three wagons that make up this small caravan are just now heading underway, excited, as she is, for this last leg of their long journey. No one speaks to her, but a younger lad who she suspects has been nursing a crush on her, nods to her in greeting. He blushes when she gives him her weak smile. She tried to be friendly but it has been difficult. Walking these roads, roads she knows were among the last her Gabriel ever traveled, has filled her with a constant dull ache in her gut. She misses him so much, it is like a hole where her guts are supposed to be and she catches herself often clutching at herself, as though trying to hold them in. Her traveling companions leave her alone, but she sees their looks of pity and resents them for it.

In the beginning a few of the mercenaries who travel with them for protection tried to get close to her, perhaps to try and bed the beautiful forlorn elfmaid who traveled with them, but her cold stare as they tried to engage her in idle chat was an effective deterrent. That, and that bow of hers which she always kept slung over her shoulder. There were easier, warmer women to be had who were far more receptive to their manly charms. Eventually they left her alone with her thoughts. And now here they were at last: Hengistbury.

She paid the caravan master her share of the "protection" fee and made her farewells brief as they departed from her her to go their own way and unload their various wares at Samuel & Sons Trading Company. For herself, she veered north towards the Bleeding Heart Tavern from the main road, passing by the bakery and its tantalizing odors of baking bread and cooling pastries. She had a few hours until sundown and her planned rendez-vous with Sheriff Torek, and she figured the tavern was as good a place as any to pass the time and perhaps get an earful of the local goings-on.

She let herself enjoy the sunny day as she made her way there, her eyes missing nothing as she observed the town her Gabriel had so recently visited. She stopped just outside the doors to the tavern and closed her eyes, imagining herself walking in his footsteps, walking exactly where he had walked, and let herself feel as though he was right there with her. She opened her eyes and wiped the single tear which had escaped her, and walked inside.

When the young barmaid approaches her to greet her, they are suddenly interrupted by a large human proclaiming himself to be looking for work with Sheriff Torek and seeking like-minded souls to share his table. "Thank you, miss, but I'm with him." She points to the handsome man with the foam mustache and makes her way to him.

"My, don't you look like a stout one. Are you an adventurer, too?" she says, giving him her warmest smile. She realizes she has been lonely and is looking forward to meeting people who are of a same mind, who are not compelled by the every day tedium of toil or trade. People who, like her, seek adventure. People who, like her, need it. She offers him her hand.

"My name, is Zenalia. Did you know you have a foam mustache?" Her smile widens, this time for real. It feels good.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Zenalia Le'Andaree 8/8 15 13 12 Normal +2 +3 +5 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Composite Longbow [+1] Weapon +3 1d8+1 Spiked Gauntlet Weapon +1 1d4+1 Languages   -- Common, Elven, Draconic Point Blank Shot Feat - +1 atk & dmg with ranged weapons if target is within 30' Sacred Touch Trait - As a standard action, you may automatically stabilize a dying creature merely by touching it. Channel Energy Class Ability   1d6 Heal or dmg undead; 4/day Acrobatics Skill +3   Heal Skill +3   Knowledge (nature) Skill +5   Knowledge (religion) Skill +5   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +3   Stealth Skill +4   Survival Skill +2

[ManannanMacLir]

Originally Posted by ManannanMacLir

Hours later, at Midday, Runa approaches the town of Hengistbury, drawing a few surprised looks from the townsfolk. The reaction of the children is mixed; some run and hide, while others watch her as if she were a circus performer. Or more probably, a circus freak. She isn't seen in the village often, only seven times over the last two years to buy supplies, so her appearance is a bit unexpected. She puts on a friendly face though, smiling at the occasional child or at some of the folk who stare too long. Looking to the sky, Runa frowns at herself, "It's still a few hours 'til Sundown..." Passing the Sheriff's Office, Runa heads over to the Bleeding Heart Tavern to bide her time.

Originally Posted by stobco

...Runa get looks of surprise and in some cases, fear...

Arriving at the tavern, Runa takes a few moments to set Urgal the mule to feed in the stable before going inside. She is a sight to see, especially today with the impending meeting with the Sheriff. Dressed in full orcish armor, and ready to depart immediately, even if she doubts things will run so quickly. Leaving her animal friend with instructions to behave, she glances at a group of boys and a young girl outside before stepping into the tavern common room. As she is greeted by Meredith Jones, Runa takes the menu and offers a bright smile as she looks around to find a place to sit.

As she wonders, she hears the loud and booming voice coming from the big lout across the room, 'Thinking of the man as a lout is too harsh. He seems like a nice enough fellow. Hopefully he doesn't scare as easily as some commoners.' Even as she considers approaching, a beautiful woman approaches the table. Unusually beautiful, and with that purplish skin she can't be human. Not an orc, either. Unperturbed by the strangeness of the elven woman, Runa approaches the table just a minute behind Zenalia. Runa stands out next to her, with her armored body, bare legs and tattooed skin, but the half orc thinks of her own differences as a point of pride; not every mortal holds the right to call herself a shaman.

At the table, she gives the pair a smile, friendly but perhaps menacing considering her long, sharp canines. Along with the smile, she examines the pair with fiery and passionate eyes as she tries to figure out what kind of people they are, "You do seem a stout one, warrior. And you are exquisitely beautiful... You said your name was Zenalia? My name... is Runa Liadan. Is there still room at the table for another seeking a meeting with the Sheriff?" The woman is confident, but she seems slightly tense as she waits for a reaction from the pair. She hopes they accept her, but half expects fear as well. She hears the whispers from the patrons, calling her a witch, and she knows that Marion and Zenalia hear it just as well. What she doesn't know is how much stock they'd put in it... What do they think of 'The Witch of the River'?

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Runa Liadan 13/13 17 11 16 Normal +5 +2 +6 1 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Trident (Melee or Thrown) Weapon +3/+1 1d8+3 - Brace Dagger x2 (Melee or Thrown) Weapon +3/+1 1d4+3 Sling Weapon +1 1d4+3 Languages   -- Common, Orc Toughness Feat - +3 HP immediately, +1 HP per level starting at Level 4 Endurance Feat - +4 to some checks, Can sleep in Medium Armor Beacon of Faith Trait - Once per day as free action, +2 to CL for domain powers and spells Channel Energy Class Ability   1d6 Heal or dmg undead; 4/day Handle Animal Skill +2   Heal Skill +3   Knowledge: Religion Skill +4   Perception Skill +3   Sense Motive Skill +7   Survival Skill +3

[Yuul]

Akya's road to Hengistbury had been relatively simple and easy, physically anyway. The weather had been average for the time of year and present climate, and the road easy enough that she wasn't tripping over too many a stray stone. It was more difficult for Akya, however, in almost all other ways. For one her journey slowed or paused and frequent but random intervals as she stopped to examine something that had caught her notice and she hadn't seen before. Which was often enough, for everything was different the larger world outside her homeland. Even some of the insects! She had spent about a quarter hour observing a brightly colored beetle with iridescent wings as it crawled or fluttered about a tree hunting after even smaller bugs. Eventually she reminded herself she had places to get to.

