Hattish Thing
2014-04-03, 07:54 PM
The small town of Falcon’s Hollow is a wild place. Nestled in the shadow of Droskar’s Crag, the people of Falcon’s Hollow are hearty and stern. Theirs is a life of hardships, broken only occasionally by a handful of festivals and the infrequent merchant caravan. They face constant adversity from both the wilderness and the wiles of man. Wolves nip at their heels and cutpurses ply at their pockets. It is a testament to their strength that they even manage to survive at all. Yes, the small town of Falcon’s Hollow has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. However... the town would soon find itself in desperate need of assistance, but who, if anyone, could be bothered to rise up and become a hero and become Falcon Hollow's last hope?
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A rough community wholly owned by the Nothern Lumber Consortium, Falcon’s Hollow rests on the edge of Darkmoon Vale, a blunt, sawdust-choked stop on a winding trade route. Home to fewer than 1,500 humans and a smattering of other races, most of the townsfolk care only for the paltry coins paid for their backbreaking work and what simple comforts they can buy. A few, however, understand that what's bad for one is bad for all, and so the community thrives on a tenacious mix of greed, debauchery, and stubborn self-reliance. However... the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it. In the past week, numerous residents of Falcon’s Hollow have fallen ill, each suffering from the same hacking affliction. Local remedies prove as useless as prayers at the Church of Iomedae, goddess of valor, justice, and honor, and already at least one town elder has been claimed by the wheezing death dubbed "The Blackscour Taint".
Officials:
Falcon's Hollow is a harsh place, and here only the cruelest and greediest rise to lead.
Gavin Thuldril Kreed, in charge of all Lumber Consortium business. A fairly greedy man by all accounts, known to be a fierce bargainer, with a reputation for habitual drinking.
Magistrate Vamros Harg, in charge of public speaking and advisor to Boss Tweedum. Known to be a cowardly, manipulative creature, even among halflings.
Sherrif Deldrin Baleson, in charge of carrying out the law and head of the Town Guard. The most moral of the officials, the Sherrif knows how hard life out here can be, and is often seen as one of the few people of the town that actually cares about the citizens as a whole.
Boss Payden “Pay day” Twedum, Overboss of Darkmoon Vale. Boss Tweedum is a thoroughly unpleasant man by all accounts. Selfish, greedy, uncaring, and cruel, the Boss is hardly the kind of person to go complaining to.
Buildings:
The town of Falcon's Hollow composes of only the most vital buildings and structures. A market, a jail, a church, and even a few shops can be found built along the dusty streets. The rest of the area is mostly residential, small homes taking up the majority of the place.
Roots and Remedies, home of Laurel Elethay, is a small potions and herbs shop located besides the marketplace. Here, Laurel mixes up all sorts of strange elixirs and miracle cures. Most of her wares are fairly useless, doing little more than healing a common cold or easing back pain. However, Laurel is widely respected, and rumor has it the woman's grandmother worked with the famous healer Tayle Malloree.
The Church, staffed by Lady Cirthana and a small group of monks, is a small place devoted to maintaining the shrines of all the good aligned gods. There's a small area devoted to each god where citizens may pray or mediate. Unfortunately, Lady Cirthana is nothing more than a glorified sermon-giver, and her weak divine magic can do little to stop the horrific plague.
The Wormwood Inn, owned by Merl Taffsen, is one of the largest and brightest buildings of the town, ironically built right across from the church. Here, the hardworking citizens often gather to tell stories of strange beasts seen in the dark forests of Darkmoon Vale by the fire, or simply drink and relax their feet from a long day with the help of a good meal and an even better song.
The Market, a large area in the town square and home to the various traders of the town, is where the citizens shop for produce, clothing, and sometimes even the occasional rare luxury, such as an expensive bottle of wine or a pretty piece of jewelry. Merchants gather here every two days to open market.
The Northern Lumber Consortium Offices, is where the officials of the town usually lurk about in their private areas, looking over the profit made from their latest endeavor and waiting for their next paycheck. Here is where the lumberjacks come in to gather their paltry pay and drop off the haul gathered from their brutal work.
