D&D Act One - The God's blood

Fourier

Posts in character and for players accepted from this thread: D&D game

Over a thousand years ago two empires and the conclave of wizards at their helm waged a terrible magical war that shattered the landscape. In those days Soetrard was but a trading outpost between the Empires. Situated at the edge of a peninsula, it largely survived the geoforming spells that destroyed most other cities, leaving it fit to function as a center of trade in the post-War world. Today it has built itself into the largest city state on the continent.

It is ruled in unison by a council of eight clerics and the hereditary prince of Soetrard. The clerics meet once a year during the festival of Sopspeak in Revelation Tower where the patron deity of the city, Soet, speaks to them for eight minutes to give advice for the coming year.

In the past three decades Soetrard has become famous among surrounding nations for the development of the steam train. Thirty years ago a large female gold dragon, Citra, landed outside the city gates and asked for the prince. The city held its breath for a day, until the prince returned with news that Citra would give her ninety children to the city to power their newly invented steam trains. In return the city would feed them. Each train now has a dragon's room, where the infant drakes use their fire breath to make the steam powering the train's pistons.

One bright spring day such a train passes over Loter's bridge in west Soetrard, nestled beneath the bridge is "The Cobbler's Giblets", a dimly regarded ale house for adventuring types. Our adventurers all happen to be seated at one of the center long tables. A waitress brings a fresh ale to Bandylegs McGillicuddy, while the group converses.....

Necro

*hic* I suppose I'll get this conversation started. I am Bandylegs McGillicuddy, the only child of Brandywine McGillicuddy. He was a Dwarven Prison Guard before he met an unfortunate...end. I worship the Dwarven God Vergadain. Who are all you supposed to be anyways?

Mollyb60

Oh look another drunk dwarf. *eye roll* I'm Elin, daughter of no-one from a nowhere town with nowhere plans.
Say.......did you perchance mislay this fine pipe? *smirks as she pulls a pipe from inside her jacket*

[OOC: I'm assuming you own a pipe Necro]

Necro

Dang and blast it woman! What in the name of Dumathoin's beard are you doing with that? Wait... you're one of those people... aren't you? Hmmm... Your skills could come in handy.. perhaps. *Turns to his right* And who in Vergadain's name are you?

Waitress, bring that tankard over here, Bandylegs is thirsty!

Lord TSC

Hey guys and gals.

Name is Alexander Fluthar. Yes, yes, I'm one of those Fluthars, known for their Iron Mongery across the land. But that's my father's business. I've chosen a different path in life. My brothers and sisters are the ones following in his large shoes.

No, I've got no natural ability in such things, hammers, nails....tools and weapons in general. So I'm grateful you guys have let me tag along to forge my own path. I've started to develop my magical abilities, and am hoping following you guys around gives me the oportunity to learn new spells and develop my own set of spectacular skills, to make my family proud.

Digital Solitude

I'm uhh.. Moy.

I'm out travelling, are you guys staying here all night too? I've already had one too many *burp*

Mollyb60

Males who cant hold their liquor are of no use to me. *downs glass of brandy *

Well.....maybe of some use.....*eyes up muscle bound man down the table*

Fourier

The waitress staggers back with a colossal tankard of ale. "Here you are Sir dwarf, enough to get even your kind stone drunk I hope or you'll drink us out of a bloody business"

Necro

Pshah! Dwarves have no time for magic or any of that sort of hokum. Unless... hmmm... welcome, Moy. I see we share a love for ale. My kind of guy. *Raises glass*

Come, tell me some more about yourselves. If I like what I hear, I may even share some of this ale with you. What brings you to this tavern on this particular night?

*downs glass of ale and pours another one from the massive tankard*

sKeith

"Hey bar wench, i could use a massive tankard of ale too!", "Evening folks, Ekbards the name. Yur dwarf in de kilt sure farts a lot!"

Fourier

The waitress eyes Ekbard.

"You're just a man, a big one, but still. 'Ere, you can have this". She goes to the bar and brings back a bottle of some unknown brew that smells of copper.

Necro

Eckbard, leave that bottle be. I am not familiar with this unknown brew. You can share some of my ale. *Eyes bottle suspiciously*

Fourier

A wizened old man wanders over from across the bar and taps Alexander on the shoulder.

"Oy, I know you, one of the Fluthar childer, I used to deal with your father. Took the iron to Casten down the coast years ago, did your father ever tell you...." he begins to ramble a monotonous story about old days on the iron trading route.

sKeith

*takes a swig from bottle* "ah, dragons blood elixer, haven't had that in a while, cheers madam"

Lord TSC

Alexander, socially awkward as usual, nods along to the old man's story; Alex remembers the names of some of the locations the man mentions from maps of trading routes his father used to have in his study. But he never visited himself, and as such, let's the man ramble on without interrupting.

