Adventuring in Ansalon 5e [Archive] - Giant in the Playground Forums

Gorgon_Heap

2014-10-28, 09:36 AM

Cool autumn breezes have come upon the city of Sanction, bringing crisp frost and a light flurry. They blow gently east from New Sea and eventually rise, edged ever upward by the ambient heat from the volcanoes known as the Lords of Doom. The three peaks and their ever-flowing lava keep the city warm and the fields rich, but little moisture reaches deeper into the mountains toward arid Neraka.

Sanction is a city of extraordinary highs and lows. Mostly lows. For centuries following the Cataclysm that laid waste to the world three and a half centuries ago, it remained a cesspool of filth and crime. But more recent wars have brought people of honor and conviction to the city, and they in turn have cultivated trade, law, and a sense of identity in the populace.

No longer known for its fetid corpse-strewn alleys, Sanction today is a familiar port for sailors and merchants, artisans and investors. And yes, diplomats, wizards, knights and spies.

As you casually make your way through narrow cobbled streets, you pass all kinds of people from all walks of life: A the most decrepit looking elf laborer with a muck bucket; a velvet-doubleted dwarf businessman whose beard jingles with silver beads and rings; four young men carrying long rolled reams of cloth to some waiting dyer or seamstress; a trio of ebony-skinned sailors, one a woman, shouting and rolling dice with a pair of more heavily-dressed locals; two spear-wielding city guards in clean livery meander around the street, one cronching absentmindedly on an apple; an olive-skinned man with a dark beard and flowing Eastern robes shouts at his porters in a strange language.

You each have found Sanction perfect for your needs, at least for the time being, because of its past and secrets as well as its burgeoning prosperity and wealth of travelers from afar. After several days staying at the Roaring Cat Inn (the shingle depicts an exotic tiger, but the innkeeper seems to have an affinity for normal housecats), you’ve become acquainted and at least passably comfortable with each other, though conversations haven’t gone much beyond smalltalk at this point. You may not even know why the others are in the city at all, but you have different specialties that may be useful and you are enjoying a nice lunchtime stroll…

Now is the time for introductions and character descriptions. Also, if your PC has questions relating to what he/she is doing in town – history, religion, locations or people, you name it – give an appropriate roll or talk to NPCs. I’ll keep things quick and succinct.

King Tius

2014-10-29, 08:24 AM

Ladon Sparklegem is a perfectly average looking gnome wearing simple blue robes. Other than the fact that he is a gnome, he does his best to keep his appearance in keeping with the tall folk traditions, particularly those of other magic users. He's quick with a smile and loves to listen to other people's stories, particularly if some kind of joke or prank is involved. He is quick to explain that he's come to Sanction seeking further training in the arcane arts. As of yet he's had no luck gaining entrance to any magical academy or finding a suitable tutor, but his spirit seems indomitable and his hopes are still high. Barring any kind of magical tutelage, he's eager to prove his worth and try to gain some credibility in the strange city of big folk. Ladon makes sure to ask the owner of the Roaring Cat if he has any "magical dilemmas" that need tending to, but nothing's come up yet. When he's not out wandering the streets bothering people who look like they could be spellcasters, he curls up with one of the roaring cats, quite large compared to the little gnome, and studies his spellbook in the common room, never wanting to be too far away from anything interesting that might spring up.

Gorgon_Heap

2014-10-31, 07:14 AM

Though few, including the innkeepers, have taken Ladon up on his insistent if cheerful desire to work magics for any given reason, his days in Sanction have not been a total waste. It's widely known some of the old temples in town have long histories tangled in wars and sinister acts of high sorcery and godly worship. But those he asks all seem somewhat put off by his boisterous curiosity (read; horrified at the idea of letting a magic-wielding gnome near sites possibly housing dangerous artifacts).

He has learned, however, of a place in the Temple District called the Hall of Knowledge; a library of sorts dedicated to Gilian, God of the Book. Or maybe Majere, God of scholars and hitting things with sticks. He wasn't clear on the details.

