Don't like the snow? You can make a bookmark with the following text instead of a url: javascript:snowStorm.toggleSnow(). Clicking it will toggle the snow on and off.
Our new Indie Games subforum is now open for business in G&T. Go and check it out, you might land a code for a free game. If you're developing an indie game and want to post about it, follow these directions. If you don't, he'll break your legs! Hahaha! Seriously though.
Our rules have been updated and given their own forum. Go and look at them! They are nice, and there may be new ones that you didn't know about! Hooray for rules! Hooray for The System! Hooray for Conforming!

Age of Ascension IC: Shut up, your baby is dumb

lodwilklodwilk Registered User
edited September 2011 in Critical Failures
For one reason or another each of you has found their way to the docks of Malien. You are bombarded with the sounds of merchants selling their wares from their stalls, or from the crews of ships trying to sell their onboard cargo. This dockside market does lack one thing that is very common with other such markets; it is by far the most organized market you’ve ever seen. The stalls are all in perfect rows with enough room beside each one for their proprietors to be able to come out with ease, and the walkway between the stalls are wide enough to allow two carts to head down side by side without any trouble. Somewhere on each stall is a piece of paper is displayed covered in writing and bearing several official looking stamps and seals. Occasionally a city guard will go up to a stall, inspect the paper and once satisfied head on their way.

The docks themselves are just as organized, with the majority of any heavy work being handled by the multitude of warforged seen working along the dock. Each of these warforged wears a black vest with red trim and a sigil of castle before a large golden disc on the back. The sigil is the symbol of Malien and though the golden disc is supposed to be the sun, many believe a golden coin is more fitting for the city.

Outside of one building is a large group of people, all of them either wearing armor and carrying weapons, or robes and carrying staves. A sign on the building bears a claims the building to be the "Adventurers Guild of Galemen", with a smaller sign beneath saying "Accepting new recruits."

Rhogar and Hohenvar
Spoiler:


lodwilk on
DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
«13

Posts

  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    "BWAHBWAHBWAHBWAH!" a loud voice proclaimed, causing several heads to turn around near the entrance of the Adventurer's guild. A halfling was walking along towards them carrying a staff in one hand, and a miniature child was toddling along beside her unsteadily holding the other hand.

    Regarding the building, she turned to look up at someone at random beside her and flashed a radiant smile, saying "Adventurer's guild, eh? That sounds absolutely perfect!! Are you joining up too?" The baby meanwhile sat down on the cobblestones with a plunk sound and began to investigate a fair sized rock, putting it into his mouth and gnawing on it with what seemed to be only a couple of teeth.

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    Cognast raises an eyebrow at the halfling and her child as she seems to consider the Adventurer's Guild. "Perfect? Few things are truly perfect. But if there's knowledge to be gained or a skill to be learned, it's a worthy venture." The toddler takes a keen interest in Cognast's armored boot, briefly running its fingers over the hardened hide. He resists the urge to shoo it away with his foot. A mother seeking adventure was exactly the sort of oddity he came to Malien to understand. "If it's not too rude...are you sure a person with a child is best-suited to an adventure?" He hunkers down in front of the kid and forces an exaggerated smile and adds a jovial, encouraging tone to his voice. "Though a mightier warrior I'm sure there's never been!"

    He turns back to the halfling, now at eye-level, and extends his armored gauntlet. "Sir Cognast, Hospitaler of Ioun," he says, tapping his temple with his middle, ring, and pinky fingers of his other hand in the salute of his Order. He notices a brilliantly scaled dragonborn milling around the edge of the small crowd who seems to be evaluating them, but tries to put it out of his mind.
    Spoiler:

    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Cassandra laughs and says:"Oh, Frankie here will be just fine. He's...special, and won't be any trouble." she looks down at the child with a cocked eyebrow, motioning Cognast to look down. Frankie had chewed through the center of the fair-sized rock, and seemed to be enjoying grinding up the remains thoroughly.

    "I'm Cassandra, by the way. It's lovely to meet you!". Kneeling over, she took the remaining half of the rock out of the child's hands and tossed it aside, conjuring a blob of ...something....out of thin air and handing it to him. The blob made a gloop noise as the toddler turned it over in his hands, and he laughed contentedly, seemlingly absorbed for the moment.

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    Cognast laughs aloud along with the kid, absorbed by the casual display of power. "Now, that's something special, all right! He doesn't eat armor, does he? It's just that the Quartermaster would be ever so sour." He tosses a wink at Cassandra and flops to the ground, retrieving his bizarre instrument from his back and plucking idly at the lowest and highest registers, fiddling about with a style of music the he knew his father hated, calling it a "chorus of chaos." Cognast liked the asymmetry and melancholy of the jazzy sound, for his part, and thought that these two odd halflings might share his appreciation of it. He begins to hum a bit, drawing the eyes of the milling, hopeful adventurers, and speaks in a kind of ordered rhythm that adds another layer of contrast to the harp-guitar's twanging.