The Soup King

Arry the halfling sits with his arms folded, a long curved pipe hangs from his mouth. He is dressed in simple but well made earth coloured clothes.

Speaking in a friendly but matter of fact way he says:
'Well my name is Arry. I'm here for the same reason as the rest I suppose: work. Preferably the not so dull and well payed sort'

He turns to Eling and says with a smile and a pat of his pocket (speaking neutral)

'and I am well aware of the location and content of my pocket book my dear lady.'

Fourier

The old man is nearly doubled over laughing "....and then he says, 'Harder than iron miss!', honestly he said that"
"Good to talk about the old days with somebody who knows his iron, say you pop down to my shop, old Fustak's ironwares, whenever you want. I could swing a discount for a Fluthar"

He hobbles out of the bar.

Necro

Welcome, 'Arry. Good to see I'm not the, ahem - runt of the litter among us. *Snorts with laughter* Here, have a half glass of ale. It might loosen your tongue a little.

I still don't trust that bottle. And Bandylegs is usually right about these things.

Fourier

Ekbard's stomach turns as the dragon's blood elixir begins to affect him, few can take the strong drink and this is Soetrard's local brew.

OOC: Ekbard needs to make a Constitution roll, so sKeith please roll a d20 and we'll see if it is under your Constitution value.

Fourier

OOC: We're using rolz.org and sKeith got a 6, so he's fine, it's under his CON value. sKeith you can describe Ekbard handling his drink. I'll do less of these OOC comments as we get familiar with the rules and flow of the game.

sKeith

"you're wise not to trust the bottle bandylegs, its probably too much for a dwarf to handle, but as i said, i've had it before and can handle it's kick ;p"

The Soup King

Arry lets out a chuckle and takes the drink from Bandylegs.

"Thank you my good dwarf, 'free drink makes fast friends' as my owl gaffer loved to say.May he walk the woods in peace"

Banjo

Mauler Fiole leans forward to join the conversation, then checks himself.

"I'm..."

*sitting back, he tilts his tankard back and forth while absently thumbing a similarly empty coin pouch. He sighs and thinks better of taking a swig and lowers his voice to a mutter*

"I'm... Plough. Just Plough."

Again he leans forward

"Tell me plain like - do you have work? The real kind? I'm ready! I can swing! I can.. I can pally! I know me swords."

To prove it he mimes a perfect tree-felling axe swing, narrowly missing Arry's head.

Ilberic Goodenough is the name. Before you say it; its not Bad-enough, Almost-enough, Close-enough, Not-Quite-Enough or any other permutations. If your measly grey matter can think of it, I've heard it. So let's all save ourselves the bother and nip that one in the bud. It's hard enough being the son of the Immortal Goodenough without being ironically reminded that I cannot step out of my family's shadow on a regular basis.

Don't bother passing the ale, it dulls the mind. Look at this oaf, he's proud of almost killing himself. Can we get this show on the road or what? I didn't come here to make friends.

sKeith

"i like you ilberic. you say justenough!"

Necro

Pfft, Ekbard I p1ss dragon's blood elixir and I... *farts loudly* sh1te their teeth. I'm just not so foolish to drink an unknown bottle from that chicken-breasted wench up there.

Iberic speaks sense though. Did we come here to make small talk and be craven or did we come here for another purpose. Bandylegs is looking for adventure, and more importantly, the treasures that go along with said adventures.

I have plans of building a monument in the town square dedicated to Vergadain. Prince and his clerics be damned!

sKeith

i'd be game on pooling our skills into a gang as such, but instead of building some sort of prince memorial statue, i'd be more into enslaving a 'borrowed' drake youngling into doing our bidding, or at the least seeking a reward for its recovery.

Necro

Prince! *Spits on the floor* Vergadain is no prince! He is the Dwarven God of Wealth and Luck! The symbol of all that is righteous in the world. Prince...pah! I will ask you to speak no ill of Vergadain, and this proposed... gang, fellowship, troupe... whatever you other mewlings want to call it shall be a success.

I shall spend my portion of any treasures we lay our hands on as I see fit. This drake idea of yours is intriguing though.

Where is Elin gone - has she passed out already from too much brandy? What sort of crew am I dealing with here? A *spits again* magick, 2 halflings, a Moy... Plough... and you, Iberic.

sKeith

If only there was some place local we could acquire a bunch of iron spikes and 50 feet of rope, we could try subdue a drake The 13 spike dragon encapture technique i think it was called. I recall my young collegues using it to acquire dragonsblood when i was younger, allowing them to hold a drake long enough to drain enough blood to make the elixer. Unfortunately, all of my collegues from back then got burned alive in some freak accident but i think we could improvise the technique and make it work.

