[OOC] The Empty Portal Tavern and Inn

[Sparhawk]

Here's the Spot for Out of Character Banter. Any Questions or Comments That are not Related to the Game Should be Directed to This Thread.

[Jeigh]

Huzzah for a 2nd edition game! I am rip-roaring excited to get going on this and I look forward to getting to know all of you

[Sparhawk]

Same here, my friend! It's been far too long since I've done this.

[Sparhawk]

So with the deadline for new players ending today, I now like to establish a new deadline for character creation. Since I start school a week from today, I would like to have the ball rolling before then. What do you guys say we focus on character creation this week and have the first game thread posted by Monday the 21st? That work for everyone?

[Jeigh]

That works for me. I think I'm about half-way done with my character already so it should be no problem at all!

[Jotur]

yah I just had a follow up racial question if I get that answerd I can have this guy done probubly in a day
been awhile since I had to spend money in 2e so that will probubly be the most time consuming factor

[Sparhawk]

I think you're all squared away

[GoddessGamer]

A character done by next monday? I think I can manage that.

[Jeigh]

Jotur and GoddessGamerWelcome to everyone else!

Sparhawk:
Did you want us to start posting in the gaming thread? By the way you've written the prologue, it looks both like we could respond, and that it is written in a third person story monologue sort of way. Just looking for a bit of clarification.

[Sparhawk]

Oh, jeeze! That was supposed to be for my eyes only :P Oh well. Lets wait and start posting when everyone's character is ready. You can, however, read it and use the information to tweek your character's backgrounds if you like. There's a lot of history included about the world you come from, so it might be helpful, or at least interesting

[Sparhawk]

How are you guys doing? Characters coming along good?

[Majestyk]

I forgot how the 2e Handbook was notorious for hiding important bits of info in long strings of text.

Like the Lasso (listed as a Thief weapon).... where the frack are the Lasso specs in the PHB?!? Nowhere, that's where! Had to go googling to find out that they were in the fighter supplement, but when I read the details on its usage it made my eyes bleed, so I dropped it.

But yeah... coming along well. Pretty much done with skill/equipment selection. May tweak a bit here and there, but it's solid enough to finish the background that I've had working in the back of my head, while building 3 classes.

Looking forward to playing this guy.

[Split]

Hello everyone! Mr.Sparhawk was kind enough to let me sneak in under the closing curtains, and I figured I should Introduce myself!

Super excited to play this riveting narrative with yon party of adventuring heroes and heroines!

[Majestyk]

Welcome to the party, Split.

[Majestyk]

Maxwell's Background   My father was the local magistrate of a small town, far away. When I was young he seemed like a terribly important man, in charge of everything. As I grew older I realized our town wasn’t large and my father’s power was very limited. He served at the will of others, people he would never see in person. My mother was elven. She maintained our home, our family, and would tend to the planning of our parties and festivals. She was a beautiful woman, with a warm smile and kind heart. At least, that is how I remember her. Our town wasn’t large, but it sat on a well-traveled road. It was rarely anyone’s destination, but many people found themselves spending time there. Because of that, we were fairly well informed for being so provincial. I managed to see most of it, while I followed my brother around, as he ran errands for our parents. Everyone liked my brother, Ronwell, as much as I did. He was tall, strong, handsome, and confident. People smiled when they saw him and laughed when they talked with him. He was well mannered and kind, but he would not back down from what he thought was right. Maybe if, he had, he wouldn’t have gone away. Our home became strained, as my brother became a young man. There were increasingly heated arguments between he and our father. I don’t know what they were exactly about, but I know it had something to do with the rebellion and the Fyrists. It wasn’t long after that he was just gone. My parents wouldn’t tell me where he had gone, just that he was gone and that I shouldn’t talk about him any more. That’s not something an 11 year old would find easy to do, but they would become angry, when I did, so eventually I complied. About a year later, on Ronwell’s birthday, I asked my father about him. Where had he gone? Why did he go? Would he ever come back? I had never stopped thinking about these questions and I thought his birthday was the time to start asking them again. My father would not have it. When I persisted to inquire about my brother and suggested that he inquire to his superiors, he struck me across the face and told me to never mention him again. It wasn’t the first time he had hit me, but never before in the face and never without an accompanying lesson to be learned. I looked at my mother and though her expression seemed a little pained, she told me to do as my father commanded. That night I made my decision to find Ronwell myself. Whether I had any chance of doing so did not matter. I would not stay in that house any longer. Over the next week I gathered together things I thought I would need and packed them in a small sack. Then one morning, I snuck off with the sack and hid in a wagon that was leaving town. The food I had taken did not last long. Within a week I was pilfering unattended produce from merchants. That did not last long either, as I noticed the merchants paying closer attention to me as I passed by the storefronts. This was when the thought occurred to me to “lift” someone’s coin purse. Of course, thinking and doing are two different things, one being easier than the other. For my first attempt, I chose a group of people who, looked to be travelers and were engaged in discussion. I failed and was caught in the attempt , but as I plead my circumstance, they appeared sympathetic and offered to feed me if, I would work for them. I agreed to their terms. The small group that offered me work were rebels, Fyrists, who were fighting to end the Tarasian Empire. Their small band was part of a larger group of rebels who conducted raids on Tarasian interests. They moved their encampments frequently and were constantly sending scouting parties out to gather intelligence. Not only were they a means to food and shelter, but they were also the best source of information I could hope for, if I were ever to learn the fate of Ronwell. They became my new family. There were four members of the Cleric’s band. When I wasn’t carrying, digging, washing, polishing, delivering, and fetching I was watching and listening, trying to learn the skills I would need when I became a man. Eventually, each of them tired of me lurking about and actively taught me about their professions. The Fighter taught me about weapons of all type and how to endure injury. The Thief taught me how to be stealthy and manipulative. The Mage taught me the ways of arcane magic, reading, and writing. I had little use for religion, but the Cleric taught me about healing and the properties of various plants and herbs. It’s been 13 years since I left my childhood home. In that time my mentors and benefactors have either passed from this world or can no longer carry on the fight in the field. They taught me well, while they were here. I have taken their place in the field, with hope that we can defeat the Tarasians once and for all… and maybe, I’ll one day find my brother.