    "My father - he was a bard, you know, a talker / Used to say: lad, I feel ye gotta get the music in you / a'fore your dear ol' da's got need of a walker. / Said: da', you know I can get the strummin', pluckin' and tumblin' / but for the birds is this old-guard sense o' structure."

    He wails briefly on the twelve high strings and slaps his way through an arpeggio in the mid range before dropping back from the chaos into a more ordered song, popping up to his feet and walking around the gathered audience, slipping handily into a popular medley he'd heard in a taproom or two in Melian: 'Cut the Purse, Spare the Stranger,' prompting the gathered lot to sing along at the chorus.
    Spoiler:

    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • lodwilklodwilk Registered User
    edited September 2011
    As Cognast puts on a little show for the halfling woman and her child he can't help but notice that the other so called adventurers gathered outside are giving them rather disdainful looks. All of them seem to be young, rich kids and they clearly do not approve of a single mother, or of Cognast more combat experienced armor. The ones dressed like the mages from epic tales opened their eyes in shock at Cassandra's casual display of magic and sidestepped away from the sorceress and her rock eating child.

    His attempt to get the crowd to join in on his signing was in vain, although he did notice a few nodding their heads to his music, any attempts to join the singing were hushed up by what appeared the leader of the group, an eladrin carrying a spear that was clearly more decorative than practical for combat.

    While performing his song, Cognast remembered a discussion he had with the city guards when he entered arrived in the city. Upon seeing his musical instrument, they tried to sell him a permit to be able to perform in public locations, otherwise he would not be able to accept any money or gifts when performing in public.

    lodwilk on
    DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
    Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    "Hm." Cognast says, noting the eladrin, and his fingers hit a handful of sour notes. He pulls up short of the chorus and cracks a rather sour chord, failing to hide his grimace. It would have been a deliciously petulant way to cut his little performance short, if he'd meant to do it. "Guess they don't like music around here," he mumbles to Cassandra, and seems to make a mental note of it.

    He slings the instrument with some difficulty and glances around at the assembled lot. No tabards are recognizable. Colors are often garish for the sigils he sees on display, and he wonders, idly, if any of this fine silk has seen the open road. He eyes the eladrin warily, and lets a note of disdain slip into his voice. "Well, like I said, my father's the bard. Sometimes the fingers work. Sometimes they don't."
    Spoiler:

    srboyceboat on
    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    Frankie dropped the blob onto the cobblestones and clapped his hands together, laughing happily.

    Cassandra looked briefly concerned as she quickly swept up the blob, which seemed to be glowing an unhealthy shade of purple and pulsing ominously since it had been dropped. Holding the blob up between her hands and forcing them together, the blob disappeared with a loud POP.

    Rubbing her hands together, she looked back up at Cognast. "I think it was excellent, sir! And Frankie liked it too, which is the most important thing as far as I'm concerned."

    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    Hohenvar peers around with his usual steely demeanour. Although glad to be on dry land once again, where his roots and mindset remained grounded, he was already missing the fresh air aquatic travel provided him. However now the sight of inexperienced youths, all-too-eager rich folk and overly boisterous show offs gave him even more reason to be back on a boat once more. His attention is caught though by a man who had previously written off as all of the aforementioned categories. The rhythm and medley drew him closer in curiosity. The man was good. Okay, not great, but good.

    Unfortunately the pleasant tune stops and Hohenvar notices a glance at a more-than-perturbed Eladrin. Already feeling slightly uneasy around him and his cadre, the Barbarian can't help but move slightly closer to see if he can notice anything about the spear-toting adventurer.
    Spoiler:

    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • The Muffin ManThe Muffin Man Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Spoiler:

    The Muffin Man on
    shamanhealingwave.jpgabilitypaladinshieldofv.png
  • The Muffin ManThe Muffin Man Registered User regular
    Spoiler:

    Rhogar clutched his spear, hoping he didn't stand out too much. A dragonborn in ceremonial skin with an ornate spear, covered in Eladrin runes...none of which he understood, mind you. If anything, he was worried he was too plain to stand out, and thus would be the target of animosity. He was half right, of course.
    "Watch it, lizard." a rude young human snapped as he nearly bumped into him.
    "My apologies. I was simply..."
    The human rolled his eyes, already not listening. Rhogar grumbled to himself "Off to a fantastic stark, Rho."
    With a deft eye, he looked around at the group that had gathered. Two (or rather, two and a half) people stood out. If nothing else, they didn't seem to be children playing adventurer. He puffed up his chest and approached.
    "Good afternoon, my name is Rhogar..." he bit his tongue. In his tribe, he was assigned the name Ill-Omen. It seemed less fitting as a follower of the Druidic arts. "Rhogar...Rootshaper." He smiled, quite proud of his new name.

