[Game Thread] Episode 1: The Typical D&D Trope

[StealWyrmm]

Father back than anyone can remember, the gods banished all of the world to eternally live in deepest darkest dungeons under the mountains of the world. Over the period of a hundred years or so, a civilization was forged (one that was rough and hardy), and they began exploring the dungeons in which they were placed. What the races discovered was in their banishment the gods did not abandon them, as previously thought. No, in their tremendous mercy, they created a world under the mountains, nearly every ecology was established, the only difference, the world was eternally dark with only lava illuminating many points and there is a ceiling to the new world. With that many great cities rose up (with the dwarves carving many into the side of the mountain as to not disrupt the ecology of the world, the reason for their previous banishment). With that the world survived and the rough caves formed (not to mention many key places were permanently illuminated by powerful wizards, though they are actually on a daytime cycle for the benefits of the plant life mostly.


This was the world you grew up in, with each city establishing their own government. For your own reasons you have found yourself in a newly forming city. Maybe you were drawn there for work, or maybe just to see the marvelous dwarves at work, the opportunities are endless. But whatever your reason, this fine evening has found you in the tavern celebrating with everyone at the amazing progress that has been made recently (who ever needs a real reason to celebrate and drink?). The old men are repeating tales of their life and stories handed down for centuries about the surface before it was destroyed. The barmaids flirt with their costumers and the men get drunker and drunker. In the corner a bard sings of women, whiskey, and brave rough-riders (he might even have a southern twang). The cavernous tavern sing with life (and singing and drunken men thinking they're singing). The owner wanders around talking to his customers and creating small talk.

Now would be the time to introduce yourselves.

[MrD]

17 Beers.....18.....19......20....Granite Block chugged another and smacked the flagon down on the rough table top, picked up the earthenware jug in his massive hand and tipped it over his flagon but nothing but a dribble poured out. "GRrrraahhh!" he yelled in disgust and hurled the jug away. He thrust himself up from the table and grabbed a passing serving wench round the waist. "Moooore Beeeeer!" he demanded and spinning her around sent her off with slap on her bottom, she yelped in protest and moved away towards the bar. "Har Har Harr!" he thumped back down on the bench next to a man wearing the garb of a Northern Ranger who was slumped half on the floor half on the bench obviously the worse for wear. The huge Half Orc grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him up into a more or less sitting position. "Drink Friend.....Driiink! Tomorrow we may die!" he shook the man who just flopped limply from side to side and as he let him go he slid down off the bench with a groan, his head making a hollow clacking sound as it hit the stone floor. "Bwarr Ha HArrrrrrr *Hic*. You Drink like a Girl.." He looked up and peered around the bar "Wheres my BEEER!" he bellowed. The serving wench pushed her way through the crowds receiving a pinch here dodging a kiss there frothy beer slopping from the flagons she carried between the patrons. As she passed by Granite she plonked another jug of Beer on the the table and briskly moved away. "YEeeeessss! Beeeer!" he growled and set about pouring number 21...

[bulbaquil]

Not for the first time, Taalim had to ask himself what exactly he was doing here in one of the more dwarvy parts of the realm rather than one of the more open, airy, better-lit caverns that better befitted his personality and interests. He listened to one of the old men regale, somewhat tipsily, his comrades-at-rounds of the legendary "surface" and its "sun". The sun had always been an interest of his, and he meditated on it quite frequently. As best Taalim could tell, it was a lot like the bright lights that shone in the parts of the world he preferred to spend more time in, but a lot, lot, brighter than that, and much like those lights it only shone during the daytime.

In the interest of not angering the barkeep by entering and not drinking, there presumably being no such thing as a "designated driver" in this world, unless automobiles were invented without Taalim's knowledge, he plops himself down on a stool and orders, and drinks, a dwarven stout. Not being an elf, he does not find this anathema or heretical, though it is still rather strong drink for one of his race and constitution. Soon, he surmises, he'll wander over and listen in on various interesting conversations with various interesting people....