----
The Characters, and their introductions:
You've always been a fairly simple man, possessing a fair amount of inner strength and a will to help and heal those in need. You are a cleric of Fharlangn, the god of travel, and as your duty you are to wander the many roads of the land, tending to his roadside shrines as they pass. As you pass along through your journey's, the path gets a bit bolder, the dirt darker, and the air a bit more earthy as you begin to trod the man-made path into Darkmoon vale. After a day or two of travel, you eventually come across the small and unfamiliar town of Falcon's Hollow. Good. You'd been running low on rations, and your feet were beginning to really ache. Night was falling, and as you enter the small town, the doorman gives you a suspicious look, causing you immediately feel that something's not quite right. The people are mostly inside, the guards wear strange looking cloth over their mouths, and the town is eerily silent, even for nighttime. You make a promise to yourself to poke around in the morning and try to figure out what's going on, that is, as soon as you've gotten yourself some sleep at the local inn, suitably called "The Wormwood".
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=838295
You've always been a woman of the wild, always appreciating the feel of sun on your face and the familiar sting of a successful hit against a particularly strong opponent. You've lived in a small forest West of Falcon's Hollow for most your life in a large treehouse like structure. You made the trip to Falcon's Hollow for supplies for months, but about a month ago you grew tired of the loneliness of the forest and applied for a spot on the town militia. You've met new people and certainly enjoy this more social life, however you seem to put most people on edge. Regardless... This place is home for you.
You were here when the horrific BlackScour Taint began afflicting the population. You know more than most, but still very little. You're aware that the BlackScour Taint is some sort of fungal infection, spread through ingestion. You also know that that the victims of this terrible plague develope a horrific bloody cough, which often kills the poor wretch infected. Recently, one of your closest friends, Rayegh Willins, a town guard like you, has become infected. This has moved you to go out and attempt help as soon as you can.
You ruled that you'd go out and speak to Boss Tweedum, one of the leaders of the town. You had it in your head that perhaps you'd be able to convince him into putting more effort into investigating the cause of the plague, and possibly volunteering to help. Of course, it was late now, but morning would come soon...
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=458735
You are a member of the most sacred church of Pelor, Lord of the Sun. It is his duty to find and root out corruption and darkness in the world. You were always different than most, and your childhood was plagued by teasing and dejection. You were born different than the others, with nails like claws and eyes the color of blood. However, the servants of Pelor did not judge, and accepted you with open arms. At the age of seventeen you joined the church, and have worked with them for four years. So far you haven't really done too much beside the occasional ceremony or guid the occasional uneventful merchant caravan throught Golarion. However, Father Tusken has given you a new mission. Should you succeed, you'd earn the respect of the church, who you consider your family.
Should you fail, you might meet a particularly sticky end. Having weighed the risks, you've finally decided to accept the quest. Rumour has it that deep within Darkmoon Vale, a large forest located by the small town of Falcon's Hallow, a pack of werewolves lurk. The terrible creatures have become quite the problem lately, and so the church has sent you to go forcibly remove them!
You will not be aware of any sort of plague nor any of the specific happenings regarding the BlackScour Taint. You arrive into town after a few short days of travel by horse and rent a room at the local inn. It's far too late to head out now, and you're eager for the comforts of sleep.
In the morning you intend to head over to some sort of authority to request some time to recruit guardsman from the local area to deal with the supposed werewolf threat. Who knows what the morning will bring...
You, a young man of eighteen can be found working at the Wormwood inn as the only current bard. The last one was one of the first victims of the plague. Now, you remain one of the few bright and happy things in the small town, keeping the people's morale reasonably high. You've always been a bit of an outcast, descended from a long family line of proud rangers and frontiersmen who didn't approve of your musicality. However, you've always found a way to see the bright side of things.
However, recently your optimism's been taking quite a beating. Friends, drinking buddies, and even some of your favorite townspeople to sing and play music with have become infected with the terrible Blacksour Taint. No one else in the town seems to try and help, but instead the population's mostly resigned themselves to accepting the death of their friends and family.
You, however, after watching your good friend die, decide to head out and volunteer to help find a cure if you could. It's pretty late at the moment though, so you've gone to bed. Maybe the morning will bring some sorely needed hope.
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=847855
You've always been an anti-social individual, never fond of spending time with your own kind, preferring to live among the gnoll clan you grew up with. You're used to living among the plains, not by the huge, dark, mysterious forests of Darkmoon Vale. However, since your separation with the clan you've realized that visiting a nearby town would most likely be a good plan. You could restock your food supply, and perhaps look for some sort of work.
