3.5 RP oriented DnD INC

[Croverus]

The city of Jestul was not too impressive. Surrounded by a wall of stacked logs about 10ft high and 5ft wide, it surrounds most of the village except the lumberyard, the wizard's tower, and a few homesteads. The sun sits high in the sky, the sound of wood being chopped can be heard from the forest. The wizard tower stands over 100ft tall, crooked and rising in an impossibly unstable manner. The wizard can sometimes be seen looking out a window but otherwise none ever see him unless they go up the tower to speak with him.

As adventurers with varying purposes you have all come here for one reason or another, but what you all have in common is needing supplies and a place to stay. There is one large Inn, the Bellowing Wyvern, located in the center of town. It acts like the centerpoint of the town's ocmmerce, with the streets around it twice as wide for merchants to set up stalls and wagosn to unload supplies. Most of the town's shops cluster around this market place. The barracks is located near the southern gate, constructed of solid lumber and cobblestone. There is no room in the barracks though for travelers so all would have to go to the Bellowing Wyvern to find a bed. The Inn is the best place to go if you are seeking information.

If you have already been staying at the Inn, it is 4 sp a night, plus 2 sp for good meals. The 4 sp a night gets you a room with a small bunk, a chamber pot, and a warm blanket. An extra 3 sp gets you a larger room with your own chest to store gear, a washbucket, and a steel mirror on the wall. There are only 4 upgraded rooms available.

[Illven]

Alex has payed for a regular room.

Patrons of the Bellowing Wyvern can find Alex in the common room of the Inn. Preaching the ways of Pelor.

Come my friends, and let me show you the way the Pelor. The glorious orb in the sky. Follow my path and be enlightened.

Diplomacy check [roll0]

[ji9zo]

Conor, being reasonably well off, would have bought an upgraded room with meals while he stayed in the city.

After spending a few days asking around the city with no success, he determined that he would spend a day or two relaxing in the Bellowing Wyvern's common room before continuing his search. While sitting alone sipping at a mug of something strong he overhears the proclamations of a servant of Pelor. While neither a follower of the Sun God himself nor willing to convert, he could never refuse a good story, with which most religious dogma usually had in abundance. He takes a seat nearby the preacher and quietly listens for what he has to say.

[hoverfrog]

Dannydd

Dannydd has heard much of the wizard of Jestul and his impossible tower. The real thing had been something of a disappointment when he'd arrived last week. He'd expected something grander somehow. Still his aim was to speak with the mage at length but first he had to find out more about him. The common room of the Bellowing Wyvern was a perfect place to listen to gossip and hear of the comings and goings of learned men and women. The bar keep had been promising a bard for the last three days too. Such well travelled entertainers where notorious for picking up useful titbits.

Unfortunately his quiet evening of reading and listening was being spoiled by some drunk raving about a deity of some kind. No doubt he thought that Pelor literally pulled the sun across the sky in a chariot or some such nonsense. For a moment he considered conjuring a simple illusion of a puppet doing just that but decided against drawing that much attention to himself. Instead he nursed his cup of mulled wine, only one of an evening so as to keep a clear head, and tried to concentrate on his book. If the drunk got too annoying he'd retire to the simple room he'd rented upstairs.

[KingOfLaughter]

Having spent the day trying his best to gather information, Torrik retires to the Inn, giving the owner a pair of intricate gold pieces, paying for his more lavish room, his meal, and a gallon of ale, while also tipping him most pleasantly. Torrik retires to a dark corner from which he can eat, and drink, in peace.

He looks down at himself and sighs, his armor and axe show his heritage but shine like that of a diplomat, he wonders to himself How much longer before I start fighting.."

[JelloCat]

On the far side of the bar from the preacher, nursing a beer Ghost sits with his back to a corner watching the patrons flow in and out.

[Croverus]

The preacher manages to catch the attention of a trio of drunks, who take a near by seat and all turn to watch teh preacher speak, shouting out incoherent giant they must have picked up in the trollmoors. They heckle the priest, egging him on, probably. "Grong Knak Plorg!

For those that speak giant:
"Preach to us holy man!"

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn sat tucked away in the back of the bar room, quietly sharpening a dagger while she waits for her meal. Her uniform clearly shows she is part of the Lancastrian army and she's had a few snide comments from out-of-towners about taking up rooms when surely she should be in the barracks. She is quietly watching the bar patrons, staying aware of one's surroundings is a hard habit to break. A small smile slides across her face as someone stands and begins preaching the blessings and benefits of worshipping Pelor.

[KingOfLaughter]

Hearing the trio shout, Torrik grabs his ale, and his meal and moves to his room. Placing the food on the chest he does his daily prayer and removes the parade pieces of his armor.

[Illven]

Alex looks questioningly at the drunks. Then a look of pity crosses his face.