    shamanhealingwave.jpgabilitypaladinshieldofv.png
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    "Adventurers' Guild of Galemen," Brinna repeats quietly under her breath, slowly sounding out the words as she cranes her head to look up at the sign. It's not where she thought she'd end up, but it seems to be her best bet right now. The person she came to Malien to speak to, one Sindren Falsehand, is nowhere to be found, despite her having looked for them for several days straight. She's far from discouraged yet, but she feels the need to change things up a little all the same. Perhaps, Brinna mused, she needs to make Falsehand come to her somehow; and if they're at all associated with the Path, some successful "adventuring" – inwardly, she smirks at this with vague disdain – might just be the thing to call their attention to her.

    Idly patting the cudgel tucked beneath her sash, the barefoot halfling looks around, studying the crowd. It's hard to miss the other halfling woman, if only because of her magic and her strange child – she can't possibly be here to join or work for the guild, kid and all, can she? That would be ridiculous. Of course, glancing at the overly smartly dressed adolescents gathered around, all of whom look like they haven't done a day of actual, honest work in their entire lives, Brinna concludes that the sorceress really is no more out of place here than they are – talkers not doers these, with plenty of gold in their purses yet not a shred of sense between them. The other halfling she can't be sure about just yet, but it's clear to her that these fops at least are not worth her time, nor indeed the guild's time, she'd guess.

    There's the musically inclined half-elf too, Brinna notices. She's not a huge music lover – listening to it really is as far as her interest goes –, but he seems to be doing a decent enough job as far as she can tell, and briefly the halfling even finds herself nodding along. Soon, though, he cuts short his performance, no doubt on account of that eladrin, perhaps the chief swaggerer of the lot with his fancy but impractical spear; in addition to possessing more money than wits, though, he also seems to have an attitude, and that is enough to make the halfling wary of him – in her experience, adolescents aren't usually much trouble unless they have a particularly cocky leader to stir up said trouble, and she's aware that she is very much an outsider in this city, a stranger in simple clothes who is, to boot, a good deal shorter than most everyone else here.

    Deciding not to dwell overmuch on it however, the diminutive monk continues to scan the crowd until she lays eyes on the wilden. This one intrigues her: Brinna has not met any of this fey people yet, but what she has heard about them strikes her as favourable – what the lofty-minded call uncultured when speaking of wilden, she takes to mean down to earth; what they deem discourteous, she interprets as forthrightness and honesty, all of which are traits she finds readily endearing –, and so she quietly walks up to what she fairly randomly guesses must be 'him', closer to the disagreeable eladrin though this takes her, until Brinna stands casually beside the wilden.

    "Colourful crowd," she remarks just as casually with a glance up at the fey. It's not much of a thing to say, but then the halfling rarely is one to start a conversation; she simply finds herself hoping that the wilden won't fail to note her ever so slightly disapproving tone – and that, if he does, he actually happens to share the sentiment.

  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    With a squeal of delight, Frankie teetered onto his feet and ran unsteadily over to the Dragonborn, wrapping his arms around one of the Dragonborn's massive legs. "MMMMMMMMM" he said, looking back at his mother with a gummy grin.

    Cassandra didn't move to stop him, but did look a tiny bit surprised at the child's choice as he greeted the stranger. Shrugging her shoulders slightly, she curtsied to the massive druid and addressed him with a winsome smile:"Well met good sir. I'm Cassandra, and the child who is wrapped around your leg is Frankie. We're very pleased to meet you, it seems!"

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    Hohenvar notices the halfling after a quick scan over the crowds once more. Though she is shorter than most, his less-than-statuesque height allows him to acknowledge her more easily. Fromt he briefest of looks she appears strong, not necessarily intimidating or scary, but tough enough to put any regular man in his place. The barbarian has always respected halflings for their practicality and modesty. Already Hohenvar can tell this one would not buck this well-documented trend.

    "A little too colourful, for my liking," he responds. Despite his even, some would call neutral or even monotone, pace in his speech, enough of a hint resembling sarcasm and dismissal emphasises his feelings. "Frankly I feel this has almost become a circus of sorts."

    Although nothing suspicious at all leaps out at him, Hohenvar stands by his sentiment. Not even is he annoyed by the attitude or disparity in the surrounding amateurs. A small but resounding part of him feels like the witnessed foolhardiness could really land innocent do-gooders or cocky youths into proper trouble.

