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D&D Act One Scene II - Temple District

Fourier

Castius leads the group out of the Cobbler's Gibblets, from under Loter's bridge away from the train line. They turn right at the crossroads past the bridge on to the temple district.

The throng of religious activity is overwhelming. The temples vary in size from kiosk sized to mansion sized along the two mile street. Converters and preachers shout at the characters as they walk past....

"Gambush blesses the strong..."
"Relep welcomes even the elven into his might tree house in the life beyond life..."
"Our world is not to last much longer, the hordes of Glagor will descend upon..."

Continuing further a small crowd is gathered around a newly built temple, made from a converted newspaper stand. The red haired man behind the stand rants about his four day old religion, which stands out as this week's best new faith as he actually has a small doorway to its afterlife clearly visible in the back.

"I don't know how you earn your way in yet, but well....she's there at least...." he bellows into the crowd.

Castius rolls his eyes and gestures to the other guards "We don't need another crowd lost in a small afterlife, the last one could only hold four, keep an eye on him Gauis" and one of the guards remains at the stand.

Finally in the middle of the district they stop.

"Here you all are" he tosses 50 GP in pouches at each of the adventurers. Not everything here is a temple, there's Donnie the Discount Elf's Weaponoporium over there, as well as other shops of armour and weapons. Askit wants ye well equipped."

"Also, any of ye who are religious, please attend to your gods before we continue, I'll be here until you return".

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Digital Solitude

Fourier wrote: »

Outside Temple of Kastra:

"In a room in our temple. Follow me."

He leads you into Kastra's temple, which is surprisingly poorly adorned, they really do take poverty seriously. You enter a room with several men in tatters. There is a circular dip in the floor at the room's center, which the Cleric enters.

He calls other worshipers to him:
"My brothers, Kastra calls us to poverty to focus the mind on divine combat, so that we may one day be the gates that prevent the fall of man. Today I prove my prowess in arms.

Let us begin."

OOC: He gets initiative 2, what's yours DS?

OOC: I rolled 6. I can't remember if that's good or bad.

I follow him into the dip, slowly pulling my staff out from behind my back, and take stance.

The Soup King

Fourier wrote: »

Back in the middle of the temple district:

Castius smiles. "Thank you gallant halfling, your kind is unequaled in pipelore."

He takes a quick puff

"You're kind is trusting and peaceful my father used to say. Soetrard changed any of that for you?"

"It certainly has. This world you big folk have built its a cruel place. I mean no offence to you sir but greed, corruption, unbalance, destruction of nature these things are common here. I grew up in a tribe of halflings in the heart of a great wood far from here, sharing and communitie that was are way... but my tribe is gone now only I am left. "

Arry stops speaking for a moment and takes a deep draw on his pipe.

" I am trusting I am peaceful, it's in my very blood to be that way. It's just I am more careful with whom I trust, as for peace I believe in balance and some deserve no peace.

Fourier

Vergadain's temple:

Necrominus wrote: »

Now, can you point me to your store my friend. I have equipment to gather!'

"Yes, just this way"

The store lies on the rich end of the temple district, close to the temple of Soet himself. And an impressive store it is.

"Vergadain's rules prevent me from improving the temple I founded myself. I'm glad to have found another. Please enter"

OOC: In the store Gear is 20% cheaper than the price in the rules, but armour and weapons are 10% more expensive.

Fourier

Outside Temple of Kastra:

Digital Solitude wrote: »

However, some training would not go astray, I will accept your invitation to a duel. Here and now, or someplace quieter?"

"In a room in our temple. Follow me."

He leads you into Kastra's temple, which is surprisingly poorly adorned, they really do take poverty seriously. You enter a room with several men in tatters. There is a circular dip in the floor at the room's center, which the Cleric enters.

He calls other worshipers to him:
"My brothers, Kastra calls us to poverty to focus the mind on divine combat, so that we may one day be the gates that prevent the fall of man. Today I prove my prowess in arms.

Let us begin."

OOC: He gets initiative 2, what's yours DS?