Hengistbury, which found itself to be the next major stop on her travels. It would be good enough to resupply and perhaps ask a few more questions without accidentally and inadvertently insulting anyone. Though she put a quick mental halt to anymore wild sampling of beverages. Her head still hurt with phantom pangs whenever she thought about the last town she had stayed at. Fortunately the innkeeper there had been somewhat sympathetic, if a little amused, at her situation.

Which was better than some of the humans and other races she had met. Akya tried really hard not to feel bitter to anyone who had reacted cruel or mocking to her questions, or even just her presence, more often then not she put the blame on herself for violating some unknown cultural boundary or something. It didn't stop the weird sensation hurt whenever she received one of the worse rejections or insults. Someone more given to violence might have used the spells she had at her disposal to retaliate, but that sort of person was not who she was. So she took it and bore it without comment save an apology just in case she had in fact done something to offend.

Fortunately, where there were mean and unkind people, there were also good counterparts to them. Like the last innkeeper she had met. And the huntsman she travelled with now. He was lugging around an impressive brace of pelts he hoped to sell in Hengistbury, among other things, and their paths had crossed when he had come upon her observing that beetle a few hours ago. At first he had had that strange look in his eyes that often made Akya uncomfortable, and one that she had yet to figure out what it meant in the society whose lands she now traveled through, but it passed quickly enough. And so too did the relatively young elf's uncomfortableness. Finding out they had the same destination, at least for now, was quite the boost to Akya's spirits. While she enjoyed lone travel at times, she enjoyed company more. Especially if they were the non-elven sort who did not mind her constant questions.

And the man didn't, at least, he didn't mind the ones involving his profession. It had honestly only taken a few of them before he started launching into tales and stories of his own hunting exploits with very animate hand motion accompaniment that Akya could only understand some of. Still, she listened very attentively all the same. She felt the story of him against an entire pack of wolves was probably a little exaggerated, but it did make for fascinating listening. By the time they passed into Hengistbury, the young elf was surprised at how quickly the time had passed. In fact, she had almost not even noticed the sign. And this would have been an entirely different tale if she had not. It was asking for help in making the surrounding land safe again. Indeed, Akya had heard quite a few stories of late of the various troubles that were growing in the land at a rate that was supposedly unprecedented in recent history. By the human measuring of it at least.

So here her path split from her companion, with one wave exchanged between the two as the hunter moved to the market, hoping to figure out the current local pricing perhaps. Akya however was moving towards the Bleeding Heart Tavern, a peculiar name to be sure and a theme that seemed common to most of the inns and taverns she had been to of late. It was easy enough to find, and she didn't even have to ask for directions, though she might have liked to anyways. She attracted more than a few stares when she entered, many containing that odd look that so often made her uncomfortable. She did her best to ignore it and the slight embarrassed blush creeping onto her cheeks as she sought out a table, a search that suddenly became very easy.

"Am I the only first-time visitor to this fine establishment? Perchance is anyone else here planning to meet with the Sheriff this evening regarding his call for stout adventurers? If you are, please feel free to join me at my table and let me buy you a drink!"

Akya's blue-violet eyes widened and she turned slightly to an already partially full table as several chairs were quickly being claimed. If she felt at all out of place as she too sat down, her thinnish form alongside such musclebound men, as well as a similarly built half orc woman, it was eased a bit with the other elf already present at the table. Before she can say a word she is given a menu by the barmaid, or at least that's what she assumes the woman is, and her attentions falls to it. The meal itself is an easy choice and though she cringed at much of the drinks list remembering a night not a week past, she also can't resist the Ininye wine, it's makers had been close family friend's with hers for generations. "Um, the mutton special and a glass of the Ininye?" Her voice is somewhat heavily accented, with an occasional almost elven syllable here and there.

"So, who are the rest of you?" She forgets to introduce herself first, but she is nervous enough already.

[Zany]

Charlie loved the Tavern, she had never really understood why, although she had considered the question often as she fought for sleep on the cold nights alone.
Perhaps it was the aroma of food that drifted about the place and clung thick with mouth watering enticement to every furnishing, carried high on a serving wenches hand teasingly out of reach.
Perhaps even it was the warmth of the fire and the music which so often roared within? She did like the music it churned her insides in ways she had not experienced before, father had his old flute, which he often played at night by the fire and she loved him for it but the music in the Bleeding Heart did exactly that, it made her heart bleed, with all kinds of feelings she delighted in.
Perhaps it was its abundance of wood, the tables were thick oak and stained with years of food, drink and merriment? She had placed her palm flat against the dark, smooth surface of one and sensed that just like an old tree, they wanted to talk to her, tell her their tales, if only she were not too stupid to hear them. Of course she had been inside, often, it was a great place to find dropped coins or leftover chunks of meat or bread, occasionally something even more valuable such as a ring or scarf. Never when it had been full of people though, never had it been open in fact, it was a different place when empty like an old stone croft echoing the passage of time, of the lives that had passed.

What she was sure she didn't love about the Inn though was the noise, the busy, rowdy, chaotic, rabble of noise that hummed and scrambled her mind, no certainly not the noise, give her the quiet woods and hillsides any time. She sat below the window now and that noise wrapped her, smothered her and confused her as she tried to pick some sense from it.

"Am I the only first-time visitor to this fine establishment? Perchance is anyone else here planning to meet with the Sheriff this evening regarding his call for stout adventurers? If you are, please feel free to join me at my table and let me buy you a drink!"

She heard those words clearly above the din, maybe because they interested her so much, but more likely because the man who called them was huge, he sat on the small wooden stool like a turkey trying to roost in the hen house. She took him to be a blacksmith or something similar, with his plain clothes and a hammer big enough to shoe a Minotaur, not that she had ever seen such a creature of course. Yet he was here about the advertisement, strange that a blacksmith would be looking for adventure. she thought, all the smiths she had met seemed such homely folk. Still she was not here to care about the why, what interested her was that he was not only here for the meeting with the sheriff, but that he would now act as a beacon to all others who had the same purpose. Her job of identifying those she intended to join had just been made immeasurably easier and by a farrier of all people.

Charlie considered the absurd idea that she could just respond, enter the Tavern sit opposite the giant and say "I am such an adventurer! I want to roam the hills killing ogres and dragons and stealing their treasure, I will be joining you, now let me buy you another drink Big Man." she shook her head to clear the stupid childish thoughts, she wouldn't make it past the door yet alone be accepted by this itinerant smith.
Patience she thought, patience and diligence.

As she watched others wandered over to join the giant at his table, the first was probably the most beautiful woman Charlie had ever seen, sleek and bright, her skin a pale blue. Charlie felt a little intimidated by this woman's beauty, and her exquisite armor and bow, I bet she wouldn't be shooting no rocks she thought remembering all her broken practice arrows. Zenalia was her name, or so she told the big blacksmith with the moustache, she was just musing on how even the woman's name was exotic when another joined them.
If there were a mirror which reflected everything exactly opposite to how it was then this new woman was the other side of Zenalia's mirror. Dressed in full armor this woman looked like a battle hardened fighter, with her skin painting and her half nakedness she was certainly drawing the attention of everyone else in the tavern too. This was going to be a lot harder than she had first imagined, these people would certainly not invite a girl like her to join them.
Charlie's heart sank at the despair of her situation, she should have followed that wagon and headed to the hills, she should and she still could.