Please, good sir. Let us speak the language of civilization, so that I may guide you into the light.

[2gig]

Weary from his journey, Walter stops in at the Bellowing Wyvern for some r&r. He purchases the cheapest available meal with some of the coin he's yet to give away. While he's managed to fall well off the radar of those hunting him, Walter is far from feeling at ease. Walter had never left Talathiel before and if being in a place so completely foreign to him wasn't uncomfortable enough, Walter's appearance had already started getting him some dirty looks from the locals.

Walter had been listening to a preacher of Pelor, whose words Walter could almost seem to recall from memory (having been raised in a monastery). The preaching soothed him. Suddenly, Walter becomes alert as several drunks begin to harass the preacher.

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn giggles at the sight of the drunk hecklers. She has no idea what they're saying, but they certainly seem to be enjoying the show. She slides one dagger into its sheath, pauses to take a drink from the mug in front of her, and then removes another dagger and proceeds to sharpen that one. I know it's not intentional, but this is more entertaining than a singer she thinks.

[Croverus]

The man laughs, banging his mug as his friends join him in laughter and he speaks again in common. "Preach on priest! Let's hear what you have to say of your god." He takes a big gulp of his drink and cheers with his friends. They are at a level of drunkedness that it is hard to tell if they genuinely want to hear what the cleric has to say or if they are mocking him.

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn frowned as the drunks got a little more belligerant. It was hard to tell just how serious they were being. She'd already seen one man get up and head upstairs, apparently fed up with the noise, and she could see another man getting gradually more tense. She lightly wrapped one hand around the dagger and took another drink from the flagon. Do not start anything, she told herself firmly. You don't need the hassle.

[hoverfrog]

Dannydd

Dannydd had had enough of the drunken louts. The preacher was drunk on faith and not on wine as he'd first thought. Those sort were best left alone where their fervour could burn itself out. Arguing with them just made them more belligerent. This taunting though was distasteful.

He put his book away and walked to the bar. "Evening," he nodded to the bar keep, "a pitcher of your strongest wine please, hot as you like, and four mugs." After paying he spend a moment summoning a cantrip to carry the mugs then wound his way through the crowd to the table with the noisy drunks.

"Gron klar plovain knak grorh grong. Terrikan fro fromti. " he intones in perfect giant, "Alk alk, tobin roth"
Translation: Here, enjoy this wine as my gift to you. Leave the holy man to preach his foolishness or kill him. It is a sign of weakness to torment the afflicted. He has the mugs float down slowly next to the pitcher of wine and then steps back with a bow.The spell I cast is Prestidigitation. I'm using it for the theatrics to impress these drunken louts so that they are wary of turning their attentions to me. I'm not intimidating but an obvious display of power might put them in the wrong foot.

[Illven]

Alex

I shall, noble sirs. What tale of Pelor would you all like to hear first?

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn smiled at the sight of the mugs hovering in midair - clearly someone else was fed up with the noisy drunks, though she wasn't entirely sure giving them more alcohol would help the situation. Leaning sideways, she grabbed the sleeve of a passing server.

"Is this guy always preaching like that?" She asked, gesturing towards the preacher, now enthusiastically asking for story ideas. Too much more of this and I'm just going to go to bed, she thought. She had only arrived that afternoon, and she was meant to be up early to start the training after all.

[OMG PONIES]

Thrash Crasher

Today had not been a great day. First, for a city known for it's lumber, every damned merchant in the place seemed aware of the reputation and marked up their prices accordingly. Second, there were so many of them that Thrash had gotten lost (and a little dizzy) heading from one to the next. Lastly, there were people shouting; if anyone was going to be shouting, Thrash wanted it to be him--not a dime-a-dozen preacher, and definitely not a group of drunkards. However, there was a woman, so perhaps things were starting to look up.

She had grabbed Thrash's sleeve, mistaking him for one of the barmen. Rather than taking offense, he smiled at her. Sometimes happy chance could lead to the most interesting meetings. "If not him," he says with a wink, "one of a thousand like him. You think they'd learn to read their audience a little more, eh?" The man extended his hand to Adeyn and bowed slightly. His muscles rippled as he moved, and his mop of red hair all but obscured his pale blue eyes from sight. "Thrash Crasher, miss, well met. And you are?"

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn looked up, her expression startled. She stares dumbly at Thrash for a moment, her eyes flicking up and down his body, while her face slowly turns pink.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you weren't- I mean, of course you aren't, why would you be? I should have been paying attention, it's just that I-" she breaks off abruptly, the faint pink in her cheeks turning into a full-blown blush at her babbling. "I mean... uh, I'm Amaril Sergeant. Sergeant Amaril! ... I'm Adeyn Amaril, I'm with the army..." she trails off, her face now flaming, and mutters something you can just hear are some pretty inventive swear words.