    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    Brinna gives a small grunt of agreement. "And not the good kind." Briefly crossing her arms, a better use of her time seems to occur to the halfling as she then proceeds to start methodically stretching her shoulders. "Here to join, too?" she idly asks the wilden, already running out of things to say – not that she's expecting a conversation with a perfect stranger to really go places, anyway.

  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    With a sour glance back at the eladrin, Cognast fumbles his way through the crowd, noting the crew of much more hardy and stalwart figures that Cassandra had moved to greet. Again, not the sorts you see in Malien, not thieves with polite smiles. The group looked all roughly equally out of sorts - perhaps even a little disdainful.

    When he spots the second halfling, he reasons a guess as to why Cassandra might have moved to greet them, but notes their builds are very different and they don't have much of a family resemblance. It's difficult to tell with the friendly folk, so he opts not to bring it up. What he did notice was the power in this new halfling - it was in her stance, in the set of her jaw, and the calluses lining her knuckles, feet, and even elbows, not to mention more than one scar. Something about the posture made him take a guess, wrack his brain for the proper greeting, and throw caution to the wind as he moves within earshot.

    "Well, I'm only one trouper's son. Not much of a circus, I'm afraid." He flashes a half smile and runs fingers back through his hair. With a glance up and down at the halfling, he nods curtly and extends his fist - his least favorite part of the ritual - toward the halfling as if it were an avil for her to strike. "Struggles soon and many, Walker of the Path. Hopefully I haven't coc-- messed that up too much." He grimaces, remembering Frankie flopping about at their feet. "It's rare to come across one of Those Who Walk, these day. The last Walker I met was more than seven years ago, at my Order's barracks." He nods congenially to the dragonborn, offering a half-bow, and says, in somewhat stilted draconic, "And finest hunt, to you, master dragonborn. In service to Valde Bellum, it is my order and my honor to welcome you to Galeman."

    Lastly, and, possibly somewhat deliberately, he turns to the fey creature. He can only guess it's fey, at any rate. It would have to be, whatever it is. "Last, but not least, hello to you as well, sir. Madam." He coughs, a little confused at his own ineptitude. Ousaniel would have knocked him upside the head for that. "My apologies. I have to admit some embarrassment, gentlebeing. I don't know your kind well enough to not be rude. In any case..."

    He salutes again, standing much straighter this time and making sure his order's tabard is visible on his chest. "I am Sir Cognast re'Iouni, Knight Hospitalier of the Bellum-Ioun. And he..." he jerks his head back at the eladrin adolescent, who he is quite sure is staring daggers at him. "Is my least biggest fan. Also he hates fun and I presume children. And he's got the rest of the moronic sheep convinced that the adventurers in the stories hated fun and children and candy and survived by the hems of their frilly designer robes."

    This last part he says quite loudly, turning to smile balefully at the eladrin.
    Spoiler:

    srboyceboat on
    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    "Sea-fairing doesn't pay as well as it used to," Hohenvar says, turning away from the halfling, a slight bristling of his leaves indicating something akin to a shrug. "Let's just say I'm more hopeful of inland ventures now."

    A finely tuned voice grabs the Wilden's attention suddenly, and he recognises its owner as the singer from before. An eyebrow of a branch is raised at the title of "madam", but Hohenvar lets it slide. He understands the confusion his race creates, and though like anything else it can be a nuisance, for now it barely phases him at all. The slight at the eladrin does earn a stiff snort from him, the sound resembling long grass being trodden upon. It's enough to make the usually no-nonsense figure of foliage appreciate some wit and good nature, that of people instead of arboreal, around him for once. Figuring he is among good company, Hohenvar reaches out with a gnarled but sinewy arm, giving the Knight a firm pat on the shoulder.

    "Hohenvar," is his curt greeting, accompanied by an equally crisp nod. "Known as the Rook on most vessels. Hohen on others."

    A twisted, scar of a grin cracks open at the Eladrin from the Wilden.

    "You've got quite the eye when it comes to strangers."

    Taking a furtive look around, Hohenvar immediately turns his head and cracks his jaw, twigs cracking the only sign of this act. He wasn't used to that sort of facial expression just yet.

    Gatsby on
    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • lodwilklodwilk Registered User
    The eladrin looks clearly disturbed at Cognasts at the others comments, he clearly wasn't used to being mocked let alone out in public like this. He seemed to do nothing for now, other then grip his ornate spear even tighter and stare daggers at armored knight. Each of you assume if you were just regular city folk he'd cause some trouble with you, but since you all seem rather capable he seems rather unsure of what to do. The others in the group seem to be either amused by Cognasts comments, or are rather annoyed with him but are too afraid to do anything, most of them seem to keep glancing at the Eladrin for an idea of what to do.

