Dec 13, 2017 2:29 pm
Beer or books huh? Ill pass on both. If anybody needs me, ill be right outside getting some air. Let us know if you find anything interesting there.
Game Posts
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Dec 13, 2017 3:51 pm
Stuffing the last bit of food into his mouth, Pageflap counts his money. From the looks of things, he has just barely enough to buy all he needs for the spell. He also gets up from the table and shakes his coin pouch, telling everyone he's going out to buy a few things. Maybe he'll find someone willing to buy a tinderbox, he found he didn't have much use for it throughout his travels.
He gives a wave to Iman outside then heads off towards the market place.
He gives a wave to Iman outside then heads off towards the market place.
Dec 13, 2017 11:58 pm
Barendd heads over to the Everyshady Tavern, descending into the shadow below the giant, ebony hand. He finds the windows are all boarded up, and the front door is locked with a sturdy iron lock. He notes the quality of the structure is fantastic; the hardwood doors themselves are intricately carved with various intertwining scenes; a woodland hunt, miners at work, a battle against goblins. The cedar shingles on the walls are mostly intact, and the stonework foundation looks like it will last a thousand years.
Pageflap finds his way to Grayhorn Outfitters, a big log cabin pumping thick black smoke out the chimney. When he walks in, a bell tinkles and a big grey-haried man nearly falls of his chair behind the desk.
"By the nine hells! Wha.. oh, a customer! Welcome, welcome, Master Kenku! Sorry, haven't gotten on of those in awhile. Gavun Grayhorn, at your service!"
Gavun is a hulking man in his late 50s by the looks of his greying hair. He wears suspenders, bandoliers, and multiple belts all lined with compartments - you've never seen a man with so many pockets on his person. After requesting the components, he responds:
"Ah, a wizard are ya? Much respect to you. Never had much touch for the arcane arts myself, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a spellslinger like yourself. I got just what ya need, just give me a moment."
Gavun disappears into the back and returns promptly with exactly what you asked for, paper wrapped and ready for use. He asks a fair price in return - 10 gp.
Pageflap finds his way to Grayhorn Outfitters, a big log cabin pumping thick black smoke out the chimney. When he walks in, a bell tinkles and a big grey-haried man nearly falls of his chair behind the desk.
"By the nine hells! Wha.. oh, a customer! Welcome, welcome, Master Kenku! Sorry, haven't gotten on of those in awhile. Gavun Grayhorn, at your service!"
Gavun is a hulking man in his late 50s by the looks of his greying hair. He wears suspenders, bandoliers, and multiple belts all lined with compartments - you've never seen a man with so many pockets on his person. After requesting the components, he responds:
"Ah, a wizard are ya? Much respect to you. Never had much touch for the arcane arts myself, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a spellslinger like yourself. I got just what ya need, just give me a moment."
Gavun disappears into the back and returns promptly with exactly what you asked for, paper wrapped and ready for use. He asks a fair price in return - 10 gp.
Dec 14, 2017 12:04 am
Iman stands outside the Inn and breathes in the clean, cool northern air. The morning is peaceful and industrious. You see folk going about their business bringing in the harvest, mending fences, and chatting politely. You see the sherif and her brother up on a nearby hill walking with a third armoured man; they seem to be surveying the northern forest beyond the village through a looking glass. A gaggle of children are playing at war with wooden swords at the base of the hill.
Dec 14, 2017 3:55 am
Pageflap checks the product and sees that it's just the right amount he needs. Having to empty his wallet hurts a bit, but the price is fair as far as he can see. He take the components ad leaves 10 gold coins from his pouch, handing them to Gavun.
While he's here, he pulls the tinderbox out of his backpack and makes a sound of coins jingling in a bag, asking how much he'll be able to get from selling it. Out of curiosity, he decides to ask about the spellslinger who saved him, maybe they live nearby and know more about the magic going-ons in the village. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a spellslinger?"
While he's here, he pulls the tinderbox out of his backpack and makes a sound of coins jingling in a bag, asking how much he'll be able to get from selling it. Out of curiosity, he decides to ask about the spellslinger who saved him, maybe they live nearby and know more about the magic going-ons in the village. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a spellslinger?"
Dec 14, 2017 4:21 am
Barendd looks to his left and right to make sure the coast is clear and tried to nonchalantly take the lockpick kit from his pocket in attempt to enter this beautifully made tavern. He then mutters to no one in particular, Just like old times, with less pressure, this should be easy peasy. He then begins to pick the lock sticking his tongue out to assist his concentration.