[OMG PONIES]

Thrash straightens a bit at the mention of her rank. "Well met, Sergeant," he corrects himself with an infectious smile. "Pray tell, what are we drinking? Allow me to buy the next round as a show of appreciation for your service. If I may?" he asks with a gesture to the bench across the table.

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn straightens in her seat, which is impressive, considering she was already sitting ramrod-straight.

"Uhh, it's just al- ale," she stammers, looking briefly into her flagon like she wasn't sure it was ale. She grimaces and drops her head briefly to stare at her hands, which have visibly clenched around dagger and whetstone. She takes a few deep breaths and when she lifts her head, she has regained control over her voice, if not her complexion.

"Please do," she nods towards the empty bench. "And I am sorry about mistaking you for a server." Pink flares briefly in her cheeks, she is clearly very embarrassed.

[KingOfLaughter]

Having finished his ale, and cleaned his gear, Torrik sighs, "Guess I need more ale... Gah, I hope those drunkards have finally shut up."

And so, Torrik adventures back down to the bar, ordering more ale, and finds a corner booth to sit in.

[2gig]

Out of the corner of his eye, Walter notices a woman blushing uncontrollably while talking to a man. The look on her face is so comical that, even without the context of the situation, Walter bursts into a loud hyena-laugh (http://youtu.be/uC-bXVuImDc?t=1m28s). Now Walter is a little embarrassed, too. He hangs his head as if focusing intently on his dinner plate.

[hoverfrog]

Dannydd Nhamashal Lloigor

"Fascinating, some kind of gnoll hybrid," Dannydd turns from the drunks and the preacher, having forgotten them at the sound and sight of this new wonder. The cups trail after him too as he neglects to end his spell on them. "Excuse me, Sir. Might I join you for a moment?" Not waiting for confirmation he grabs a stool and begins to ask questions about gnoll history and linguistics even going so far as to start a new page on his notebook and write a title of "Observations into gnoll culture from the point of view of a human\gnoll hybrid".

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn's head jerks up at the bizarre laugh, she gapes a little, open-mouthed, at the strange creature, who stares back at her for a moment before dropping his head and staring at the table below him. Apparently she's not the only person making a fool of herself tonight. The thought is strangely comforting.

[2gig]

"Oh, uhm, sure... Hi," says Walter, with a voice a bit higher than one might expect from someone so large and ferocious looking.

Walter doesn't know what to make of this Elf's sudden interest in him, but he dosen't seem unfriendly. Not unfriendly is almost the same as friendly, and Walter could really use a friend right now.

"Sorry, I don't know nothin' about Gnolls. I never even met one."

Walter isn't apt enough to realize that he should be a touch offended, but he is a bit annoyed, given how often he gets asked questions like this.

[ji9zo]

"Tell us the one about the hungry fella, would you preacher?"

Conor calls out after a long period of silence. He looks up from his food and drink briefly and scans his eyes around the common room for the source of the peculiar laughter. Upon noticing the socially inept man-creature looking awkwardly at his table he shrugs and continues eating.

[Illven]

The preacher had stalled for a moment. Thinking to let the audience pick which tale to hear. When no suggestion was forthcoming. Alex thought.

They know nothing of Pelor, this is good. They will be easy to turn into the blazing hate.

Then at the suggestion, Alex brightened.

Very well good man. I shall tell you the tale of the Hungry man and how Pelor's blessings fed him. Taking a moment to clear his throat before starting his tale.

One there was a man. A man who hunted for his food. But one day, he couldn't find any animals, no matter how hard he looked. So the man went to sleep thinking he would try again tomorrow. But the strangest thing happened, the next day there were no animals either. Day after day passed without food. At deaths's door the man called to the heavens. "Oh why hath the gods forsaken me." And at that moment the sky burst with light. A glorious radiance that nothing could out-beauty. Then a bird of fire descended from the heavens to talk with the man. "Listen" The bird said. "The gods have not forsaken you, you have forsaken the gods. Follow Pelor's teachings and you will know bounty, follow Pelor's teachings and you will have food." "Oh please." The hungry man said. "Anything, I will follow Pelor's blessings." "Now go home." The bird said. "Go home and there will be food for you there." "But I can barely move." The man pleaded. "Then I shall carry you." The bird said. And when they were home. The man found all sorts of planted wheat. And with Pelor's blessing he lived happily ever after. The end.

[hoverfrog]

"No matter, " though in truth Dannydd was more than a little disappointed, "you're rather unique, you know. At least I've never even heard of a half-gnoll before. Would you tell me about yourself?"

[ji9zo]

Having finished his meal by the time the preacher had finished his story, Conor looks up again at him.

"Well told, preacher. But what of all the other starvin' people? Does your god feed 'em too?"