Necro

Fourier wrote: »

In Vergadain's temple:

If you're travelling to the Blight Mountains at any point, I have heard there is a local saint in the village of Thurmunton whose blessing can empower any dwarf, or a human if he has received training in the arts of war for their own sake.

The blessing would be good enough, but as a fellow worshipper of Vergadain, I must tell you a wealth of treasure lies in the saint's tomb. Vergadain loves a successful thieving my boy.

OOC: "received training in the arts of war for their own sake" is in-game speak for the Fighter class.

Bandylegs eyes light up.

'My friend, you have made Bandylegs an incredibly happy dwarf on this day. Perchance should I stop by the Blue Mountains, I will be sure to stop in and.. ahem.. alleviate the saint of both his blessing... and his treasures. Rest assured my friend, if the rumours prove true, I shall return and improve our surroundings for our shrine. This is my aim, you have my word.

Now, can you point me to your store my friend. I have equipment to gather!'

Digital Solitude

Fourier wrote: »

In front of the temple of Kastra

"Why I am chief martyr of tears to Kastra's main temple here in Soetrard. Nothing compared to her temples in my homeland, but still. I of course have no name..." he seems to take great pride in this "...I removed even that basic possession from my person."

He pauses.

"I wonder who is the greater god or who amongst us has the greater faith. Neither of us are mere priests, but Clerics, members of the faith militant for our religions. Would you care for a quick friendly contest in arms?"

He puts a hand gently on a mace strapped to his side.

"You read me wrong Chief Marytr, were there a shorter title...

My order has no militant branch, only militant men, of which I am not. I am merely on a journey and carry my weapon for self defense.

However, some training would not go astray, I will accept your invitation to a duel. Here and now, or someplace quieter?"

Fourier

Back in the middle of the temple district:

The Soup King wrote: »

"i had some change and couldn't resist picking up some Halfling Heather I spotted on the way here. Would anyone care for a pipe full?"

Castius smiles. "Thank you gallant halfling, your kind is unequaled in pipelore."

He takes a quick puff

"You're kind is trusting and peaceful my father used to say. Soetrard changed any of that for you?"

Fourier

Digital Solitude wrote: »

*I look at his weapon and take note of his apparel*

OOC: I'd ask the DM what he's wearing here but I'm not sure how

The mace seems typical enough and he has no armour to speak of. Judging by the robes he seems to be an Adept.

OOC: Typical mace deals 1d6 damage. Adept is in-game for a Level 2 Cleric. If I understand your OOC comment, the way you went about it is perfect, i.e. say your character "looks at", "studies" or "takes note of" their clothing.

Fourier

In Fustak's Ironwares:

Lord TSC wrote: »

Alexander: ah, I'm afraid as a magic user, my skills with armour are somewhat . . . Lacking. Thought the padlock intrigues me. Is there something special about it? Is it enchanted? Made from rare and delicate materials? Is the protection magical in nature to warrant its price tag?

"It's acid resistant my boy and almost unbreakable, as iron it would take rare strength to break it or high heat to melt it. Given what dwells in the bowels of the Earth, it can help brave types like yourself."

OOC: This lock will secure a door against all but the strongest monsters (e.g. Dragons) Even those with acid attacks cannot break it. It may be the item the saves the group at some point, but the price is undeniably steep even with the discount.

Fourier

In Vergadain's temple:

Necrominus wrote: »

Have you heard of any rumours of quests? My crew likely will not care who they get the information from, as long as there is treasure involved.'

If you're travelling to the Blight Mountains at any point, I have heard there is a local saint in the village of Thurmunton whose blessing can empower any dwarf, or a human if he has received training in the arts of war for their own sake.

The blessing would be good enough, but as a fellow worshipper of Vergadain, I must tell you a wealth of treasure lies in the saint's tomb. Vergadain loves a successful thieving my boy.

OOC: "received training in the arts of war for their own sake" is in-game speak for the Fighter class.