She was just about to turn away and leave when a third person joined the table. Charlie's eyes widened as she watched the young girl, certainly not much older than Charlie was, well than she admitted to being at least. She was beautiful and quite innocent in her mannerisms as if she were not even aware of the contrast between herself and the others at the table. Just as brash as you like she sits down at the table and orders some food, her voice some kind of foreign or something. Charlie was astounded, nobody had thrown the girl out of the tavern and none of the prospective adventurers at the table showed any discourtesy toward her.

Her mind was tumbling, rolling over ideas and thoughts, possibilities, why was she looking for a way to join these people, surely they couldn't stop her, if they did she could just follow them, show them she was useful. Why was she out here, hiding, why was she frightened, why? why? why?

Her mind was still trying to get a handle on all the turmoil when another young girl entered the tavern and approached the table, she was young, slight and lugging a backpack that looked almost too heavy for her. Bold as brass she walked right up to the diverse looking group, she smiled at each of them before pulling out a stool and sitting down calm as you like. Charlie couldn't believe what she was seeing, this young girl seemed to have no cares, full of confidence and bravado, she turned to the big man with the mallet and smiled.

"Hi I'm Charlie." she said "Count me in. You some kind of horseshoer or something mister?"

Oh Crap! she thought and suddenly felt very self conscious on the little stool.

 

Actions Swift/Free = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Charlie 9/9 16 14 12 Normal +0 +6 +1 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Dagger Weapon +4(+4 ranged 10ft) 1d4+1 Composit Shortbow Weapon +4 70ft1d6 Languages   -- Common, Dwarven, Giant Weapon Finesse Feat - Use DEX modifier instead of STR modifier Stealthy Feat - +2 Escape artist/Stealth Checks Highlander Trait - +1 Stealth/ +2 Stealth Hilly Rocky Areas Sneak Attack Ability   1d6 Acrobatics Skill +8   Bluff Skill +4   Climb Skill 5   Disable Device Skill +8   Escape Artist Skill +10   Knowledge: Geography Skill +3   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +5   Sleight of Hand Skill +8   Stealth Skill +11   Survival Skill +2

[Foxtrot]

Life is a journey. The phrase continued to run through Logan's mind as he walked along the well traveled road. The gravel crunching under his heavy footfalls in a steady rhythm playing under the melody of a song. Each step yet another beat in the traveling music filling his mind. While a horse would have been faster and more efficient, the knight had grown up learning to appreciate each step in the journey. Not only did it leave time to familiarize oneself with the countryside, but it allowed one to get a feel for where they were. These lands were quiet. The people were good hard workers who seemed to enjoy the simple things in life. It was all the more imperative that someone answered the request that had been posted. Evil may have a foothold in this world, but that didn't mean it couldn't be driven back into the shadows. Logan had taken the vow long ago to do what he could to help those who could not help themselves. The people of Hengistbury were now those people.

Initially, Logan had considered following a different path. His own personal quest to find his family had ended and he was about to head back north to catch up to his mentor. Fate had a different road for him to travel it seemed. He couldn't in good conscience turn his back on a call for help. Besides, he was raised better than that. How could he consider himself a Paladin of the Inheritor if he didn't uphold the ideals of such a title? He couldn't. It wasn't in his nature. Besides, the closer he got to the village, the more he became convinced his services were needed. Trolls, mysterious wolves, and plenty of other rumors permeated conversations he had during his trek. Someone had to do something.

The warm sun continued beating down on the armored traveler, yet his hopes were high. The village had come into view once he had reached the last bridge. Soon he would meet with this Brand Torek and begin doing what he was destined to do. For all the years the shining knight had traveled with his mentor, he had always been in the background. The support to the real hero. This was his opportunity to step out of her sizable shadow and make his mark on the world. However, first he had something more important to do. Eat.

The Bleeding Heart Tavern seemed as good a place as any to grab a bite before his meeting with the local sheriff. After all, it would do little for his first impression if his stomach was growling. Besides, short of a few meals he earned by helping out a few people along the way, he had eaten little more than rations and bread. A good meal and a drink would do him some good. Just the idea of meat and mead made his mouth water. The dulcet tones of music permeated the air outside the local tavern bringing a warmth to the well traveled man. It had felt like an eternity since Logan had been around people. He had forgotten how lonely the road could be when you had no one to share it with. Sure there was a caravan that he could have joined during his journey here, but to do so would have taken away from his chance to get a feel for the area. To see just what made this corner of the world so special. He had no regrets about letting it pass him by. Even if it did lengthen his travel time, it was all worth it. Had he really been in a hurry he could have come by horse. Walking offered a unique opportunity to learn more about the area. Seldom will people stop and talk to a horse and wagon, but if you happen to be walking by, people had a habit of being friendly and being friendly led to information. That same information was easy enough to put in its place for solving the puzzle of just what he was getting himself into. Now with the tavern, he might even be able to get a good look at the finished piece. After all, his mentor Gloria had always said that a little drink could loosen the tongues of even the most tight lipped. Logan couldn't dispute that. He had seen it first hand. Men having one pint too many and thinking they knew everything about everything. The trick was to not fall into the very trap the information was coming from.

To the side a small group of children were gathered near a window. Their eyes peering inside. Logan had no idea whether they were up to mischief or just curious. All things considered, his experience with children had been rather limited. He was the only child in the temple and once he left, the Paladin was never in one place long enough to really get to know any. For a brief moment he thought about walking over and giving them a bit of a scare that only an adult can do. See if they had their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. The thought brought a small grin to the corner of his mouth, but was soon forgotten as a booming voice called out from within. Logan's brow furrowed. He should have known that he wouldn't be the only one to respond to the poster. Still, something about the boisterous voice gave him a sense that if he were to work with someone as loud as that, it may end up being a much more interesting job than anticipated. And not in the good way. Before he knew it, the knight watched one of the children make her way inside the tavern. It seemed a little odd that someone so young would patronize a place like this, but it wasn't completely unheard of. Logan wasn't sure how things worked in this village short of his own fantasies of what it might be like. Regardless, standing outside of the establishment wasn't going to get him anywhere. Nor was it likely to fill his belly.