You entered the town around midnight, but instead of renting a room at the local inn, you decided to simply camp out your small sleeping bag just outside the marketplace. In the morning you vow to head out and see what this dreary little town could offer you.
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=847726
(The beginning post for each character should be of the individual waking up and beginning with their first actions. As I said, this adventure will be heavy on roleplay!)
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----
A rough community wholly owned by the Nothern Lumber Consortium, Falcon’s Hollow rests on the edge of Darkmoon Vale, a blunt, sawdust-choked stop on a winding trade route. Home to fewer than 1,500 humans and a smattering of other races, most of the townsfolk care only for the paltry coins paid for their backbreaking work and what simple comforts they can buy. A few, however, understand that what's bad for one is bad for all, and so the community thrives on a tenacious mix of greed, debauchery, and stubborn self-reliance. However... the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it. In the past week, numerous residents of Falcon’s Hollow have fallen ill, each suffering from the same hacking affliction. Local remedies prove as useless as prayers at the Church of Iomedae, goddess of valor, justice, and honor, and already at least one town elder has been claimed by the wheezing death dubbed "The Blackscour Taint".
Officials:
Falcon's Hollow is a harsh place, and here only the cruelest and greediest rise to lead.
Gavin Thuldril Kreed, in charge of all Lumber Consortium business. A fairly greedy man by all accounts, known to be a fierce bargainer, with a reputation for habitual drinking.
Magistrate Vamros Harg, in charge of public speaking and advisor to Boss Tweedum. Known to be a cowardly, manipulative creature, even among halflings.
Sherrif Deldrin Baleson, in charge of carrying out the law and head of the Town Guard. The most moral of the officials, the Sherrif knows how hard life out here can be, and is often seen as one of the few people of the town that actually cares about the citizens as a whole.
Boss Payden “Pay day” Twedum, Overboss of Darkmoon Vale. Boss Tweedum is a thoroughly unpleasant man by all accounts. Selfish, greedy, uncaring, and cruel, the Boss is hardly the kind of person to go complaining to.
Buildings:
The town of Falcon's Hollow composes of only the most vital buildings and structures. A market, a jail, a church, and even a few shops can be found built along the dusty streets. The rest of the area is mostly residential, small homes taking up the majority of the place.
Roots and Remedies, home of Laurel Elethay, is a small potions and herbs shop located besides the marketplace. Here, Laurel mixes up all sorts of strange elixirs and miracle cures. Most of her wares are fairly useless, doing little more than healing a common cold or easing back pain. However, Laurel is widely respected, and rumor has it the woman's grandmother worked with the famous healer Tayle Malloree.
The Church, staffed by Lady Cirthana and a small group of monks, is a small place devoted to maintaining the shrines of all the good aligned gods. There's a small area devoted to each god where citizens may pray or mediate. Unfortunately, Lady Cirthana is nothing more than a glorified sermon-giver, and her weak divine magic can do little to stop the horrific plague.
The Wormwood Inn, owned by Merl Taffsen, is one of the largest and brightest buildings of the town, ironically built right across from the church. Here, the hardworking citizens often gather to tell stories of strange beasts seen in the dark forests of Darkmoon Vale by the fire, or simply drink and relax their feet from a long day with the help of a good meal and an even better song.
The Market, a large area in the town square and home to the various traders of the town, is where the citizens shop for produce, clothing, and sometimes even the occasional rare luxury, such as an expensive bottle of wine or a pretty piece of jewelry. Merchants gather here every two days to open market.
The Northern Lumber Consortium Offices, is where the officials of the town usually lurk about in their private areas, looking over the profit made from their latest endeavor and waiting for their next paycheck. Here is where the lumberjacks come in to gather their paltry pay and drop off the haul gathered from their brutal work.
----
The Characters, and their introductions:
You've always been a fairly simple man, possessing a fair amount of inner strength and a will to help and heal those in need. You are a cleric of Fharlangn, the god of travel, and as your duty you are to wander the many roads of the land, tending to his roadside shrines as they pass. As you pass along through your journey's, the path gets a bit bolder, the dirt darker, and the air a bit more earthy as you begin to trod the man-made path into Darkmoon vale. After a day or two of travel, you eventually come across the small and unfamiliar town of Falcon's Hollow. Good. You'd been running low on rations, and your feet were beginning to really ache. Night was falling, and as you enter the small town, the doorman gives you a suspicious look, causing you immediately feel that something's not quite right. The people are mostly inside, the guards wear strange looking cloth over their mouths, and the town is eerily silent, even for nighttime. You make a promise to yourself to poke around in the morning and try to figure out what's going on, that is, as soon as you've gotten yourself some sleep at the local inn, suitably called "The Wormwood".