Digital Solitude

Fourier wrote: »

In front of the temple of Kastra

"Why I am chief martyr of tears to Kastra's main temple here in Soetrard. Nothing compared to her temples in my homeland, but still. I of course have no name..." he seems to take great pride in this "...I removed even that basic possession from my person."

He pauses.

"I wonder who is the greater god or who amongst us has the greater faith. Neither of us are mere priests, but Clerics, members of the faith militant for our religions. Would you care for a quick friendly contest in arms?"

He puts a hand gently on a mace strapped to his side.

*I look at his weapon and take note of his apparel*

OOC: I'd ask the DM what he's wearing here but I'm not sure how

Lord TSC

Fourier wrote: »

In Fustak's Ironwares:
The shop is filled with various iron sculptures and tableware. A rough looking dwarf cops Alexander.

"Fustak, that lad is here"

Fustak himself hobbles down the spiral staircase into the ground floor of the shop.

"Galmek this is a Fluthar, the family of the highest quality iron" he moves into the back of the shop

Galmek turns back "Aye, your iron is respected even in our mountains"

Fustak calls out all of a sudden "Here my boy, this can be yours for only 30GP", he gestures to a suit of Scale mail worn by a dummy.

"Or if you're looking for safety, how about this for 15GP", this time he points to an iron padlock with a key.

Alexander: ah, I'm afraid as a magic user, my skills with armour are somewhat . . . Lacking. Thought the padlock intrigues me. Is there something special about it? Is it enchanted? Made from rare and delicate materials? Is the protection magical in nature to warrant its price tag?

Fourier

In front of the temple of Kastra

Digital Solitude wrote: »

May I ask your own name and creed, as I have given mine?"

"Why I am chief martyr of tears to Kastra's main temple here in Soetrard. Nothing compared to her temples in my homeland, but still. I of course have no name..." he seems to take great pride in this "...I removed even that basic possession from my person."

He pauses.

"I wonder who is the greater god or who amongst us has the greater faith. Neither of us are mere priests, but Clerics, members of the faith militant for our religions. Would you care for a quick friendly contest in arms?"

He puts a hand gently on a mace strapped to his side.

Fourier

In Fustak's Ironwares:
The shop is filled with various iron sculptures and tableware. A rough looking dwarf cops Alexander.

"Fustak, that lad is here"

Fustak himself hobbles down the spiral staircase into the ground floor of the shop.

"Galmek this is a Fluthar, the family of the highest quality iron" he moves into the back of the shop

Galmek turns back "Aye, your iron is respected even in our mountains"

Fustak calls out all of a sudden "Here my boy, this can be yours for only 30GP", he gestures to a suit of Scale mail worn by a dummy.

"Or if you're looking for safety, how about this for 15GP", this time he points to an iron padlock with a key.

Digital Solitude

Fourier wrote: »

Near the beggers in front of the temple of Kastra, poverty god of the desert lands of Zassan.

A Cleric of Kastra approaches Moy.

"Generous indeed....I can tell you are not of our faith where poverty and its intrinsic suffering are valued and alms are an insult...."

The beggers don't seem to agree with him

"...what manner of god do you serve? To whose cult to you claim membership?"

"Greetings, I am Moy, a brother of the Lord Nír. Our god is plesant and just, he rewards altruism, activism and unbending loyalty. Those who go forth and do good and just things in the name of Nír will recieve his holy blessing.

These men and women were hungry and malnourished, venerating that fact does not help anyone, so I fed them what I could, and we are all the better for it.

May I ask your own name and creed, as I have given mine?"

Necro

Bandylegs turns and acknowledges the old-timer.

'Aye, Mountain man myself. Son of Brandywine McGillicuddy, prison guard in Dwacatra. I came seeking fortune and fame, and to spread the love of Vergadain to all who will seek it.

You have a shop you say? I seem to have become part of a troupe of some sorts. We are to meet in some Weaponoporium place run by a blasted Elf. I have no love for their kind, yet I find myself travelling with one.
And a... magic-user. I would acknowledge our custom to spit on mention of that foul practice but I will not sully Vergadain's floors with such disrespect.