With a deep breath, the lonely warrior of the Iomedae stepped into the tavern stopping stoically to get a good look at the place. While it shouldn't have been, the bustling crowd was a bit surprising to see. Chances seemed pretty good that this was the only place around that people gathered to relax. It made sense once he let the thought sink in. As expected all eyes turned to him upon entering. It was far from a new experience and all things told, Logan had become quite used to it over the years. This wasn't an urban sprawl where warriors of the cloth were common. This was the countryside. Men like Logan were bound to be a rare sight. Still, most seemed friendly. The musician even gave him a wave. Albeit a three fingered one, but a wave nonetheless. The sight gave the Paladin a bit of pause as he wondered just how the musician could have lost his other fingers and even more than that how he could play his mandolin so well given his handicap. There were a few other notable patrons including a man who seemed buried in some kind of work and of course, the table of people who didn't seem like they fit together. A large man, two elves, a child, and a savage looking woman. It didn't take a genius deduction to know that the loud voice had come from there. No offense to any of them, but the group seemed a little more diverse than what he had come across on his way to Hengistbury. That usually meant adventurers. Given what he heard outside, the same adventurers that were planning on answering the same request he had come across.

Logan's thoughts were quickly interrupted by a young woman holding a menu. Before she could welcome him, the knight smiled at her and said with a nod in the direction of the table of strangers, "I'll be joining them." He wasn't sure why he said it. Perhaps he just wanted the kind of company that he could relate to. Perhaps it something else. It didn't really matter. He didn't sense any ill intentions from any of them. In fact, they actually seemed to be good people from what he could feel. Not pure like the radiant light bestowed by the goddess on those who teach her ways, but the kind of good where their intentions were driven by the goodness inside. Still, there was one who seemed a little on the fence in the group. One whose morals were far less chivalrous than the others. One he may need to keep a bit of an eye on. One who he had seen enter just before himself.

With confidence in his step, Logan walked up to the table and stood at the head of it looking over the assembled group for a moment. His steely gaze enhanced by the strange golden glow of his eyes in the firelight that lit the place as he looked to each of them in turn. His posture straight and sure. "Good afternoon ladies and sir. I would ask permission to join you." It was simple, polite and to the point. No need in exchanging pleasantries just yet. He wanted to see how these people reacted to him before he made his next move. Most people had their own predispositions about men like him and until he understood how these people judged him Logan wouldn't know how best to engage them. Life was a journey and he didn't want to start this particular path off on the wrong foot.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Logan 13/13 17 10 17 Normal +4 +1 +2 1 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Greatsword Weapon +4 2d6+4 Dagger Weapon +4(+1 Ranged 10') 1d4+3 Languages   -- Common Power Attack Feat   –1 penalty on attack rolls gains +2 bonus on damage rolls/+1.5 with two handed weapons Fast Learner Feat   Gain +1 Skill Point and +1 HP when leveling up in Favored Class Blood of Dragons Trait   Gain Low-light vision Aura of Good Special Ability   Detects the auras of good Detect Evil Special Ability   Sense the presence of evil Smite Evil Special Ability +3 Attack & Damage Bonus +2 Damage against evil/Paladin level & +3 Deflection Diplomacy Skill +7   Heal Skill +4   Intimidate Skill +3   Knowledge: Religion Skill +4   Perception Skill +1   Sense Motive Skill +4

[ItsaVerb]

Marion scanned the room for shiny armor on thick brutes, searching for stereotypical mercenaries, the tough men who might be queuing up to make a run at the Sheriff's job. His head was turned away from the source of the feminine voice that caught his ear, speaking of stout adventurers. The voice was addressing him, and when he turned to respond he was caught entirely unprepared for the vision that would fill his eyes.

Surely it was a goddess standing before him, her hand extended in greeting. If somehow he had died in these last few moments and this was his first glance at the afterlife, he was very optimistic about the prospects.

"Foam?" was the only word that left his lips, and it did so with a squeak, as he touched her hand. She was indeed mortal, and he did yet live. The rugged callouses on her fingers reminded him that he was meeting one of the mercenaries he was looking for, but didn't expect to see. You have five seconds, FIVE seconds, Marion! Think your best image, then think no more of it. This is not fun time.

The big man noticed a heat in his cheeks that had turned to nearly a burn, and after ten seconds, he still hadn't been able to tear his eyes away. Thankfully, starting then, four more of the stout adventurers made themselves known, giving Marion much else on which to focus his attentions. Certainly a diverse group of candidates for the Sheriff's mission, and that was putting it gently. The warrior found himself suddenly very concerned, for a few different yet equally compelling reasons, about the makeup of this batch of candidates. He wouldn't presume there wouldn't be several more seeking to earn the job, so it wasn't time to jump to conclusions.

Marion saw to it the orders of all the adventurers were tended to, including a fresh ale for himself, though he still hadn't touched the extra tankard sat there on the table when he arrived, then rising to make a toast. "Name's Marion Torsgaard. My friends call me Big Kahuna, and everyone I meet is a friend, unless they prove to me otherwise. I thank you for accepting my invitation, and I raise my glass to you all and wish us all good luck.

I do this sort of thing for a living, and as reckless a lifestyle as it may seem, I know a sense of honor and commitment I'm sure not many truly experience. I know the unique bond that is formed between people--in some ways stronger even than family--when you've faced fear together, and risked your own life for another, and they've risked theirs for you. I've fought alongside many fine men and women, some have died while I survived, better men and women than me, and I'm a better man for having known them, and it's for them I buy the first drink when it's time to celebrate life, and it is for them that I stay brave.

I also prefer to be very clear about what you can expect from me, though we are yet little more than strangers. I will not question nor will I judge anyone's intentions or their reasons for being here, so long as those reasons do not cross purposes with any goal we decide to share. I won't lie to you. If there's anything you want to know about me, ask, and I'll tell you. I will never, ever mix business with pleasure, and no matter what circumstance we might face, will leave none of you behind, in life or in death." Kahuna raised his tankard and took a hearty pull, this time remembering to lick the extra foam from his mustache. "Cheers, my friends!"

The sincerity of Marion's speech was underscored by the sound of snickering... children outside the tavern window. The guttersnipes were clearly up to something at least they thought was hilarious.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Marion "Big Kahuna" Thorsgaard 13/13 18 12 16 Normal +4 +2 +0 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Lucerne Hammer Weapon +6 1d12+6 Languages   -- Common, Skald Enforcer Feat - On non-lethal damage, a free action may be used to intimidate target Bully Trait - +1 to Intimidate checks/Class skill Killer Trait - Add'l critical damage on crit hits Intimidate Skill +7   Sense Motive Skill +3   Survival Skill +4

[LeoByron]

Zenalia was accustomed, for the most part, to her effect on the male gender and endured Marion's lingering gaze with graceful aplomb. She knew her appearance to be exotic, even among her own kind, and was inured to the reactions she elicited from those she encountered. She only hoped he would learn to see past her exterior veneer and accept her as a valued member of his group for her own intrinsic merits, and not just for the fodder to fantasy she so often dreaded to become. She was grateful when the rest of the would-be adventurers approached their table and offered a welcome distraction from what might have become an awkward introduction.

First to approach is a beautiful and exotic-looking woman whose orcish heritage gives a strong and stern impression, but there is a vulnerability to her that belies the courage it took for her to approach them so brazenly. Zenalia gives her a genuine welcoming smile, more than willing to reserve her judgements for the deeds she has yet to display then for the blood which courses through her veins.