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=838295
You've always been a woman of the wild, always appreciating the feel of sun on your face and the familiar sting of a successful hit against a particularly strong opponent. You've lived in a small forest West of Falcon's Hollow for most your life in a large treehouse like structure. You made the trip to Falcon's Hollow for supplies for months, but about a month ago you grew tired of the loneliness of the forest and applied for a spot on the town militia. You've met new people and certainly enjoy this more social life, however you seem to put most people on edge. Regardless... This place is home for you.
You were here when the horrific BlackScour Taint began afflicting the population. You know more than most, but still very little. You're aware that the BlackScour Taint is some sort of fungal infection, spread through ingestion. You also know that that the victims of this terrible plague develope a horrific bloody cough, which often kills the poor wretch infected. Recently, one of your closest friends, Rayegh Willins, a town guard like you, has become infected. This has moved you to go out and attempt help as soon as you can.
You ruled that you'd go out and speak to Boss Tweedum, one of the leaders of the town. You had it in your head that perhaps you'd be able to convince him into putting more effort into investigating the cause of the plague, and possibly volunteering to help. Of course, it was late now, but morning would come soon...
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=458735
You are a member of the most sacred church of Pelor, Lord of the Sun. It is his duty to find and root out corruption and darkness in the world. You were always different than most, and your childhood was plagued by teasing and dejection. You were born different than the others, with nails like claws and eyes the color of blood. However, the servants of Pelor did not judge, and accepted you with open arms. At the age of seventeen you joined the church, and have worked with them for four years. So far you haven't really done too much beside the occasional ceremony or guid the occasional uneventful merchant caravan throught Golarion. However, Father Tusken has given you a new mission. Should you succeed, you'd earn the respect of the church, who you consider your family.
Should you fail, you might meet a particularly sticky end. Having weighed the risks, you've finally decided to accept the quest. Rumour has it that deep within Darkmoon Vale, a large forest located by the small town of Falcon's Hallow, a pack of werewolves lurk. The terrible creatures have become quite the problem lately, and so the church has sent you to go forcibly remove them!
You will not be aware of any sort of plague nor any of the specific happenings regarding the BlackScour Taint. You arrive into town after a few short days of travel by horse and rent a room at the local inn. It's far too late to head out now, and you're eager for the comforts of sleep.
In the morning you intend to head over to some sort of authority to request some time to recruit guardsman from the local area to deal with the supposed werewolf threat. Who knows what the morning will bring...
You, a young man of eighteen can be found working at the Wormwood inn as the only current bard. The last one was one of the first victims of the plague. Now, you remain one of the few bright and happy things in the small town, keeping the people's morale reasonably high. You've always been a bit of an outcast, descended from a long family line of proud rangers and frontiersmen who didn't approve of your musicality. However, you've always found a way to see the bright side of things.
However, recently your optimism's been taking quite a beating. Friends, drinking buddies, and even some of your favorite townspeople to sing and play music with have become infected with the terrible Blacksour Taint. No one else in the town seems to try and help, but instead the population's mostly resigned themselves to accepting the death of their friends and family.
You, however, after watching your good friend die, decide to head out and volunteer to help find a cure if you could. It's pretty late at the moment though, so you've gone to bed. Maybe the morning will bring some sorely needed hope.
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=847855
You've always been an anti-social individual, never fond of spending time with your own kind, preferring to live among the gnoll clan you grew up with. You're used to living among the plains, not by the huge, dark, mysterious forests of Darkmoon Vale. However, since your separation with the clan you've realized that visiting a nearby town would most likely be a good plan. You could restock your food supply, and perhaps look for some sort of work.
You entered the town around midnight, but instead of renting a room at the local inn, you decided to simply camp out your small sleeping bag just outside the marketplace. In the morning you vow to head out and see what this dreary little town could offer you.
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=847726
(The beginning post for each character should be of the individual waking up and beginning with their first actions. As I said, this adventure will be heavy on roleplay!)
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