    The door that leads into the adventurers guild opens up, and a very well dressed dwarf with several scars across his arms comes out and attempts to light a pipe. He gives a quick look of annoyance at the youth around him when his eyes fall upon the odd group, eyes wide he gives up on the pipe and walks over to the group of you.

    "Do my eyes deceive me? You look all look like your actually capable and somewhat competent." He gives a quick disdainfull look at the group of youths and add, "Which means our probably not from around here."

    Turning back to the group of you he finally notices Frankie who is still clutched to Rhogars leg. He gives the small dragonborn a confused look before continuing, "You folks wouldn't happen to be looking for work would you?"

    DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
    Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    Cassandra scoffed. "If we were looking for work, we'd be outside the labourer's guild. We want Adventure! We want to slay dragons! (no offense meant to present company, of course). We want to vanquish evil! And if you're looking to paying us, that'd be good too! she grinned slyly at the last part.

    Franky made a "mmph" noise at her mother, and pointed all around.

    And of course we are looking to explore the world. Thank you Frankie." she amended, looking fondly at the child, who seemed to enjoy holding onto the dragonborn's leg.

    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    Cognast relaxes as he realizes he hasn't offended the fey being overmuch. Attempting to reconcile his faux pas, he nods as Hohenvar introduces himself. "Rook? That seems rather fitting. In common, the word dervices from old draconic: rocca, meaning 'fortress,' and you have a look like it might take a siege engine or two to stop you, yourself, so Rook it shall be." Cognast hopes he didn't muss up the language too badly. Linguistics was one of his weakest areas of study in the monastery.

    As the dwarf approaches them and Frankie toddles about at his mother's enthusiasm, Cognast, can't help but smile at the lad. The child appeared to be incredibly perceptive for his age, so the Knight makes a mental note to be even more cautious of what he says in the boy's presence, lest he absorb some poor manners.

    To the dwarf, he nods his head. "Looking for work by a manner of speaking, yes. If you've need of any skilled assistance, I'd be honored to aid you. A Knight of the Bellum-Ioun must do what he can." He smiles, looking to the group. "Of course, my Master often said wisdom always welcomes company." He shakes hands with the dwarf. Ousaniel insisted he be very proper with everyone he meet, but Cognast's elbow and brain were tiring for all the courteous introductions of the day. "Sir Cognat of the Bellum-Ioun. I wasn't aware that institutions like this still operated with success. Judging from your tone about the other..." he glances sideways at the befuddled and embarrassed eladrin, "...interested parties, I can't imagine you get a lot of actual 'adventurers.' That said, how can I - and, I presume, my colleagues here, if I may be so bold - be of assistance?"

    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    "Good eye," Brinna affirms with the hint of a smile after regarding the half-elf in mild astonishment. Then, looking vaguely bemused, she touches her fist to his proffered one – not exactly a punch, merely the equivalent of a slightly too firm handshake. She isn't much of one for such rituals, and neither was her mentor; in fact, he made the halfling aware of this greeting among Walkers only in passing, clearly not having considered it an especially integral part of the Path. "I reckon that's how it's supposed to go," she continues, shrugging indifferently. "Mostly just bells and whistles to me. Who was that other Walker? Never met one other than my teacher." There's a note of real curiosity in her voice now, though just by looking at her one would hardly be able to tell.

    When the dwarf arrives she turns to face him, greeting him by way of a curt nod. "Brinna Coastwell," she introduces herself simply, idly popping her knuckles. "I'm looking for something to do." She thinks little of adventuring as an occupation, yet at the same time the halfling doesn't consider it work either – she needs obstacles to overcome, to prove herself and work on her abilities, but actually saying that out loud would make her look foolish, Brinna believes, so she doesn't.
    Spoiler:

  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    Hohenvar cranes his head over at the dwarf and then returns to peering around the gathered crowd, his shimmering eyes and arms crossed saying more than most. A rough claw of a hand is run through his "hair", brushing aside dead leaves and vines that have gathered there before he fully turns back to face his new would-be employer. Although he has worked alone for his entire life he understands the importance of strength in numbers. And the pay is always better when working as part of a group than going solo. However changes like these would still need some adjustment, something he was willing to give in to in time.

    Throughout this entire event Hohenvar's words have been weighed down by the few coins in his pouch. Deep down unless the job involved mass murder and corruption, he would accept anything at this moment. He didn't want to admit it, but he was growing accustomed to having some spare coin for any situation. That and his reservations about Malien and its guard were creeping to the surface again. No matter where he was or what he did staying in one place for too long never settled right with the barbarian's nature. Movement was needed, the quicker the better.