"Of course there is room for a stout and courageous warrior like yourself!" she says in greeting and offers her hand in welcome.

Zenalia takes her seat at the table and though she greets each newcomer with a polite smile and a kind word, she is quickly growing less comfortable with the increasing numbers at their table. Zenalia is always most comfortable in her own company and crowds make her decidedly nervous and forlorn.

She takes particular note when Charlie joins their table, smiling wide at the young lass when she joins them, but not condescendingly so. Zen admires Charlie's courage just as she did Runa's when she joined them.

When finally they are all gathered at the table enjoying food and drink and pleasant company, she listens attentively when Marion gives his impassioned speech. Zen nods in approval at his words, not saying much, but observing each of her comrades' reaction to them and already begins to feel the stirrings within her which frighten her. She likes these people already, and it fills her with a mild feeling of dread in her gut. "I will not lose them too... she vows to herself, already feeling protective of and responsible for this group.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Zenalia Le'Andaree 8/8 15 13 12 Normal +2 +3 +5 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Composite Longbow [+1] Weapon +3 1d8+1 Spiked Gauntlet Weapon +1 1d4+1 Languages   -- Common, Elven, Draconic Point Blank Shot Feat - +1 atk & dmg with ranged weapons if target is within 30' Sacred Touch Trait - As a standard action, you may automatically stabilize a dying creature merely by touching it. Channel Energy Class Ability   1d6 Heal or dmg undead; 4/day Calming Touch Domain Ability   6/day - Heal 1d6+1/lvl Nonlethal dmg; Remove Fatigued, Shaken, Sickened Speak with Animals Domain Ability   4 rounds/day - Speak with Animals Acrobatics Skill +3   Heal Skill +3   Knowledge (nature) Skill +5   Knowledge (religion) Skill +5   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +3   Stealth Skill +4   Survival Skill +2   Spells Prepared Level Effect Create Water 0 Creates 2 gallons/level of pure water. Detect Magic 0 Detects spells and magic items within 60 ft. Light 0 Object shines like a torch. BlessDomain Slot* 1 Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear. Command 1 One subject obeys selected command for 1 round. Protection from Evil 1 +2 to AC and saves, plus additional protection against Evil.

[stobco]

Mood Music

Charlie Just before Charlie gathers enough courage to enter the tavern, Poke, the youngest of the Mortimer brothers, approaches the young girl. Charlie knows him better than his older brothers. Not because she wanted to, but because Poke had a crush on her, it was pretty obvious over the last few months. Speaking in a loud whisper so their soon to be victim can't hear them, "Hey, ummm, Charlie. I was ummm, wondering... Maybe we could get some sweets from the bakerSteffen's and we could ummm... you know, hang out?" Before you can answer the oldest brother, Gord, comes over and punches Poke on the arm. "Stop messing with your girlfriend and get over here! We're about ready to give Tamas a nice surprise. You can fool around with the girl after." Gord grabs Poke by the collar and drags him back over where they were, with the youngest brother looking at Charlie with a half smile as if to say "sorry".

Marion, Logan, Akya, Runa, Zenalia, Charlie As each of you make your way to Marion's table to accept his offer, you can feel the eyes of the locals on you. All of them know what day it is and the significance of it. If you had to guess, you would wager that there's more people present at the town's tavern than usual. And who could blame them really, this is the group that's supposed to help with the recent string of strange and unfortunate events. Once everyone sits and introductions and pleasantries are exchanged, the locals start to go about their own conversations, with the occasional look and head pointing towards the strangers. Meredith makes her way to the table and motions towards Charlie. "This one here, she's a tad to young to sitting in the Bleeding Heart, but if you guys can keep an eye on her I don't see any harm in letting her stay." Putting a smile on her face she looks at all of you. "I assume you're all here to have something to eat. Let me take your order and we'll have your food in front of you as soon as we can." The orders are taken and away she goes into the kitchen to place them. Just as she disappears into the kitchen, the dark skinned man sitting with his back to an open window, jumps up screaming mad, and now completely drenched with water. "Mortimers! I know it was you! I'll get you! All of you! One day you're going to regret all these pranks! And that pet giant of yours won't be around to help!" He tries to rub off some of the wetness, and then quickly makes his way out the front door, all the while you can here giggling out the window the water came through. The other patrons either let out a slight laugh or giggle, or shake their head in a symbol of disapproval, but you're not sure if it's towards the act the brothers performed on the poor man, or the words he shot at them. For the next little while, nothing unusual happens at the tavern. Your meal arrives in a timely manner and, once you get some into your mouth, you take note that the food is good, real good. If you're going to be working in the region for the next little while, it's a good thing the food will be good. Table conversation continues amongst you, and the stares disappear from the other patrons as they turn their attention to crops, business, and local gossip. The bard that waved to each of you as you entered continues to play his mandolin with only three fingers, including his thumb, on his strumming hand. As it nears closer to the time to be at Sheriff Torek's office, the bard stands and asks for everyone's attention. "Excuse me! Good folks of Hengistbury, may I have your attention please!" Once he has everyone's attention in the room, he continues. "Greetings to all of you on a fine spring evening. It's always my pleasure to stop in Hengistbury and visit the Bleeding Heart, one of the finest tavern in the region!" A round of cheers erupts from the locals. "Now, we are all aware of the significance of today, and I'm pretty sure I know who here is going to offer their services to the Lord and Lady!" A sweeping hand is sent in the direction of the six strangers. "It would be thoughtless on my part if I didn't do something to mark the occasion, so I've decided to sing a short, but meaningful song to celebrate the upstanding men and women that have presented themselves to help keep all of you safe." The three fingered bard takes up his mandolin, and proceeds to play a tune that all in the tavern seem to be familiar with. "'Tis a tale both sad and true, Lost to time and known by few. Harken well and sorrow know. Lord Pemberton of yesteryore Lost his heart to Elanour. Tragic seeds doth sorrow sow. Imprisoned by angry wife To give birth but never life. Two hearts wronged will sorrow grow. A witch burned but then returned To drive away with vengeance earned, For whither else can sorrow go? Where love and treasure linger still, In Brockendale entombed until Hardened hearts can sorrow show." Once finished the locals nod in approval, but do not clap, Skill Check DC 15 on Knowledge: Local, History, or Nobility to find out what it means to them, if anything.almost as if the song means something to them, something sad.. Moments later, the gentleman that hasn't paid any attention to his surroundings, doing nothing put studying and writing on the papers in front of him, jumps up yelling "I did it! I figured it out! It's going to happen! It's really going to happen." He continues to talk about Skill Check DC 18 Knowledge Arcana or Planes to have an idea of what he's talking about, if anything moons and alignment, waving papers around and holding them up in front of him. You know that time is short, you should be meeting with Sheriff Torak soon. But there's still some time before you have to leave.

OODM   Ok, there are some skill checks built into the post. Feel free to role other skill checks as you see fit. You each have enough time for one "encounter" with anyone in the tavern before you have to leave to meet the Sheriff, but don't feel that you have to if you don't want to. Also, I assume you guys had something to say to each other during the meal, but to keep the main game thread moving along I've skipped over that part. If you like feel free to use the "Interludes and Conversations" thread to play it out.