OOC:
How should I roll for this?
Dec 14, 2017 4:36 am
OOC:
Dex roll with proficiency, so in Barendd's case, it's 1d20+4 (assuming you're proficient with thieves' tools).
Dec 14, 2017 5:11 am
Aegar rushes out of the Inn searching for Barendd. Dont drink it all without me! Aegar was so worried about missing out on a drink, he completely misjudged how fast he was running over. Digging his heels into the ground, Aegar comes to an abrupt halt just inches from the large wooden doors. Gravel peppers the walls and doors mere millimeters away from where Barendd is positioned as he works on picking lock. Oi, Sorry about that lad. Ive grown quite the thirst since our last drink and it tends to get the best of me. Need any help with that?
Dec 14, 2017 5:26 am
Barendd struggles with the lock. It's a simple design but it has a fair bit of weathering, and it takes time to clear away the rust in order to make the mechanisms turn smoothly. Aegar stumbles into the gravel path just as you pop finally pop open the lock.
Inside is the Evershady Tavern is completely dark with the windows boarded up. Barendd's darkvision kicks in and he sees what was once a grand tap room. One set of stairs lead to a sunken conversation pit by a cold fireplace (one of three), another leads to an L-shaped balcony that overlooks the hall. Solid but dusty tables and chairs are stacked in one corner.
The barkeep's station is a square island in the center of the room. It looks solid, almost defensible, but also the center of attention, almost like the command post of a fabled warship. A massive wooden chandelier is suspended on chains just above the bar. Rows upon rows of pewter and silver mugs are upended on the counter, dry as bones.
There is a door to another room at the back.
Inside is the Evershady Tavern is completely dark with the windows boarded up. Barendd's darkvision kicks in and he sees what was once a grand tap room. One set of stairs lead to a sunken conversation pit by a cold fireplace (one of three), another leads to an L-shaped balcony that overlooks the hall. Solid but dusty tables and chairs are stacked in one corner.
The barkeep's station is a square island in the center of the room. It looks solid, almost defensible, but also the center of attention, almost like the command post of a fabled warship. A massive wooden chandelier is suspended on chains just above the bar. Rows upon rows of pewter and silver mugs are upended on the counter, dry as bones.
There is a door to another room at the back.
Dec 14, 2017 7:38 am
You are just in time.friend, I don't see any casks available let's Snoop around a bit. Maybe check that door.
Barendd checks around the room looking closer at the bar and the pewter mugs, drawing on his years as a tavern owner and his innate proficiency at stone cunning to gather as much information about the place as possible.
Barendd checks around the room looking closer at the bar and the pewter mugs, drawing on his years as a tavern owner and his innate proficiency at stone cunning to gather as much information about the place as possible.
Rolls
Perception for the room as a whole - (1d20+3)
(14) + 3 = 17
Intelligence for stone cunning if applicable - (1d20+2)
(16) + 2 = 18
Dec 14, 2017 8:16 am
A structure with a foundation like that is bound to have a cellar. You find your way into the back room, a spacious kitchen with a backdoor exit. Sure enough, there is a wide stair that winds its way into the cool earth to revel a big stonewalled cellar that is almost entirely empty, save for 2 big dusty kegs in the corner. Barendd notes how the cool, consistent temperature of this space would be ideal for brewing.
Dec 14, 2017 7:46 pm
Seems like the town is a little more at ease since we first arrived here. After noticing the armored man with the Sheriff, Iman curiously walks toward them.
Aye, Sheriff, looking out for anything in particular? I've walked the perimeter of many towns over the years and an armored man is no typical watchman, especially if the Sheriff is involved.
Aye, Sheriff, looking out for anything in particular? I've walked the perimeter of many towns over the years and an armored man is no typical watchman, especially if the Sheriff is involved.
Dec 14, 2017 10:37 pm
BARENDD & AEGAR
You haul the keg to the main floor, leaving a trail of dust as you roll it up the stairs. As the dust comes off you see the side of the barrel is stamped with the word "Gutbuster." Gutbuster is the proud liquor of the Dwarvish people that will get even the strongest dwarf tipsy. It's multipurpose too; need to strip paint off a shield or light a moat on fire? Gutbuster is the answer!
PAGEFLAP
Gavun smiles at the offer of the tinderbox.