    "Frankly it seems we're your best shot," he quips, his voice followed by a creaking not unlike that of a swaying oak. "As long as the pay is right and the job is for something good, I'm all for it."

    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • The Muffin ManThe Muffin Man Registered User regular
    Rhogar had no qualms with the child. He seemed content holding on, and he was in no mood to insult a baby.
    "I guess I'm with the rest of these...err...fellows? If the pay is right, and you don't ask the impossible, I would be more than willing to hone my art on the road." He knelt down with his free knee, just enough to give the child a reassuring pat, as if he needed more incentive to hold on, and glanced up with a smile. Colleague. He was finally more than an ill omen, or tellings of a dark time. He was part of a group. And, from the looks of his companions, it did not seem like they were the type to go about ending worlds. At least, not innocent worlds.

    The wilden, however, confused him. He was literally a walking example of all Rhogar had attempted to commune with and become one with. His master would call it a sign, "When that which you seek becomes that which you follow," he used to say. Of course, the young dragon never assumed he meant LITERALLY.

    shamanhealingwave.jpgabilitypaladinshieldofv.png
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    Cassandra looked back at the associated nobles and chuckled. "Don't worry about the pay, friends. Since the others outside are his backup plan if we don't accept his offer, and since we aren't in anyone's employ as yet..." she paused and gave a meaningful look just past the dwarf's left eyebrow, and are therefore free to leave and find our own adventures together... I'm sure this kind dwarf will make us an offer that won't insult our intelligence."
    Spoiler:

    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • lodwilklodwilk Registered User
    | "Unfortunately all our high profile jobs are for official members, and we never recruit anyone until after they've done one job for us, proving that they know what they're doing. " The dwarf strokes his beard in thought, having completely forgot about the pipe in his hands, spilling some of the tobacco into his beard. As if completey unaware of the mess he continues on, "I did receive a message that a certain town could use some help. Small place, very nice, called Millhaven I believe. They're about a weeks walk south east from here, and I just got a call they're call for help so it isn't on our official records. Apparently they're having a bit of a haunting problem, I'm not sure of the details but if you feel like taking the job it's yours. I don't know much details though other then they're being haunted, hell I haven't even had the price quoted to them, so it's strictly freelance where you guys can negotiate whatever reward you want."

    DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
    Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    Cognast watches the reactions of the others carefully as the dwarf explains the situation. None of them seem like the sort to do a whole lot pro bono publico. Mercenary work isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, and it's a difficult mental transition to do look into a job that may not pay very well and may cost you your life.

    From what he knew of Millhaven -- and again, his lax attitude in history and cultural studies haunted him, as his Master promised they would -- he couldn't imagine that the people there would be able to afford heaping generous rewards for any kindness rendered. But proof of competence might be just the sort of thing this crew needed in order to progress. They seemed like skilled, fated people that deserved his help, and he was certainly honor bound to investigate a haunting - undeath and proper destiny rarely if ever go hand in hand, so as a charge of Ioun, he knew it fell under his charter.

    "A haunting, you say." He considers this briefly, or at least makes sure he appears to be considering it. He turns to the crew around him. "I've little choice, friends. I'm duty bound to investigate such an event. If the people of Millhaven requested assistance -" under his breath he adds, "from Malien, of all places - their need must be considerable. I don't know what the town could offer any of you as far as reward, but as a Hospitalier, should the mayor's house still stand, I should be able to find us lodging there." He turns back to the dwarf. "And, obviously, making a name for themselves might give them an edge to join your stalwart company, eh, master dwarf?"
    Spoiler:

    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    The halfling considers the offer. There are many superstitions among her people, but for the most part she has always proven fairly resistant to them, perhaps simply on account of not being imaginative enough to be unsettled, let alone scared by ghosts or monsters; and while encounters with such beings are rather beyond her experience, she isn't especially wary of the notion either – if anything, it's another opportunity for her to prove her mettle, and that she cannot possibly pass up. Indeed, she feels it's not at all unlikely for these so-called hauntings to be perfectly mundane after all, the result of someone trying to frighten the people of Millhaven for some doubtlessly malicious reason, a thought that almost disappoints her in a way: living, breathing evildoers are one thing, but actual spectres and poltergeists would be quite another.

    Eventually, with a slight shrug, Brinna nods. "Sure, count me in."

  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    Cassandra looks at the dwarf suspiciously for a moment and then shrugs.

    "So this is a trial job- we succeed at this little errand, we keep the money they may or may not have to give us, and you'll give us something more... substantial next time, assuming we like working together and don't have anything better to do once we're done in Millhaven? Yeah, okay. I can live with that."