[ManannanMacLir]

For a few moments as the table arranges, Runa remains quiet but seems content for the most part; amused at Kahuna's awkwardness and thankful for the welcome given by the beautiful elf. As the others arrive, she greets them with a nod and a traditional Swift-Current blessing, "May you keep your health and freedom, friend." Along with the greeting, she takes the time to examine her potential companions. Runa enjoys the innocence that the elf displays and the child, Charlie, seems like she'll be fun. For her own part, the Half-orc doesn't seem to notice the girls age or find anything strange in her wanting to join the effort to make Hengistbury safe. Surely Charlie is older than she was during her own Rite of Adulthood. It's worth it to have her around for the hearty laugh she gives as she thinks of Marion shoeing a horse with the massive hammer of his.

But Runa's mood changes with the arrival of the Paladin. Initially, she offers him the same smile and greeting, but as her eyes fall upon the holy symbol he displays her smile falters, transforming to a look of pure hatred as she stands up, as if to leave the table entirely. But she doesn't go. She closes her eyes for a moment and the rage and disgust disappear as she centers her own mind, 'Hanspur, I feel that this is where I need to be, to find my own purpose. But I wonder if you had a part in sending one of the damned servants of the Unjust Inheritor. Why not Lamashtu or Rovagug? But if this is where I need to be, then this is where I'll be. Please, grant me the grace to act correctly...' With a last calming breath, she opens her eyes and regards Logan again, pleasantly this time. But there is still the underlying hint of a blade in her fiery eyes and voice as she welcomes him. In her emotional whirlwind, the words that Marion speak are mostly lost.

As Meredith comes to the table to take orders, and asks that they watch Charlie, Runa gives a playful smile, "The girl seems capable enough, and if she can pull her weight, she's enough of an adult for me." She refrains, for the time, of mentioning the way the orcs see the matter since most people still fear and revile her people. Or, more precisely, the murderous orcs that her clan had long separated from. She orders the oyster special and the Yellow Dog Cider, while wishing for trout. The wish is interrupted as her laughter returns, her eyes following the dark skinned man as he rushes from the tavern. As the evening wears on and she enjoys the mild Hengistbury festivities, she considers watches and observes everything in sight as she considers the few things that she truly knows, but very little comes to her mind. After her meal and some conversation, during which she pointedly ignores Logan, she approaches the strange man in the corner to ask after the portents he has divined.

 

Actions I don't know if we can make the knowledge checks untrained, so if not then those rolls will be null and void. But, here's some rolls. Dice Perception (General): 1d20+3 (4)+3 Total = 7 Dice Knowledge (Local) and Knowledge (History) DC: 15: 1d20 6 1d20 2 Dice Knowledge (Arcana) and Knowledge (Planes) DC: 18: 1d20 4 1d20 8 Dice Knowledge (Religion) - In case knowing the would help with any of the other stuff.: 1d20+4 (6)+4 Total = 10 Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Runa Liadan 13/13 17 11 16 Normal +5 +2 +6 1 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Trident (Melee or Thrown) Weapon +3/+1 1d8+3 - Brace Dagger x2 (Melee or Thrown) Weapon +3/+1 1d4+3 Sling Weapon +1 1d4+3 Languages   -- Common, Orc Toughness Feat - +3 HP immediately, +1 HP per level starting at Level 4 Endurance Feat - +4 to some checks, Can sleep in Medium Armor Beacon of Faith Trait - Once per day as free action, +2 to CL for domain powers and spells Channel Energy Class Ability   1d6 Heal or dmg undead; 4/day Handle Animal Skill +2   Heal Skill +3   Knowledge: Religion Skill +4   Perception Skill +3   Sense Motive Skill +7   Survival Skill +3   Spells Prepared Level Effect Create Water 0 Creates 2 gallons/level of pure water. Guidance 0 +1 on one attack roll, saving throw, or skill check. Spark 0 Ignites flammable objects. Cause FearDomain Slot* 1 One creature of 5 HD or less flees for 1d4 rounds. Magic Weapon 1 Weapon gains +1 bonus. Shield of Faith 1 Aura grants +2 or higher deflection bonus.

[Zany]

Charlie was a little put out at first, the big man had completely ignored her question, in fact he had ignored her point blank, typical she thought anger bubbling inside her. Filled with himself he instead stood to make some speech about camaraderie and judgment she only paid half a mind to it, her anger was getting the better of her. An incredible smile from the blue skinned woman went some way to assuaging her temper but not far enough by any stretch.

The big blacksmith was sitting himself back down full of his own pomp and she was just about to make a speech of her own, not quite in the same vein as the one he had made and certainly a lot more personal, when Tamas leapt up dripping water and yelling.
She couldn't help but smile and it reminded her of young Poke's approach outside, he was obviously besotted with her but he was so young and she had more important things to do so she'd ignored him.
She had ignored him like a child, she was as guilty as the blacksmith. She felt more than a little ashamed and her anger made a sharp turn into self loathing and pity, her own favorite phrase about weaknesses and assets came to mind. The blacksmith had ignored her that was true, but it was better than some of the alternatives, she was still sitting here at the table at least. The thought bolstered her a little and she sat a little taller on her stool, and besides, she added in her thoughts, if he ignores me, its easier to go unseen.
When in the company of grownups the best cloak is always youth. She smiled at that thought.

It brought her back to her senses and she spread the smile to include them all, including the blacksmith. She noticed one of the tavern staff walking away and recalled hearing something about food in a womans voice. She was hungry, those bread rolls had been hours ago and the smells in here were agony for her growling stomach, she hoped she was to be included in whatever the talk of food had been but she glanced around the tables anyway. She could always find her own nourishment, in fact Tamas had left his own plate virtually untouched.

Charlie was torn between saving Tamas's food from spoiling and not wanting to leave the table in case she wasn't allowed back when Jake decided to give a talk of his own, what is this speech day? Was there a wedding or an election or something? He spoke about volunteers and keeping the people safe and Charlie swelled a little at the words, he was talking about her, well her and these others of course, but definitely her.

Jake began to sing some song she quite liked the tune of although she had no idea what it was about, something about birth, life and sorrow, she could relate to those words even though she didn't understand the rest of the song. It made her feel sad again and her thoughts drifted to father and the way he swung his crook brushing the top of the grass heads as he walked on a summers day.

Her thoughts were broken when another man leapt to his feet and started yelling, this was all very strange, first the smith, then Tamas, next the bard and now this latest crackpot, Charlie was beginning to worry she might be expected to make a speech of her own. She Knowledge local - focus on Astrology dudewondered who this latest orator might be and ruffled through her memories for any recollection of him, when her stomach gave its greatest cry for attention yet. That settled it, she stood and wandered over to take Tamas's leftovers, nobody seemed to notice as usual, returning to the table to retake her place she stuffed a large slice of ham in her mouth and with a huge grin sat to listen to what the others might say, she would take her lead from them.