Dice Fortitude Save:

d20+2

(15)+2

Total = 17

[pianoman90]

Aldalgrim wandered into the tavern almost without meaning to. Looking incredibly out of place, both for his childlike appearance, and his astonished expression at the size of the tavern, a serving maid immediately approached him and began to usher him out the door. Aldalgrim seemed not to notice this effect at all, and stepped aside as the maid came towards him, then extended a small hand. "Aldalgrim is my name, but you can call me Ald. This looks like a most fascinating place! I have never been inside a tavern where I can hardly see the roof. How high do you think it is? I wonder whether anyone has ever tried to build all the way to the top and touch the roof! Would it feel the same as the rest of these dungeons? I think that it would have to be made of some special material so that it doesn't all fall on our heads. What is your name?" The chatty nature of the halfling was clearly flustering the confused barmaid, and Aldalgrim sat there politely waiting for a reply.

Not for long however, as he hears a roaring voice over near the bar. "Oh, gosh! That is a large man over there" Ald said to the barmaid, "I wonder who he is?" and without waiting for any response, he moves directly over to the large Half-orc and prods him gently. "Hello there! My name is Aldalgrim, but you can call me Ald. What is your name friend? You look like you have some interesting stories to tell-I love stories! My stories are from all over the dungeons and all of them are definitely true! You can ask anyone if you like." As Ald was gibbering away to the half-orc, his hands were constantly busy moving around the table in a very kleptomaniac sort of way. His hands found something interesting, and he Roll for stealing any small item on the tabletop

Dice Sleight of Hand:

1d20+11

(15)+11

Total = 26

attempted, purely subconsciously, to put it into his pouch around his waist...

[Wretched]

Parin sat contently in the corner sipping on a bottle of rum, slicking back his greasy hair. Underworld sailing was an exahsting proffession, as underwater rivers are a vicious beast. After this last attempt to move supplies from another city, Parin lost the shipment on his raft and was down on his luck once again. He found himself spending the money he received as an advance to fill his belly up with rum and his attention turned towards the women througout the bar, wondering if he could find himself some action....

[MrD]

"UGH! Wassat?" Granite looked down to see a small person prodding him. He raised his fist ready to swat the annoyance away when he heard it say "...My Stories are from all over the dungeon...". He liked stories, especially ones about beer and women and battles. He lifted the little fellow by the shoulders, and plonked him on the table top. "Stories, Tell me stories little one, and Drrink!" he grabbed the flagon the Ranger had been using and thrust it at the little chap. Beer spilled over the top and slopped onto the table. He looked down and a puzzled expression crossed his face. On the table lay a solitary pebble, his pebble, he was sure a moment ago he'd had many pebbles but now there was only one? He looked around the bar suspiciously his eyes finally alighting on the little person in front of him. "Have you got any pebbles in your pockets!!!!" he grabbed the halfling roughly by the shoulder....then lowering his voice, he whispered.. "If you have, take good care of them. I think there is a pebble thief about....." He looked suspiciously around the room once more then roared "What about these stories then......Har! Harrrr!"

[pianoman90]

Ald looks into the slightly bleary eyes of the Half-Orc and listens intently to what he says. Contrary to what it might seem, Ald could be a good listener from time to time. "Pebbles? Oh yes, I have pebbles-lots of them! They were a present from my great-grandfather to me of my coming of age. Always thought he was a bit odd.... Anyway, I see you like pebbles too! Did you want some of mine?" With that he put down 5 pebbles next to the one, the picked them all up with a grin. "With this pebble thief around I think it would be safest if they were kept in your pocket! Don't want them getting stolen now-my little present to you." With genuine cheeriness, Ald held out his hand and plopped all 6 pebbles into the Half-Orc's hand. "What did you say your name was again? Mine is Ald."