    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    "Hm," Hohenvar grunted. A mixture of unease but curiosity coursed throughout him. "A job is a job I suppose. If those people need help then I'm more than happy to lend assisstance."

    An idea sprang forth within the barbarian's mind, however. If they had to take a less-than-adequate job then there might as well be some form of compensation. Maybe even a perk or two. He decided it was worth the risk.

    "However a week is quite a while, especially for a town in need," his even tone began to grow with a hint of a malice. "If you could lend us a cart or something I'm sure we could make it there in record time. A faster job means more work for you to give us."

    The same scar of a grin twisted itself upon Hohenvar's visage.

    "And if we didn't make it there in time, I'm sure that wouldn't do good for your business or health."
    Spoiler:

    Gatsby on
    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • lodwilklodwilk Registered User
    At first the dwarf seems rather pleased that the group of you seem ready to accept the job. Hohenvar quickly wiped the smile off his face though, as the dwarf considers the wildens words. Uh yes... well I do think I might have something for that the group of you can use. Give me a moment if you will." Without waiting for a response the dwarf heads over to one of the city employed warforged nearby, gives it a few coins which the warforged places inside its tunic, and then tells the animated machine a few words. Without responding in any way the warforged heads over to the building and goes down an alley that leads to the back.

    Returning to the group of you the dwarf smiles, "I sent that warforged to get you a cart and some horses we have in the back. Now the cart might be a bit gaudy, it was taken as salvage from a previous job, and it used to belong to a traveling group of warforged thespians. It should suit your needs though...Ah there it is!"

    The dwarf points down the alley where the city worker was just leaving a cart pulled by two horses. To say the cart was gaudy was an understatement, the sides were painted a turquoise blue, with a large green splash back effect on it, and it large orange letters were the words "Mystery Machines!" The dwarf turns to Hohenvar and grins "I hope that is to your liking because it is all I can give you."

    DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
    Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    To say a grimace splashed itself across Hohenvar's face would be equivalent to saying Gnolls appreciate the occasional nibble of red meat. Crossing his arms before covering his face behind a black-feathered hide gauntlet in exasperation he could only shake his head before making a noise that one could discern as a sound of reluctant agreement. Beggars can't be choosers, was the thought that kept the barbarian from burying his axe into the cart and his sword into the Dwarf. Deep breaths, like miniature gale winds across the tree line, were taken as well by Hohenvar.

    "Very well," he finally said through clenched incisors. "It won't help us blend in but it will at least prove to the townsfolk we're not threatening. At all. Not even in the slightest."
    Spoiler:

    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    Brinna eyes the gaily coloured monstrosity called a "cart" for a long time, then just barely stifles a sigh. "Rather be walking," she grumbles, already knowing it's not an option – nor does she have enough money to afford even a pony in this place, for that matter.

  • The Muffin ManThe Muffin Man Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Rhogar raised a brow, "This...isn't really happening, right? We're not actually getting INTO that thing...are we?"
    He groaned, rubbing his temple gingerly with his clawed fingers, "Rho, boy..." he grumbled (probably poorly phrased) to himself, "What have you gotten yourself into..."

    The Muffin Man on
    shamanhealingwave.jpgabilitypaladinshieldofv.png
  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Cognast's face retrieves the the tops and bottoms of his eyelids with some difficulty, forcing them to close twice in a stunned blink. "I... admire their showmanship." He manages, very briefly. "Show-machine-ship. Showiness, at any rate." He shakes his head loose. "Still...a ride is a ride." He looks to the others for some assurance. "Right?"

    He strolls over to the cart, taking the reins of the horses gingerly and clambering into the driver's seat. He rakes his blonde hair away from his eyes so he can see a little more clearly. "Well, gang? I promise not to sing even once on the way there. Not even if asked."

    As Brinna moves over to inspect the cart, he leans over to offer a hand to help any of the shorter folks up. "The Walker I mentioned didn't have a name. I can only tell you that he was a dwarf. His name, apparently, was one of his obstacles? He'd forsaken it, for whatever reason."
    Spoiler:

    srboyceboat on
    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • GatsbyGatsby ElsewhereRegistered User regular
    Hohenvar reached up to pat the taller Dragonborn's back, letting him know his thoughts echoed his own. All he could do was give one final bristle of foliage, slightly more vigorous than usual as he passed the dwarf, animosity radiating off his blackened armour. In a single flourish he swung up into the back of the cart. He took one glance over before giving a resounding grasp and knock on the shockingly painted wood. An approving creak emanated from his lips, before he nodded to the rest of the group.