"Sorry, but I already have a bunch I can't sell." He opens a draw in a wall-to-wall cabinet full of small drawers and reveals what must be 3 or 4 dozen tinderboxes.
"Business just isn't as great as it used to be, what with the traffic slowing down over the years. But I don't mind; the peace and quiet is its own reward and it gives me more time to enjoy the valley."
In regards to asking about the spellslinger, he responds:
"Oh, that's a sad tale. Used to be an adventurer myself, back in my youth, before the Empire fell. We made a bit of a name for ourselves looting ruins in the north, but we got cocky. Tried for a White Dragon's hoard. I was the only one who survived. Gods, but we were young and stupid."
"Nowadays, I prefer to let others do the adventuring. I know the trade, and I know the gear, and you can guarantee if you buy it from me that you can bet your life on its quality. And while I'm not in the business of buying used gear, special artifacts might be a different story. Magical items are always a good investment, what with the Empire gone and all. I'll be happy to pay you a fair price those."
You haul the keg to the main floor, leaving a trail of dust as you roll it up the stairs. As the dust comes off you see the side of the barrel is stamped with the word "Gutbuster." Gutbuster is the proud liquor of the Dwarvish people that will get even the strongest dwarf tipsy. It's multipurpose too; need to strip paint off a shield or light a moat on fire? Gutbuster is the answer!
OOC:
Anyone who drinks gutbuster is at disadvantage on con saving throws against the poisoning effect of the drink. Dwarvish advantage cancels out the disadvantage, so Dwarves just roll a normal con save.PAGEFLAP
Gavun smiles at the offer of the tinderbox.
"Sorry, but I already have a bunch I can't sell." He opens a draw in a wall-to-wall cabinet full of small drawers and reveals what must be 3 or 4 dozen tinderboxes.
"Business just isn't as great as it used to be, what with the traffic slowing down over the years. But I don't mind; the peace and quiet is its own reward and it gives me more time to enjoy the valley."
In regards to asking about the spellslinger, he responds:
"Oh, that's a sad tale. Used to be an adventurer myself, back in my youth, before the Empire fell. We made a bit of a name for ourselves looting ruins in the north, but we got cocky. Tried for a White Dragon's hoard. I was the only one who survived. Gods, but we were young and stupid."
"Nowadays, I prefer to let others do the adventuring. I know the trade, and I know the gear, and you can guarantee if you buy it from me that you can bet your life on its quality. And while I'm not in the business of buying used gear, special artifacts might be a different story. Magical items are always a good investment, what with the Empire gone and all. I'll be happy to pay you a fair price those."
Dec 15, 2017 12:52 am
Ok fairy man, you said you wanted drink. Tonight we drink like dwarves.
Rolls
Con save for the dwarves ale. - (1d20+5)
(18) + 5 = 23
Dec 15, 2017 3:40 am
Pageflap gives a whistle at seeing the drawer full of tinderboxes, giving thought to how much of a fire hazard it must be but assuming that it's taken care of. He's disappointed he's leaving a store with an empty wallet, but he got what he came for at a fair price so he's not complaining.
The disappointment is further compounded by the knowledge that the Spell Slinger is dead. Pageflap considers asking about any relics that may have been left behind, but remembers he's in a merchant's shop and is poor now. Wouldn't hurt to ask, though.
"Spell Slinger," then "Gear?" followed by both the sound of coin and the thought that it probably could hurt his feelings talking about his dead friend like that. "Sorry," he says, a bit nervous at how he would react.
He expresses a bit of surprise at the news that there is a dragon flying around somewhere. The surprise turns into relief when Gavun tells him that the dragon is further north, which relapses into worry when Pageflap remembers that that was where they were headed. "White Dragon?"
The disappointment is further compounded by the knowledge that the Spell Slinger is dead. Pageflap considers asking about any relics that may have been left behind, but remembers he's in a merchant's shop and is poor now. Wouldn't hurt to ask, though.
"Spell Slinger," then "Gear?" followed by both the sound of coin and the thought that it probably could hurt his feelings talking about his dead friend like that. "Sorry," he says, a bit nervous at how he would react.
He expresses a bit of surprise at the news that there is a dragon flying around somewhere. The surprise turns into relief when Gavun tells him that the dragon is further north, which relapses into worry when Pageflap remembers that that was where they were headed. "White Dragon?"