Saskia

2014-11-04, 02:14 PM

Back home, Brynhild was huge: Nearly five feet tall and as strong as an ox. In a city of humans, she stands out more for her vibrant auburn tresses and matching personality, uncommonly loud and gregarious in temperament for a dwarf, and... for being as strong as an ox. Being used to the cool temperatures from her time underground and in the mountains, she still opts for lighter clothing as she's come to enjoy the crisp Autumn zephyrs in the lowlands. She still dresses in the typical form for a dwarf of her standing, though she may not yet be rich, she is of respectable lineage even within her honored clan and proudly displays her clan's insignia, opting to introduce herself as Brynhild of Daewar, rather than Brynhild Bearhunter.

Naturally, the first item on her list for moving to a new city is to get a job with which she can meet like-minded folk, and with her abilities it shouldn't be a difficult prospect. Certainly there must be some place in the city for a journeyman in both smithing and masonry, and she starts out with architectural firms, who she expects might need smiths who understand stonework, as well as more general smithies. As she can easily support herself off of the land's bounty, above or below, the money of a day job is more of a bonus than a necessity. As a daughter of the Daewar, Brynhild sees in that endless opportunity to generate fabulous wealth and do the work she loves. Life is a game of optimizing lifestyle, her father would say, and Daewar traditions are the distillation of untold generations of study and iteration.

Past that she makes a point of getting to know people, in part to establish a social circle, and in part to make herself better known. Opportunity knocks first on familiar doors.

Sorry for not posting until now, but dat workload.

Dat holiday workload.

King Tius

2014-11-17, 09:47 PM

As soon as he learns of the Temple of Knowledge, Ladon heads straight for it, eager to find employment or an opportunity however tangentially-related to spellcasting. Gnomish customs being quite different from those of the taller folk, Ladon has no qualms about asking literally every person he sees once inside the temple about opportunities for study, apprenticeship, or employment. He continues his inquiries until he runs out of folks to ask or is forcibly removed from the establishment. Should he run out of resources, he grows sullen and returns to his room at the Roaring Cat to sulk for a day before deciding to take matters into his own hands...

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-18, 01:01 PM

Sanction is renowned for its wars and its volcanoes. It is not known for academia. It looks like somebody's working on that, but that work will be a Sisyphean effort.

The temple district is on the eastern part of the city - opposite from the docks and past the merchant's district, which is centrally located. The district has seen many changes over the centuries, from neglect to takeover by the Gods of Darkness to misuse. Today it is a work in progress. The temples themselves - and there are a bevy of them scattered haphazardly throughout the winding neighborhood (perhaps intentionally out of direct sight of each other) - are mostly quite old and undergoing refurbishment.

Kiri-Jolith’s temple is a gray, weathered three-story stone box glaring sternly at the surrounding businesses. Down the street, among ironmongers, quarry masters and numerous artisans sits the Doom’s Anvil – the temple of Reorx. Two buildings behind a low stone wall house apartments, gathering halls, offices and a forge proper, where work and prayer coincide. Habbakuk’s hall appears to be a large inn bearing a blue phoenix shingle.

There are others, all with their idiosyncrasies, but the Hall of Knowledge is particularly unusual for its dual nature: Part practical and part a work of tender patience. To the left is an average-looking three-story building typical of business offices and residences across Ansalon. At its rear is an immense, looming two-story edifice of dark volcanic stone stretching hundreds of feet back and making an “L” to form a rear wall. Shades of black and gray whorl in mottled non-patterns across its otherwise featureless surface. What purpose could such a building have served? In the space to the right, framed by the office, dark wall and the next building over can only be described as an open-air park. Lovingly-tended shrubs and small trees dot a field with the traces of small stone paths. Two orange-robed monks sit silently in a small pagoda, oblivious to the chill as a third toils away in the distance with a shovel and small pile of stones.