    "Sturdy pine, lightweight but surprisingly tough," he gave the cart one more knock, "Solid and reliable. The wagon will really have to do. We can always re-paint it ourselves if we need to."

    Satisfied, for the time being, the Wilden sat down and crossed his arms. A new journey awaited and travelling suited him better than bargaining.

    Steam ID
    Friend Code: 2766 - 9202 - 0140
  • The Muffin ManThe Muffin Man Registered User regular
    Rhogar quickly shifted into a large canine form, to take up less room of course, and bounded into the back seat of the carriage. Shooting a glare at the dwarf, he laid his head down and spoke up.
    "Let's just hurry up and get on the road. Sooner we leave, sooner we get there and ditch this thing in a lake or something." He growled under his breath.
    "I take it the child will be traveling back here with his Uncle Rhogy?" He smirked, having grown to like the thing.

    shamanhealingwave.jpgabilitypaladinshieldofv.png
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    "Thanks," is the halfling's somewhat dour response to Cognast's offer, which she determinedly ignores in order to clamber up onto the cart on her own. Easing herself on the seat beside the half-elf, one leg folded beneath her while the other is left to dangle off the side of the vehicle, Brinna releases the breath she has been holding in. "He gave up his name? That's queer," she remarks, brow creasing in a slight frown. "Kargg said there are Walkers like those. Who drop their name, or don't talk at all. Things like that." She shrugs her shoulders, broad for a halfling's. "Don't think it's the point of the Path to make it harder for other people to deal with you." Another shrug. "Their choice, I reckon."

    Pulling a small linen package from her pocket and unwrapping it to produce a severely shortened breadstick, the monk half turns to regard those of the group she hasn't spoken to yet. "I'm Brinna," she puts forth truthfully and pops the remainder of the breadstick into her mouth.

  • srboyceboatsrboyceboat Registered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Cognast smiles at Rhogar's casual display of magic he can't possibly understand as the now canine-like dragonborn flops into the back of the cart. To Brinna, he says, "No, I can't understand why anybody would either. But his skill was exemplary. He fought six fully trained Knights in unarmed combat and not a single one of them landed a solid hit. I'd never seen anything like it." He shifts uncomfortably at the unpleasant memory, as if his backside were suddenly rather sore. "Well, five Knights and an apprentice. I have regrets to this day."

    srboyceboat on
    Picture is Dave Dorman's (http://www.davedorman.com/)
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2011
    Cassandra hops onto the cart (quite gracefully, despite her height compared to the size of the carriage), and puts Frankie down.

    "The child does as he likes... I wouldn't count on him doing what you expect, if I were you. "

    Despite that, the child toddles over to Rhogar with a shriek of glee and starts smacking his snout, putting her fingers into his nose and generally abusing him, all the while smiling toothily and letting out random happy noises.

    Rolling her eyes, the halfling turns to her breatheren, and says "I'm Cassandra, and Frankie is the happy child over there. Pleased to make your acquaintance!".

    Just then, a bluebird landed on Cassandra's head, opened its beak to sing, and let out a long MOOOOOOOOOO. Most people never get to see a bird looking baffled, but this one surely does as it flies off... Cassandra smiles at the bird, looking for all the world as though she didn't find this the least bit odd.
    Spoiler:

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • lodwilklodwilk Registered User
    edited September 2011
    As the group of you get in the cart you head out of the city, receiving many confused looks from the local populace, be it from your form of transportation or just the bizarre assortment of a short dragonborn, a plant like creature, two halflings, a half elf knight, and a baby. Eventually you find your way out of the city and away from the confused looks and stifled laughs.

    The first day of travel was rather uneventful with the most interesting thing being when Frankie climbed Rhogar and tried to get him to charge Hohenvar. On the second day of travel you eventually come upon a crossroads with a small pond in the centre of the intersection. As Cassandra checks the map to see which path you’re all to take, the rest of you notice a small, dog sized reptile hiding in the bushes watching the group of you. Hohenvar notices deeper into the woods a hobgoblin with a bow aimed at the party, meanwhile Rhogar notices not only the same hobgoblin but a goblin to the right of the cart sneaking up on all of you.

    The dragonborn and wilden manage to yell ambush before the goblonoids manage to attack the gaudy cart.

    Actions
    Spoiler:
    Map
    Spoiler:
    Status
    Spoiler:

    lodwilk on
    DM in Age of Ascension (IC/OOC)
    Tzeentch in CitOW Game 53
  • MMAgChMMAgCh remember tomorrow. Registered User regular
    A strangely contented look on her face, Brinna pulls forth her club, lightly balancing its haft in the crook between the bent thumb and forefinger of her right hand, and slips off the cart, ready to fight!
    Spoiler:

«13
Sign In or Register to comment.