Jun 22, 2016 8:09 pm
OOC:
Hey, all! First post, Im excited. I'm going to leave this beginning scene a bit open ended. There is no huge plot, atm, to force you into. So, I will work in my ideas as we go along. I really want you guys to get established and have at least some reason for being here. If you would like me to edit any of my follow text, just let me know. Sorry for any mistakes or inconsistencies, proof reading isn't my thing lol. I'm just trying to piece all y'all together, make it feel legit.Anyways, lets have fun with this, dont be afraid to roleplay and do whatever the heck you want!
A stout, well dressed dwarf waddles across the prestigious tavern. It was obvious he tried his best not to scuff the fine hard wood floors with his heavy feet. He approaches the young, animated barmaid who was wisping between tables without stop. She never really stopped, never for a nap or even a lunch break. The woman is pretty and friendly, a real people person amongst the rich crowd.
"Aimee, come here for a moment. I must speak with you."
The dwarf primmed his thick freshly cut beard as she comforted some dining guests. She quickly made her way over, smiling with closed lips the whole way.
"Yes, Darg...?"
She waited impatiently for his response.
"Dear, I must be frank, my cousin's tavern is struggling. I'm taking the deed over, Aimee... I'm planning on sending you over to lend a hand. It's one of the inns in Eversprings, you'd like it there."
A shaky, kind tone could be heard in his voice, it's obvious he cares for the girl. He was subtlety firing her from this particular establishment. Dargrin adored the innocent lass and didn't want to leave her with no options in an unsympathetic city like Waterdeep. Though she is great with the customers, there are a few too many expensive mistakes under her belt. Waterdeep is a costly city to operate from.
"I will arrange for a caravan to take you north to Neverwinter, then drop you at Eversprings. You will have a job and warm bed waiting for you on arrival. Caravan will be leaving a half hour after sunrise. Thank you, dear."
His voice choked up with emotions, like he was sending off a puppy into the woods. Aimee is more than capable; her blood runs cold with the Vampiric curse. Though she only let's a certain few know this, she recognized why he was emotional. His request was acceptable, she was ready for a change.
He is up before the break of dawn, gear already carefully packed. Each item had their use and he knew how to use them exactly. Being trained by the funded army of Waterdeep, Gellbran was a seasoned soldier. The tall, human looking half-orc has been training since a young boy. His well-rounded expertise was followed in every platoon he joined in battle. Though, now, he is a sword for hire. A mercenary seeking gold just to survive and take care of his widowed mother.
The half-orc tossed his backpack onto the front seat of the wagon. This caravan is on a schedule, delayed a half hour for some barmaid. Gellbran wasn't particularly worried, however he never leaves a moment to crumble. The horses have been eagerly waiting. A plump, noble looking dwarf greets him briefly with the cargo, signs off then leaves before the sun crawls out. Shortly after, the described barmaid arrives. She says her friendly ‘hello’ and jumps on the wagon, clearly not suffering from early morning depression.
The travel was long and with frequent stops to pick up and trade supplies. The trip would take a tiring total of fifteen days to arrive at Neverwinter. High Road has been quiet in recent years and trade between the cities have been going well, Gelbran did not expect much trouble.
The taproom was filled with countless mercenaries and the like. Many were regulars who would just come for the food, drink and live music. A fairly civil place for an ugly bunch.
A tall tiefling sits quietly at the corner table of The Cuckold Moose Inn. A small plate of food and beverage are the only two things accompany her. Despite being bleach white with deathly red eyes; no one seems to pay any attention to her. The inn was filled with a rough bunch, so she blended in rather well. She made no eye contact with her barmaid, who failed at her job anyways. The tiefling couldn’t help but feel alone, the foul memories of her home state stained her mind. Narfell was not home anymore, which is why she was so far from it now. Her home was on the road as her resident eldritch presence haunted her with its instability.
She looks across the crowded establishment, ignoring the belligerently drunk mercenaries and sees a female bronze dragonborn with fitting scale mail walk in. Maybe her shyness would dissipate talking to another female.
‘Hi, I’m Ebri Shaikoth… you can call me Shai.’ Ermm, don’t over think this. Just make a friend so you’re not alone.
She thought back and forth with herself as the dragonborn continued with her business. A new friend would be needed along the Sword Coast though. These areas are unfamiliar for a foreign tiefling, it’d help get established quicker.
whump!
The dragonborn firmly slams a blood stained cloth on the barkeep’s side countertop, a little lump evident inside. She looks the man in the eyes and opens the cloth to reveal a severed finger, blood barely hardened.
"Get Delrick out here."
Her words were firm and intentions obvious.
"Dammit, Xhava! Get that shit off my counter, Rick isn’t back till later."