The first floor windows have closed wooden shutters, but hanging on the door is a simple wooden plaque on a hemp line. It reads, “Enter all who seek knowledge.”

Happily taking that as an invitation, Ladon walks inside and finds a strangely Spartan waiting room lit by a battered lamp on a lopsided stool. A single rickety chair rests nearby. There’s nothing else in the room and nothing on the walls. There’s a small brass bell on the stool, its clapper replaced with a lumpish lead ball on a string, and Ladon cannot help but be amused by its dull chime as he jingles it for several minutes waiting for someone to take notice. Finally an ancient human man shuffles in, surprise raising his bushy white brows at your presence. You’re no expert at humans, of course, but his papery skin and long nose, along with the worn gray robe, probably mark him as a native of Solamnia, an Aesthetic from the Great Library itself.

“Eeh?” he manages to wheeze, squinting at you curiously. A shaky hand places aged spectacles on his nose, but his faded eyes quickly take in every detail. Within that withered body is obviously a keen mind. “Why, good day young master gnome. I am Garner, master of the Hall of Knowledge. What do you seek?”

Garner explains the Hall is a recent and joint effort between the followers of Gilean and Majere to get some civilized foothold in Sanction. In fact, it’s so recent and rather unsupported that its collection is disappointingly non-existent. They have only a few hundred texts as of yet, but he’s quite pleased with Ladon’s enthusiasm and will gladly take any help offered – though it appears he’s a bit suspicious as well, as you carry wizard’s implements but wear a strangely-colored robe.

Ladon and Garner are both friendly enough to get through this without checks. The last bit was a very good Insight check by Ladon. Also, it is widely known Gilean libraries do not charge for services, but gladly accept donations.

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-18, 02:38 PM

Strength of arms is one thing, but experience counts a lot for dwarves, and Brynhild's extreme youth works against her as she speaks with several established professionals. Dwarves she speaks with either aren't hiring skilled crafters (not that they give her the chance to prove her skill) or tell her gruffly to come back in a decade or two.

You note many of them have angry or slanderous things to say about each other - all referenced by name - and it's likely you're not only too young for them to take seriously, but you seem to be trying to break into a long-established dynamic of competition and animosity in a limited market. That's not to say you're without prospect, though. You're offered work as a miner by a dwarf-owned company and two humans are willing to take you on as either an assistant (low pay) or apprentice (you work/are taught and get room and board but essentially no pay).

But it's a start.

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-23, 04:12 PM

Asheli had bumped into these strangers once or twice over the past few days; each preoccupied with some important task but friendly enough to take a meal together in the Roaring Cat's common room. Though it's certainly not unheard of for people of different races to spend time together socially, especially here in Sanction, it is unusual for complete strangers. A gnome, a young dwarf from a mountain village not from from her own, and a very young man from far, far away had each arrived in the city with big, vague dreams, and then spent several days groping about blindly. Taking pity on them, Asheli realized they could all be helped by a single trip to the temple district, and so off you went.

The dwarf and gnome had gone about their business some time ago and left Asheli and the young man, Falkrahn, to your own affairs. It's not very entertaining. Falkrahn finds the ordinary gray box that is this city's Temple of Kiri-Jolith completely underwhelming. Asheli starts to wonder if she'll get paid for this good deed in any way.

Ladon and Brynhild completed some of their business and see the two humans standing just down the road, look quite bored, when an orange tabby, one of countless strays in the city, surely, trots out into the street ignorant of traffic. A heavy wagon bearing a load of large and small crates - no, make that cages - was just lumbering around a corner when the woman driving shouts and yanks at the horse's bridle. Hitting a run in the old road, the right front wheel gives way and the entire carriage topples over, spilling the driver and two big men who'd been sitting atop the cages. They, along with an array of traps, sticks and harnesses, hit the uneven cobbles in ugly, bruising heaps. They may be hurt. The biggest cage, overwhelmed by the weight of its occupants, splits, erupting a sprawling pile of huge, mangy, fat rats that squeal and claw for escape. Each nasty rodent is nearly two feet long!