Dec 15, 2017 4:59 am
Between the creatures below giving him a clue as to the meaning of certain passages in his uncle's grimoire and Pageflap's help in translating those passages, Kit believes he has enough to go on to attempt to contact one of the creatures referenced. He takes advantage of the temporary quiet as his companions pursue their own ends and sits and begins to perform the ritual that will reach into the Feywild. Perhaps attracting the notice of the powerful beings there isn't the wisest of ideas, but the tentacled creatures have shown Kit that he can no longer be a burden in need of protection.
Dec 15, 2017 5:14 pm
IMAN
Iman gains the attention of the people on the hill. You see that the armoured man is actually very elderly, but he wears the plate armour and coat of arms of an Arkasian knight. It looks like it is two sizes too big for him.
They greet you kindly. Sherif Willowmane responds.
"Ah, Iman, welcome. We were just showing good Sir Winter here that the orcs are indeed not storming down from the forest. He awoke from a very vivid dream convinced otherwise."
She pats the old knight on his sturdy helm.
"I always feel safer when I see you suited up, Sir Winter. Thank you for your service."
The old knight beams a proud and noble smile.
"Indeed, young Willowmane. The orcs are lucky they did not show their ugly faces today, or they would have tasted my steel!" He draws his longsword, but can't quite hold it upright. Matthew helps him immediately.
"Easy there, Sir Winter. You wouldn't want to startle the children with your fearsome battle visage! I'll help you get back to your house. Lady Winter must be wondering where you've gotten to!"
Sherif Willowmane turns to you as her brother helps the old knight down the hill.
"Truly, word has spread fast that heroes are in town. I haven't seen Whitesparrow so hustling and bustling for months. How was everyone's sleep last night?"
Iman gains the attention of the people on the hill. You see that the armoured man is actually very elderly, but he wears the plate armour and coat of arms of an Arkasian knight. It looks like it is two sizes too big for him.
They greet you kindly. Sherif Willowmane responds.
"Ah, Iman, welcome. We were just showing good Sir Winter here that the orcs are indeed not storming down from the forest. He awoke from a very vivid dream convinced otherwise."
She pats the old knight on his sturdy helm.
"I always feel safer when I see you suited up, Sir Winter. Thank you for your service."
The old knight beams a proud and noble smile.
"Indeed, young Willowmane. The orcs are lucky they did not show their ugly faces today, or they would have tasted my steel!" He draws his longsword, but can't quite hold it upright. Matthew helps him immediately.
"Easy there, Sir Winter. You wouldn't want to startle the children with your fearsome battle visage! I'll help you get back to your house. Lady Winter must be wondering where you've gotten to!"
Sherif Willowmane turns to you as her brother helps the old knight down the hill.
"Truly, word has spread fast that heroes are in town. I haven't seen Whitesparrow so hustling and bustling for months. How was everyone's sleep last night?"
Dec 15, 2017 5:31 pm
KIT
Kit studies the book intently, in quiet. He finds one particular drawing that always fascinated him; an intricate recursive pattern that makes you go cross-eyed if you try to follow it - not chaotic in nature, but definitely supernatural. This time, you force your mind to follow it, pursuing it beyond the constraints of logic. As you do so, the pattern begins to animate, the ink writhing like vines and growing to encompass the other pages, and then the table itself.
The black ink becomes green and an entire plant begins to sprout from the book, glowing with verdant energy. The plant grows thick and strong, but bifurcates in the middle only to rejoin itself again at the top. Once it completes, the teardrop shape in the center of the plant flickers, and suddenly the room is bathed with golden sunlight that pours through the teardrop window. Beyond, you see a majestic forest that is more alive than anything you've ever seen.
Kit studies the book intently, in quiet. He finds one particular drawing that always fascinated him; an intricate recursive pattern that makes you go cross-eyed if you try to follow it - not chaotic in nature, but definitely supernatural. This time, you force your mind to follow it, pursuing it beyond the constraints of logic. As you do so, the pattern begins to animate, the ink writhing like vines and growing to encompass the other pages, and then the table itself.
The black ink becomes green and an entire plant begins to sprout from the book, glowing with verdant energy. The plant grows thick and strong, but bifurcates in the middle only to rejoin itself again at the top. Once it completes, the teardrop shape in the center of the plant flickers, and suddenly the room is bathed with golden sunlight that pours through the teardrop window. Beyond, you see a majestic forest that is more alive than anything you've ever seen.
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