Without waiting for his reply, the Halfling continued on. "Now to a story! Did you know I absolutely adore stories? I used to sit on my mother's knee while my father would tell me all sorts of stories from his time wandering! There was this one where he swore he met a god! Can you believe that? A real god!" Ald's face fell a little, and he sighed "But the next day 2 men came into our house and took him away-said he was off to an asylum or something.." He brightened a little. "Do you have a story, Mr, er Half-Orc big guy?"

[bulbaquil]

"Pebble thief?" Taalim muttered to himself, louder than he'd been trying to, as he turned toward the boisterous half-orc and the halfling beside him. Who on earth would want to steal pebbles, of all things, unless there was some city where pebbles were used as currency? He didn't have any pebbles, but he did have gold, which was more valuable. Instinctively, he checked his pockets, but didn't find any missing gold.

As the halfling continued his story, Taalim started making his way over to that table, even though he was certain he'd hear anything the half-orc had to say from the opposite side of the bar. There was that time he'd met a dragon wandering. At least, he thought he'd met a dragon. Maybe that was actually a dream... or maybe one dwarven ale was one too many. Particularly considering the dragon was purple with green polka-dots.

[MrD]

Granite stared at the pebbles in his hand. There was...one...and another one...that made...many.......yep he definitely had many pebbles again.

"Don't worry little man, I've found them here..." He showed his open hand containing the six small stones to he Halfling,..."They were in my hand all along...Ha Harrrr! You must think I'm stupid. Names Granite..." He thought for a moment "people normally just call me.....Granite?" He smiled a tusked smile "People who want to live that is..Ha!..Harrrr!" He patted the Halfling on the head.

He listened in a state of complete grippedness to Ald's story of his father meeting a god. When he'd finished the tale he concentrated really hard...
"...Errrr...So....Did the two men...work for the God, or something?" He took a swig from his Beer. "Great story...Harrrr!"

"Do you have a story, Mr, er Half-Orc big guy?" the little guy asked.

"Have I got a story?" He scratched his head....

"Have I told you the one about the pebble thief? No! Well....I was in this bar...Ha Harr it really was this bar...and I had many pebbles on the table and..........."

The Half Orc retold his latest adventure

"...and they were in my hand all the time..Ha Ha Harrrr!"

[Yuul]

If it wasn't for the well known and accepted fact that inns and taverns, social gathering points that they are, were a good source of information on the recent happenings of a region, then he would rather be anywhere but here. This thought alongside a multitude of similar ones passed through Temir's mind as he entered the overcrowded and smelly establishment. His hood up so as to somewhat further limit contact with the greasy looking, for the most part, patrons. He was nearly roughed up at least twice, or perhaps he misunderstood another walking close by for aggression...

Regardless he swatted any hand he deemed offending that was too close aside, staring down those who looked like they might retaliate. He didn't look it, but he could be quite intimidating when he wished, his naturally small half elven build or not. Of immediate notice once Temir was past the entryway was the loud, booming half-orc at one of the tables. He seemed to have a couple people gathering around his table, the halfling for one. He caught the end of something they apparently considered a story. Pebble thieves? Really?

He paused for a moment. Of course, there could actually be some idiot running around and stealing pebbles, perhaps it was some kind of obsession? He shook his head, as if to clear it of the annoying train of thought, before looking around. He had to start somewhere after all. He eyed a man sipping a bottle of rum in the corner as he looked about the room, particularly at the woman. He might do.

Grabbing another bottle of rum from a passing barmaid he walked over to the table in that corner and took the opposite seat. He indicated the bottle in his hand before speaking. "You wouldn't happen to know anything of note or recent happenings about the area would you? If so, the rum's yours." Temir gave the man a lookover before adding, "And perhaps some coin as well."

[StealWyrmm]

Over the course of the conversations a bulging man strides into the bar, his wide gait causing him to speedily (and heavily) cross the room. As he strode, the crowd seemed to part around him and after passing, quickly close back up. However, nobody seemed to want to cross the man, though any observant person would guess it was more from respect than fear. He appears to have a wide smile and a belting laugh that was almost as loud as the half-orc's voice.