We are due to meet with a cleric who has use for our services - Pah! I'd sooner follow my own path.

Have you heard of any rumours of quests? My crew likely will not care who they get the information from, as long as there is treasure involved.'

Lord TSC

Alexander: Thats brilliant. I guess I'll check out Fustak's Ironwares first.

Alexander follows the guards directions, passing by a small handful of temples. He ignores them, as he is not particularly a man of religion. He spots the entrance to the Ironwares shop, and makes his way inside. He takes a big breath in and starts scanning the shop for the old man from the bar earlier.

Alexander: Hello? Its Alexander, from the bar? Vincent Fluthar's kid? Typically, I'm not one to be so bold, but my friends and I have been offered a job that needs us to be, well, better equipped than we currently are, and you mentioned a discount in the bar? I figured it was worth coming here, and seeing what was on offer, and to see if myself and my friends could use your stores to prepare ourselves?

Fourier

Near the beggers in front of the temple of Kastra, poverty god of the desert lands of Zassan.

Digital Solitude wrote: »

*Moy toddles off handing out food to beggars nearby. I hand out all of my fresh food*

"hmm, where are the rest of them? Need to stop going off alone"

A Cleric of Kastra approaches Moy.

"Generous indeed....I can tell you are not of our faith where poverty and its intrinsic suffering are valued and alms are an insult...."

The beggers don't seem to agree with him

"...what manner of god do you serve? To whose cult to you claim membership?"

Fourier

At Vergadain's temple:

An elderly dwarf with a triple woven red beard lays a steady hand on Bandylegs's shoulder.

"Not often I meet a Hurndor far from our own burrows. Soetrard is home to far too many of these neutered neutral human gods who 'don't meddle in the affairs of mortals'" he says the final piece affecting an educated Soetrardian accent.

"She's not a temple Vergadain would be proud of, but I hope my own trading business is. Buntharm is my name, what sort of burrow are you from, Mountain or Hill?"

Fourier

At the center of the temple district:

Castius turns to Alexander.

"Fustak's Ironwares are just a small way off temple district, follow the small lane beside the temple of the gods of Corsp and continue for a quarter mile."

"For magic you'd be looking there, as only your lot can."
His finger points to an oak tree between two large gold temples, one to a bull god and the other to some sort of octopus, it's about half a mile away. A small door is visible in the tree, but the shimmer on it makes it clear that the door is not visible or traversable to those without magic.

"I can't see what I'm talking about, but you can I'm sure. It's owned by a genuine Wizard"

OOC: Sorcerer is in-game speak for a Level 9 or above Magic User, Wizard for Level 11 or above.

The Soup King

On the way to Donnie's arry stops to buy 6 preseved meals from a stall selling dry fish and meat.
After entering Donnie's he pulls a stool up to the counter in order to speak to the shopkeeper face to face.

"good day sir I would like.. Let me see ah yes that dagger looks a good size and yes I think those darts would suit me well... 10 should be sufficient I think. That studded armor
also please. Ah and that backpack looks like it will fit me oh good you also sell survival items. I will take a winter blanket, a flask and some flint and steal. "

Arry packs the items into his backpack apart from the darts and dagger. This is the dagger is attached to his belt and the darts come on bandolier witch he straps across his chest.

Arry leaves the shop only to return a moment later with a large pouch of pipe weed.

"i had some change and couldn't resist picking up some Halfling Heather I spotted on the way here. Would anyone care for a pipe full?"

Banjo

*En route to Donnie the discount elf, Mauler passes an effigy of Suja outside a temple that's barely more than a lean-to. He stops, his eyes glazing over for a minute. His reverie is disturbed by two exiting worshipers. He lowers his head and moves on but can tell from the muted giggles behind him that he did so too slowly. He wasn't one for praying to statues anyway, especially such poor facsimiles - they had gotten the hair and the eyes all wrong.

*He catches up to the others in Donnie's, running his hand over a shelf of leather-scabbarded swords and muttering *

"short bit handle, big big blade. Short bit handle, big bit blade"

*He picks one up, swinging it to and fro as if conducting a drunken orchestra with a heavy club. *

"This is very pretty n' all, but I'll be needing one that's shiny and sharp and metal, like the guards have."