The meal made her thoughts drift to Tamas and she gave thanks to him for it, she wondered what he had done to draw the attention of the Mortimer brothers, she would have to talk to him sometime, perhaps she could help ease things between them all.

 

OOC Dice Knowledge local - focus on Astrology dude: 1d20+2 (11)+2 Total = 13 If Charlie were to talk to anyone I think she would go with Tamas although she is reluctant to leave the table at all now she is here. Actions Swift/Free = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Charlie 9/9 16 14 12 Normal +0 +6 +1 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Dagger Weapon +4(+4 ranged 10ft) 1d4+1 Composit Shortbow Weapon +4 70ft1d6 Languages   -- Common, Dwarven, Giant Weapon Finesse Feat - Use DEX modifier instead of STR modifier Stealthy Feat - +2 Escape artist/Stealth Checks Highlander Trait - +1 Stealth/ +2 Stealth Hilly Rocky Areas Sneak Attack Ability   1d6 Acrobatics Skill +8   Bluff Skill +4   Climb Skill 5   Disable Device Skill +8   Escape Artist Skill +10   Knowledge: Geography Skill +3   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +5   Sleight of Hand Skill +8   Stealth Skill +11   Survival Skill +2

[Foxtrot]

"Well said," Logan nodded at the large man who had identified himself as Marion, or was it Big Kahuna? Both names were rather odd. One was that of a female and the other just seemed... strange. Regardless, the big man's toast was well spoken and inspiring in the sense that he was open about his intents and purpose for being there. In that regard this man would make an admirable ally. Something he hadn't expected to find upon arriving in Hengistbury. The others gathered at the table were not quite as forthcoming although the tall female was giving off plenty of vibes that she was uncomfortable around him. The look she gave... Logan hadn't even realized that this woman was of mixed blood until he locked his gaze on her green eyes when she stood up. So much disdain. So much anger. He had no idea what he had done to receive such vitriol, but it would make things more difficult going forward if he didn't learn the source of her reaction toward him. Certainly people were entitled to not like one another, but it makes more sense to at least wait until you meet them and get to know a little about them before disliking them. Whatever the issue the woman had obviously stemmed from somewhere other than this chance meeting. Her heritage suggested that her ancestors came from a foul race. The woman herself seemed to be in contrast to himself. So wild and untamed. Somehow she had managed to greet him with a blessing of some kind. One Logan replied to with a simple "Thank you," that belied his tone of cautiousness and reservation. He wasn't sure where this was all leading, however, the big man's speech offered an easy out of any more intensity that could grow from the situation. As did the timely arrival of their server.

Logan took his seat and scanned the menu. To his surprise there was no chicken on it. Not that he didn't like the other choices, but for some reason he had a hankering for some chicken all day, so the end result was a little disappointing. In the end he was grateful for what he did have. Were he to have to hunt for his food, he would probably starve or at the very least become a vegetarian. A distasteful thought that was. On more levels than one. The knight was about to speak up to Meredith for the young girl who had snuck her way into the group when Runa beat him to the punch. The words used furrowed the Paladin's brow as if to silently ask, And what if she can't pull her weight? What then? He didn't like the way this half-blood was making him feel. That much was sure. Maybe if their first meeting were a little different things would not be as they were, but it was too late to go back now. As it were, the knight and the witch were headed on a collision course that one day would force them to confront one another in order to settle whatever differences were between them. "I'll have the Boiled Elk and Yellow Dog Cider thank you," the conflicted warrior said to the barmaid before turning his attention back to the rest of the group to learn more about them. As Fate would have it, interruption seemed the order of the day.

Logan's head whipped to the side as his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. Years of training gave him the reaction of reaching for his weapon first even though most situations never called for him to draw it out. His mentor had called it a preventative reaction. Better to be caught ready than to be caught completely off guard. Like so many other times, this was not the time for drawing arms. Instead it seemed the children outside the window were truly up to no good given the now soaked man flailing about and shouting. Logan's eyes swerved over to the young girl at the table for a brief second noticing a smile followed for just the briefest of moments a look of sadness. Or was it pity? It was difficult to tell. In truth, Logan almost felt like he should have confronted the youths when he saw them outside, but given the reaction of the people in the tavern, the harmless prank may have been a little deserved. Besides no one really was hurt. Still, it might not hurt to find out just what was going on. Perhaps even by just asking the one at the table. Or that was at the table just a second ago. Logan looked around the room for the young girl only to find her back in her seat with a plateful of food. Did she even order? He raised an eyebrow at her as if to ask Where did you get that food? It was possible she swiped it from somewhere, or maybe she ordered it before he arrived. Whatever the case he wasn't ready to pass any judgment on her. She deserved the benefit of the doubt for now. There was obviously more to the child than it appeared. That was not a bad thing, but it also meant the Paladin may have to watch her a little more carefully if she were to continue to hang around with the group. Not that he could stop her from doing so if he tried. It was getting more and more apparent that she had already decided she was a part of the group. It reminded him of how he just imposed himself upon his own mentor until she took him with her. If this girl was to join them, it would be best if she were there with them completely rather than on the fringe looking in. Far easier to protect her that way. Not just from outside threats, but from herself and her youth.

"It seems we are a little more popular than I expected," Logan commented warily about the added attention given to them by the minstrel. He wasn't very comfortable being in the spotlight even though he knew that part came with his choice of being who he was. He didn't do what he did for fame and fortune. He did it because that was what people should do. Help where they can to make the world a better place. The song itself was interesting, but Logan had lost interest in the words about halfway through. His mind more concerned about who he was going to be working with than a diddy about love tragically something, something. The gesture was nice, but hardly as important as some of the other things he had going on. Plus the missing fingers gave him a strange sort of apprehension about looking at the musician. As if he were being rude for staring and yet when he looked he couldn't help, but stare at the missing digits. 'Twas better to just avoid that bit of embarrassment all together. Most everyone seemed to be entranced by the music being played. The locals were especially receptive to the melody. In a way it made the knight feel a bit ashamed for not paying attention. Especially given the reaction when the tune ended. No applause. No reaction. At least until someone jumped up screaming about something about to happen.

Logan's attention quickly turned to the man whose discovery had him so excited. Babbling about things that were way over the Paladin's head academically. Whatever this man had found must have been quite the breakthrough. In a way it seemed to cement the idea that there was far more going on in this corner of the world than he had believed when he first decided to come here. Between the pranksters, the song, and this man things were far more interesting in Hengistbury than would appear from the outside. Time was running short, however. There was no way Logan could find out everything before he had to meet with the sheriff. Then again, he wasn't alone. At least not as alone as he might have been had the Big Kahuna, a name he will probably never get used to, had the man not gathered them all together with his boisterous call for friends. With a smile Logan looked at those assembled and said, "I know we don't know each other very well, but it seems there is more here than meets the eye. In my journeys information has often been the key to victory. We all have a meeting to attend in short order, but implore you to do me a favor. I would ask that we all split up and ask a few questions about some of the things we have seen and heard here tonight. That man over there has learned something important. I have no doubt he would be willing to share his discovery with us if we ask. The bard sang a song that seemed to affect these people down to their very core. It must have some significance. I'm sure someone here could explain it to us if we want to know more about it. Finally, I don't know what that prank earlier was all about, but escalation is never a good thing. Especially when there is talk of a giant possibly being involved. We might want to look in on that as well before we find ourselves caught up in something that we don't want to be caught up in. I do not ask you this favor lightly and you are all entitled to decline doing so if you wish. However, I believe it to be a service both to us and the community if we learn more about what is happening. I will let you all decide how you wish to proceed and once that is complete, make my own decision based on what you all do. For those of you who do this, I thank you. For those of you who decline, I hold no ill will. I understand that we are here for another reason and that we might just be wasting our time with this. Either way, do what you think is right."