And you say too much. Kidnapping a drake? And we're going to extort the Prince is it? And then ride off into sunset I suppose? Have another swig there. Let's see what else we can come up with. I didn't think it was possible but you are stupider than you look.

Not sure who you are counting there Bandylegs but I am a halfling.

Mollyb60

The Soup King wrote: »

He turns to Eling and says with a smile and a pat of his pocket (speaking neutral)

'and I am well aware of the location and content of my pocket book my dear lady.'

Oooh Arry you don't miss much do ya? I think we're gonna get along just fine.

Oh! Look at that! Mr Bandylegs you seem to have eh, dropped your money purse!! It's looking a bit light for my liking. How are you gonna pay for all that ale? I get the feeling we're all after a bit of adventure here. And I'm sure a few of us, like poor Bandy here, could do with a few extra coins weighing us down.
Has anyone heard tell of anyone looking for a group of adventurers?

Necro

Ha, my dear Elin of course that purse is light. I'm afraid you won't find any joys under my kilt. Apart from the obvious! *Breaks into a big deep booming laugh*

In fact, I would imagine those in your line of work would be wasting their time with all the occupants of this here table. How's about we plan to change that, eh?

OldGoat

Saeros sips from a glass of local wine while listening to the conversation at the table.
Quietly I whisper to Ekbard
"I have a silver piece saying that the dwarf is the first to pass out at the table. Wager?"

sKeith

"i'll take that wager"

*Takes 10 quick swigs from the bottle*

OldGoat

*Casts Charm Person on barmaid.
Whispers to Elin
"See yon fighter Ekabard. Two silver pieces says he drinks himself into a stupor within the next 30 minutes".

Mollyb60

OldGoat wrote: »

*Casts Charm Person on barmaid.
Whispers to Elin
"See yon fighter Ekabard. Two silver pieces says he drinks himself into a stupor within the next 30 minutes".

Well I'm not normally a betting person but my money's on Bandylegs there. He still hasn't noticed that I've stolen his belt.

sKeith

"haha, Saeros is the resident bookmaker, covering his preceeved losses like a pro, dat sucker elin, one born wary minut'"

OldGoat

Hey, Alexander, did I overhear correctly that you can get a discount on supplies? I could always use a spare spell book and ink at the right price. Speaking of spells, wanna compare notes and perhaps swap a spell or two? Gotta collect them all!

Banjo

*Mauler lifts his tankard to his lips but spills it as he's slapped across the back by one of a passing group of Yeomen.
"Drink up, Stockknocker!" they proclaim, laughing.
Mauler makes to stand, but tenses, grits his teeth and sits back down. They move on*

Necro

Are we all quite finished comparing phallic sizes? Apologies Elin for the coarse language, although from the looks of you it's nothing new. Meaning no offence, of course.

sKeith

"One, two, three, four, I declare a phallic war", "Five, six, seven, eight, try to keep your phallics straight."

Mollyb60

Leave me out of your war boys.
Oh, here's your belt Bandy. We can't have that kilt falling down now can we?

OldGoat

Once you go Elf everything else is..emm, err...lower shelf!

Lord TSC

OldGoat wrote: »

Hey, Alexander, did I overhear correctly that you can get a discount on supplies? I could always use a spare spell book and ink at the right price. Speaking of spells, wanna compare notes and perhaps swap a spell or two? Gotta collect them all!

Yeah, he said we can get some discounts, which is great because I appear to have misplace....um....everything I own, other than my clothes....

Mollyb60

Well it wasn't me anyway!

sKeith

"tell dat to the frog u damn scorpean!"

Fourier

The barmaid comes back over and smiles at Saeros.

"Would any of you lot like anything else, you're definitely the loudest table we have today"

At the same time there is a knock at the tavern door, which is answered by the young man behind the bar. Six members of the city watch with their dull bronze armour step through into the tavern and begin to question him, although their demeanor is pleasant enough and the young man seems to be under no pressure.

The barmaid speaks again directly to Saeros

"They were looking for help from some of your lot yesterday, not an Elf I mean, the questing types"

Necro

Hmm. I'm much to drunk to be dealing with that lot. I suggest someone who is a little less inebriated. Perhaps you could speak to them, Alexander? My tolerance for soldiers and their bravado is low right now.

sKeith

"It took six men to come in to tell you that yesterday they were looking for people like us.... I wonder how many would have come in if they were looking for people like us today!"

sKeith

".. and send some cake to this table, we need cake"