He asks with a grin, although seemingly more out of curiosity than disbelief.

[OMG PONIES]

Thrash Crasher

The young man shrugs, and for a moment it seems his tunic was about to rip from the muscles flexing beneath it. "It happens," he says, "and you got to place a drink order through me, so there's a bit of truth to it." He eyes the young woman with a mischievous grin. "So, Sergeant, are you a local, or did the army station you here in town?"

[Illven]

Alex rises his hands to the sky.

Pelor feeds all who have the wisdom to search.

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn's brown eyes flick around the room for a moment, before settling on Thrash's face as apparently the safest place to keep her eyes. For an army girl, and her uniform is stained and worn enough to suggest she is very much rank-and-file, she seems inordinately embarrassed at being confronted by a good-looking man. She almost pounces on his question, as something safe.

"I'm from Avandar," she replies. "I'm here to train a new group of scouts, but there isn't room in the barracks for me." She sounds like she'd be much more comfortable in the barracks than she is right now. Firmly pushing whetstone and dagger to one side, she picks up the flagon of ale and takes a drink, apparently determined to make conversation "What brings you to Jestul?" she asks, followed immediately by a muttered "loud mouth..."

[OMG PONIES]

Thrash rolls his eyes at the tedium of his answer before it's even out of his mouth: "Lumber. I know, scintillating, right? I'm looking to build myself a boat, and thought this was the place to snag some wholesale lumber. However, the merchants have been far less agreeable than yourself. Pray tell, what drives a woman like yourself to join the army?"

[Lady Moreta]

Lips twitch at the compliment, and Adeyn self-consciously tucks a strand of short copper-brown hair behind one ear before answering. She can't help but wonder exactly what the phrase 'a woman like yourself' actually means, but is well aware she'd never have the guts to ask, and so contents herself with the part of the conversation she is comfortable with.

"I'm an army brat." She says, smiling in a way that lights up her brown eyes. "My father is in the army, he's a trainer himself now. All I ever wanted was to join the army and be a soldier like him." She shrugs, there had never been any question in her mind what she would be once she grew up. "Why a boat?" she adds curiously.

[2gig]

"Uh... well.. umm... I was raised in the monastery of the Silver Thorn; for most of my life, that place was all I knew. When I was old enough, I joined the order and vowed to serve the poor, which is what I do now."

Walter is afraid that he may have been too boastful. He also intended to avoid tying himself to Talathiel because of his bounty there, but he accidentally let slip that he was raised among the Silver Thorn.

[hoverfrog]

"A monastery?" Dannydd was always interested in such places because they often served as the repositories of ancient lore, "Tell me more about this Silver Thorn. What is it famous for? Where did it get such a name? Is it far from here?"

[OMG PONIES]

"I'm an army brat." She says, smiling in a way that lights up her brown eyes. "My father is in the army, he's a trainer himself now. All I ever wanted was to join the army and be a soldier like him." She shrugs, there had never been any question in her mind what she would be once she grew up. "Why a boat?" she adds curiously.

Thrash decides not to tell the shy woman across the table about his aspirations to become one of the world's most feared pirates; things like that had a tendency of scaring off all women except the kind he didn't much care to keep company. "Why a boat?" he repeats with a sly grin, "because I'm rubbish at swimming." He finishes the last of his drink and calls over a barman. "Two more, please, for me and my friend." The gregarious redhead doesn't even bother to see how much of Adeyn's drink is still in the glass.

"A nightcap, if you will," he says. "And a question: what strikes your fancy aside from the military? I liked hearing from the Sergeant, but I'd love to hear from Adeyn...you know, off the record."

[Lady Moreta]

Adeyn bursts out laughing, she seems to laugh with her whole body, shoulders shaking and her eyes dancing. She's so busy chuckling, she misses being able to protest at him buying her another drink. By the time she realises he's bought her another drink, it's too late. She eyes it a little reluctantly, before slowly curling her fingers around the glass.

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline at his last comment, and the blush comes back. She blinks at Thrash, looking suddenly uncertain.

"I- there isn't really anything 'off the record'," she stammers. "I grew up in the barracks in Avandar, Papa used to take me into the barracks and his regiment turned me into their mascot for a while. Then he started bringing me in to keep me out of trouble. I- got into a lot of fights when I was a kid." Adeyn looks a little sheepish at that, but can't quite hide a small, satisfied smile. "He started teaching me swordwork," she glances down at the morningstar lying on top of her pack. "I don't think he ever forgave me for abandoning it for this," she nudged the weapon with her foot and gave it an affectionate smile. "The other men picked up on it and taught me a bunch of other stuff, and I enlisted when I was 17. I've never really existed outside the army, it's just-" Adeyn stops abruptly and looks up at Thrash, going slightly red again. "Sorry... I'm babbling..."