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Knowledge Rolls Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Logan 13/13 17 10 17 Normal +4 +1 +2 1 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Greatsword Weapon +4 2d6+4 Dagger Weapon +4(+1 Ranged 10') 1d4+3 Languages   -- Common Power Attack Feat   –1 penalty on attack rolls gains +2 bonus on damage rolls/+1.5 with two handed weapons Fast Learner Feat   Gain +1 Skill Point and +1 HP when leveling up in Favored Class Blood of Dragons Trait   Gain Low-light vision Aura of Good Special Ability   Detects the auras of good Detect Evil Special Ability   Sense the presence of evil Smite Evil Special Ability +3 Attack & Damage Bonus +2 Damage against evil/Paladin level & +3 Deflection Diplomacy Skill +7   Heal Skill +4   Intimidate Skill +3   Knowledge: Religion Skill +4   Perception Skill +1   Sense Motive Skill +4

[LeoByron]

When the Paladin of The Inheritor makes his appearance, Zen stiffens for a moment when she notices the look in Runa's Eyes. Danger... she thinks to herself. Erastil grant these kind folk the serenity to overcome the obstacles in their hearts to exist in harmony and lead them instead to the tranquility and harmony of community. The quick prayer helps to calm her own unease and seems to have done some good for the others as well, as Runa quickly masters herself and chooses to overcome whatever presupposition had elicited such a response in her. Good, she thinks to herself. I am glad I was not wrong about that one.

She gives Runa a subtle nod of approval and silently thanks her for her wise decision.

No sooner has the moment of tension between Runa and Logan resolved itself than a new threat to the group's serenity suddenly materialize. Zenalia's keen eyes do not miss Charlie's resentfulness at being dismissed by the group's de facto leader and she feels a surge of empathy for the youth's resulting hurt and resentful feelings. She tries to get Marion's attention so that he may respond to the youth's initial query, but sees that the Big Kahuna is not so much choosing to ignore Charlie, but is simply distracted by all the goings on in the busy tavern.

Zenalia is about to say as much to Charlie in an attempt to soothe her bruised ego when she realizes she is no longer at their table. Scanning the inn, she notices Charlie acquire the now abandoned plate of food left behind by the unfortunate sopping individual who ran off to chase the troublemakers outside. Zen's eyes immediately dart to Logan to see if the Paladin notices the theft happening right under his nose. She gives Logan her biggest smile, making it as friendly and welcoming as she possibly can in an attempt to distract him. Her efforts are only partially successful as she sees Logan stare at the little rogue, obviously perturbed by the food's sudden appearance. Zen takes some solace that her attempts to distract the Paladin at least kept him from catching the minor infraction while it was happening. Zen is, for the most part, law-abiding, but she does not begrudge Charlie's appropriation of a plate of food which may have otherwise gone to waste. Zen tells herself that if the food's owner returns to find his food absent, she will herself pay to replace it, even if only to deflect the possible tensions any scene the man makes might create in the group.

When the Bard regales the group with his speech Zen thinks to herself: This problem the Pembertons are hiring us to take care of must be more serious than I thought if the people of Hengistbury are all so keenly aware of their efforts to hire us. Gossip and interest is one thing. The local tavern Bard ttaking the time to single us out is a whole other matter. This task is important to these people. It means something to them. I wonder if his song has something to do with it? To give birth but never life? Were the couple trying to have a child but produced nothing but stillborn offspring? Did this send the man to the arms of another woman? Did the 'angry wife' pay some witch to try and avenge her cheating husband and perchance help her to conceive a child? Sounds like everything went south and things backfired on both of them... Maybe we are being hired to seek out this vengeful witch?

Zen is taken aback when the scholar makes his odd declaration of discovery, but is unable to puzzle whether anything he says is sensible. She decides to let the others puzzle it out as they seem to be working out who will speak to who to see if either will lead to any clues regarding their mission here. She decides to share her thoughts on the song and her opinion that it may be a clue as to what task the Pembertons hired them to do and decides to speak to Meredith.

"Excuse me dear miss? If I could have a word? I don't suppose you noticed the man who was seated there? You, know, the one who so recently received a full helping of that water bucket? I wonder if you would have some idea as to what happened exactly? Do you know what reason, if any, the rascals would have to take out their ire on the poor fellow? Who was he exactly, if you don't mind my asking?"

Zen then lowers her voice and leans in closer:

"I also noticed his food must have gotten soggy and has been cleared away. I would hate for the tensions between the rowdy children and the man to escalate should he learn that his food was ruined as well as his clothes besotted... May I pay for its replacement to help ease the tensions of the situation?"

She hands Meredith 2 gold pieces to pay for her own meal as well as the one Charlie appropriated, and waits for the serving lass's response to her questions.

 

Actions Swift = Nothing Move = Nothing Standard = Nothing Name HP AC Touch Flat Status Fort Ref Will Hero Zenalia Le'Andaree 8/8 15 13 12 Normal +2 +3 +5 0 Skill/Ability Type Mod Effect Composite Longbow [+1] Weapon +3 1d8+1 Spiked Gauntlet Weapon +1 1d4+1 Languages   -- Common, Elven, Draconic Point Blank Shot Feat - +1 atk & dmg with ranged weapons if target is within 30' Sacred Touch Trait - As a standard action, you may automatically stabilize a dying creature merely by touching it. Channel Energy Class Ability   1d6 Heal or dmg undead; 4/day Calming Touch Domain Ability   6/day - Heal 1d6+1/lvl Nonlethal dmg; Remove Fatigued, Shaken, Sickened Speak with Animals Domain Ability   4 rounds/day - Speak with Animals Acrobatics Skill +3   Heal Skill +3   Knowledge (nature) Skill +5   Knowledge (religion) Skill +5   Perception Skill +5   Sense Motive Skill +3   Stealth Skill +4   Survival Skill +2   Spells Prepared Level Effect Create Water 0 Creates 2 gallons/level of pure water. Detect Magic 0 Detects spells and magic items within 60 ft. Light 0 Object shines like a torch. BlessDomain Slot* 1 Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear. Command 1 One subject obeys selected command for 1 round. Protection from Evil 1 +2 to AC and saves, plus additional protection against Evil.