The woman picked up the cloth and stashed it in her side pouch. The barkeep pulled out the rag tucked into his belt, wiping down the spot. He seemed a bit squeamish to the blood.
"Fuckin’ gross, ya hear. I’ll let him know you’ve brought another one. You know you can’t keep killing these ‘corrupt’ guards… Dammit, Xhava…"
She didn’t seem to overly care with what he thought of her actions. What she does is for her own purpose, what she believes is the right thing. It was natural for her.
"Whatever, Rehmein, just get me a mug of water for now then."
The slightly annoyed barkeep filled a small glass mug with water from under the counter, then slid it across to her. Rehmein tossed the bloody rag over his shoulder and continued on with his work. The inn was busy, dozens of people filled the pub section. Xhava lifted her drink for a gulp which turned into a chug, she had been tracking down a corrupt guard for the past two days. She doesn’t work with many breaks. The water was refreshing and much needed, maybe an ale wasn’t needed to hit the spot. The dragonborn place the mug down close, quickly noticing a note stuck to the bottom of the glass mug. She quickly opened the note to read, the pocketed it for later.
Valcos sent a note to Moofsalot
"HEY! What the-"
The goliath aggressively stands up from his table, knocking over several of the drinks his legs are too large to properly fit underneath. His bear-like hands cracked the wood of the table as he stood up straight, towering the small man who bumped into him. The large mercenary was know for being a brute and being barbaric at times. He glared intensely at the itty-bitty human in front of him as he cowardly pleaded.
"Nithe, it was an accident... I swear! Th- the dragonborn shoved me. Please."
With one hand, the large goliath picked up the man, looking at the dragonborn at her table now. Skeinkaldr was easily the biggest person in the room. Everyone knew not to mess with him as he was the strongest and not overly kind. The man looked like a toy in his hands, stiff with fear.
"And you are the one who shoved me, Fihn. Don't let it happen again."
Nithe placed him back down on his feet, the entire tavern had stop to watch the show. Having to always prove himself as the toughest, he couldn't let this man get away without a scratch. His large right fist clinched and his face tightened with a fierceness.
"Grraghh!"
The goliath's huge knuckles planted themselves on the upper right eye of Fihn, wiping his head back violently. The small man flew back several feet, already unconscious, and landed on another table. Their drinks spilled, three or four mugs cracking on the pub's floor. Skeinkaldr squeezed his gigantic thighs under the table once again and continued on like nothing had happened. His drink was half full after the commotion, the barbarian would need a refill soon.
The further south he traveled, the more he can see the nature change to more lush green. Living north of Luskan never presented an opportunity to enjoy green rolling hills and full lively forests. He wasn't about to start enjoying them now. In fact, the bright sun casting its rays across the land just reminded him of his hatred for Pelor. The dark armoured and well equipped man looked up to the morning sun with a look of repugnance on his lifeless face, he spoke with a calm, confident tone.
"I am Malethor Adranath, "lament of the god", and I vow to erase your existence from the world."
Malethor has traveled all the way to Neverwinter, he was denied entry for several reasons. The guards of Neverwinter refuse countless people a day, many of which travel the short distance to Eversprings. So, after being denied, he traveled across the worn dirt road to the small village bloated with migrants. There are only a few buildings in town, most of which are inns. The most appealing of the lot was the one with a large moose head bolted to a wooden sign; The Cuckold Moose. The man with a second chance didn't need to sleep or eat, but the busiest establishment would be best to stop for the day. He did need to meditate and gather information for his goal.
The sturdy wooden door swung open with ease to expose the dozens of ugly mugs scarfing down food and drinking ale. A small, unconscious human was being shoved off a table, his head made a thud as it hit the floor. The men gathered their spilled drinks while another walked over to the bar to replace them. Malethor, scanned the rest of the room before fully walking through the entrance. He wondered if they would have a more private room, a twelve bed dorm filled with grunts doesn't have an appealing ring to it.
OOC:
It's the 23rd of Summertide. It is almost Midsummer and the evening sun has begun to set. Most of the people in Eversprings have returned to their lodging for a well cooked meal and drink. Most people here are either mercenaries or other people denied entry to Neverwinter. Xhava (the Dragonborn Cleric), Skeinkaldr Nithe-Tuttugufjall (the Goliath Barbarian), Malethor Adranath (the Human Revenant Anti-Paladin), and Ebri Shaikoth (the tiefling Warlock) are all in The Cuckold Moose inn. The other two, Gellbran (the half-orc Fighter) and Aimee (the Vampire Bard), have just dropped the caravan supplies at the gates of Neverwinter and should arrive in Everspring shortly. Aimee is supposed to meet Rehmein, the barkeep, for lodging and potential job.So, let us begin! You guys have the night to do whatever you want. Let's see where this goes.