It didn't take long for the man to get a beer (apparently for free) and cross the room once again to strike up a short conversation with some of the old men in the tavern. During those conversations he appears to be scanning the room, watching each and every person with keen interest and a critical eye. After 30 minutes or so of this, he nods to the elderly beside him, hands the men a purse, and quickly begins striding across the room to the half-orc, halfling, and the sylph.

Good evening, my friends, he greets you with a wide (apparently genuine smile). I could help but over hearing your stories. The pebble thief on was particularly intriguing, as he says that he watched the halfling. I have a proposition for you, if you would like to hear it.

[Wretched]

Taking another swig of his rum, Parin's veiw of a lovely barmaid became blocked by a elf with a bottle of rum. Upon closer inspection he noticed that he was also half elf, though he appeared to have inherited more elven features than Parin had himself. Rocking back, he saw a man approaching a much more boisterous group.

"Just pass'n through 'ere lad, but opportunity is knocking just across the bar ere." Parin said as he pointed his head towards the large man hunched over the other group.

[pianoman90]

Ald, now sitting cross-legged on the table and listening avidly to Granite's spiel looked up and was almost surprised by the number of people around the table now, as if the idea that the conversation between him and Granite had attracted attention was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. "Oh! I am sorry, I didn't see you there. The pebble thief is a particularly nasty looking character from what I have heard-all arms and legs, if you know what I mean. By the way Granite, here is another one of your pebbles that I just found here!" He pushes another pebble into the Half-orc's hand with a smile.

"Now onto this proposal! I absolutely love adventures! Did I tell you about the one where I went off into a huge cavern and met a crazy wizard? He was quite mad you know. Tried to magick me inside out again, but I said 'oh no you don't mr wizard' and shot him pew!! right through the head!" Ald sights down an imaginary bow and fires off an arrow across the room. "Now what was your your proposal?

[mountainbound]

The roar of the establishment was too much for the self-styled scholar. Wearing his striped cloak and positioning his tweed cap at a jaunty angle, Don had been making eyes at one of the barmaids for some time. He thought he might have a chance tonight. After all, he had just returned from his first official adventure into the depths of stone below the new city. Even killed a purple jelly. Well, it wasn't a REAL purple jelly, but it was gelatinous, and by the light of torch it appeared more akin to violet than green. So, yes... a purple jelly. And his sword acquired a nice notch in the process -- Don would need to remember that particular detail the next time he manifested it.

When his neighbors by the bar started talking bout pebbles though, Don turned around. Though he was a swordsman, Donald Bumsmelled's one true love was reading, and he had read about magic rocks once. In his 32 years he had read at least as many books, and he considered himself quite learned as a result. "Say," he began, "I couldn't help but overhear, but are you talking about the fabled Stones of Kodpeece? It's said that the man who dons them can transform into a true stallion, able to satisfy the desi---" but at that moment Don's erudite description is cut short by a benign old man. Stupefied by the man's presence, the warrior can do nothing but listen along with the others.

[Yuul]

Temir glances over at the half-orc's table, noticing the large man that wasn't there the last time he had looked. He couldn't quite make out what the man was saying, but it had to look and feel of a proposition. Propositions typically meant coin and supplies. While he had enough coin to last a couple weeks if necessary, it was much better when he didn't have to make money stretch out to last as long as possible. His topaz eyes, glimmering through the shadows of his hood, glance down at the bottle of rum still in his hand before looking back over at the table across the way. "You might be right. And I am not one to turn down extra coin and supplies."

Gesturing to the unopened bottle still in his hand he adds, "The half-orc doesn't seem to be one to turn down a free drink either. Time to be somewhat charitable if I must. You coming?" He asks without looking back, standing from his seat and strolling over to the table in question. He practically glides into one of the seats opposite the large and unintelligent looking half-orc before sliding a now opened bottle of rum across to the other side, for the moment ignoring the older man who had seemed to be offering the table something, stopping it from going to far and thus off the edge with a bit of Mage Handmagic. "You wouldn't mind an extra drink would you? It seems I grabbed one too many."