*He eyes the price tag. 10 gold pieces! He barely scraped together 3 in the whole fallow year. This was madness. If that dwarf fights like he sings... But what's the worst that could happen? Come home, broke and broken, and face another 3 wanesuns pulling through the Yeomaster's field?*

Digital Solitude

"Well. tis a loud and boisterous area anyways, I didn't have much luck finding quiet with the worship and sale of false gods all around."

*ducks into Donnies*

"I have recieved some direction from my lord, and am forbidden from cutting flesh with a blade. But I need to be able to defend myself too, I think I will take this staff. This sling may come in handy, I pray one of the others may train me in it's use, Ekbard or Mauler mayhaps will know of its design.

*blesses staff, sprinkles holy water onto the staff and sling and then removes a small, tightly woven ring from his pocket, and slips it onto the middle finger of his left hand. I remove the chain from round my neck and tie it around the staff.*

*ducks out of Donnies*

"A backback and blanket will no doubt come in handy, my water won't be enough to sustain me, I'll need to buy a bladder. Maybe some rope too."

*ducks in and out of several shops*

"Now then, I think I have all I need, this food looks better than Brother Amon's cooking too! I still have some gold, so I'm going to purchase some fresh food, I saw some hungry nearby"

*walks out of bakery, arms full of loaves off all shapes and size, a small trail of pumpkin and poppy seeds trailing behind. A jolly baker rubs his red hands in glee behind Moy*

*Moy toddles off handing out food to beggars nearby. I hand out all of my fresh food*

"hmm, where are the rest of them? Need to stop going off alone"

sKeith

*Ekbard fills his waterskin from the barrel.*

Necro

As he entered the shrine of Vergadain, Bandylegs surveyed the rundown condition of the shack passing for shelter and shook his head forlornly. He knelt down and began to pray.

'Oh Vergadain, God of Luck and Wealth, please guide me on this quest. I'm surrounded by people I am unsure of.

A cleric worshipping a false idol.
A drunk as all hell brawler.. actually he's not too bad.
I don't know about Plough. Too mysterious.
A...thief? I don't know what to make of her.
Two halflings, some kind of magic user..
And the elf. To be fair he's not the annoying, flowy golden haired kind.. but he's still an elf.

Some crew. Could be interesting, and I'm up for an adventure. Please bestow this group, though they may profess to follow idols or none alike - with your blessing.'

Bandylegs finished his worship and made to leave to join the others.

Digital Solitude

I've never had things of my own before. Or money.

I am going to find somewhere quiet to commune, I hope my Lord will give my path some direction and will give me some ideas on supplies and weaponry.

Bandylegs, leave some of the small swords for me. You're not the only one not fit to swing a longsword

The Soup King

Array let's out a sigh and follows slowly after them. He wanted to trust his new companion he wanted to trust everyone but the world just wasn't like that and he new it.

A woman who was passing smiles at array turns to her friends and says; "oh what a cute little boy all dressed like a man"

For a second array was angry but then he chuckled to himself and ran to catch up with the rest of the group.

Banjo

*releases Arry's shoulder*

"I'm sorry... I.... "

*the apology hangs limply in the air a moment, he turns and follows Elin to the weaponsmith*

Mollyb60

Elin noticed Plough and Arry hanging behind and calls back "hey plough? You coming? Ekbard will get all the good stuff if you tarry."

The Soup King

Banjo wrote: »

Mauler crouches before Arry, placing himself between him and the group as the others begin to disperse. Laying a hand on his shoulder gently but firmly he speaks softly :

"I know we know naught of eachother and I haven't no right to ask. But I need your pouch. I'll never be this close again."

*he applies a little pressure with his hand and reiterates a little more insistently*
"I need that gold. Now."

"Halflings are a trusting folk it is true but my trust doesn't come easily without being earned friend."

"Why should I hand you my gold without an explanation?"