Shouts erupt all over the street as doors slam and people scramble to get children away from the hissing animals...

Even if your action is to run away, here is initiative.

Asheli 13
Brynhild 18
Falkrahn 1! (You have only one action this round.)
Ladon 11
Rats! 1! (Dazed from their tumble, the rats have no action this round.)

If you have questions or want to make rolls, put use spoiler boxes.

Emongnome777

2014-11-23, 10:55 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt stands tall for a human, over six feet tall and well-built. He keeps his (quite basic) armor and weapons clean and in good condition. He proudly bears his family crest on his shield slung across his back and the bison head symbol of Kiri-Jolith on his breastplate of his armor. He's quite proud of his well-groomed jet-black hair, but his mustache ... not so much. He is looking forward to getting past those "dirty lip" comments he frequently receives from his friends.

Falkrahn arrived in Sanction after a long journey tired and... just tired. He found the Roaring Cat Inn to be quaint and reasonably priced so he settled in there. Frankly, he was a little nervous about the whole situation, but convinced that Kiri-Jolith led him here. Despite his apprehension and stand-offish behavior, he managed to make a few acquaintances, mostly spending time in the common room and wandering the streets (though not too far from the Inn).

The young lady, Asheli, seemed to know he way around, so he was glad she could guide him to the local temple to Kiri-Jolith. His excitement over finding some purpose in this dirty, confusing city was quickly dashed when he first laid eyes on the temple. "This is... underwhelming" he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and headed inside, hoping the outside was not an indication of the inside.

He was wrong. The foyer was empty and quite drab, with a single, faded banner bearing Kiri-Jolith's emblem on it. He eased his way down the hallway and past a couple of small rooms (offices?) until he finally found the sanctuary. It was small, dusty and empty save a lone individual standing near the altar. The man did not even notice Falkrahn enter. Falkrahn stood there mouth agape at the sight. This is not how a temple is supposed to be, he thought. He found more temple code violations than he could keep up with. Perhaps there were some good reason for these oversights, but he could not think of any, so he left, rather dejected.

He spent his brief journey back to the inn pondering whether he was really supposed to be here. He was so consumed with his own inner turmoil, that he barely notices the wagon topple over, not too far away. The screams bring him back to reality to notice the large ugly rats bearing down on him and his friends (when did they get here?).

In an instant, his selfish worries fade away and his faith and upbringing take over. People are in danger and it would be dishonorable to run. Falkrahn draws his sword and strides toward the nearest rat.

His one action is to move (up to 20ft) toward the nearest rat. He can draw his sword as part of the move, but cannot unsling his shield, so until his next round, he has an AC of 16.

Saskia

2014-11-24, 02:29 AM

An apprenticeship sounds to Brynhild a fine opportunity. She's learned the ins and outs of smithing already, and from what she's heard, despite their generally-accepted inferior production in stone and metal work, humans can pull off feats in hours that would take days for a dwarf.

At least, so she's heard.

In any case, there can be no harm done by learning how human smiths work, and her own people are, unsurprisingly, as stubborn as back home and far more unpleasant.

She decides before dedicating another two or more years of her life to a master she'd never met that it might be worth weighing her options and takes a walk. Swinging her axe is much more natural to her than swinging a striker's sledge. She enjoys the work, but it was never quite as easy for her as learning to fight. When, out on her walk, she sees Ladon she's happy to join him on whatever task he's set to, and talking incessantly about her most recent adventures in the city, when the rats get loose.

"Get the men, lad, be sure they're alright." By the time she's done speaking she's already got her axe and shield drawn and well on her way to slaying up some rats. Ratcatchers and their live sales be damned, it's better to kill the rats than let them escape to continue breeding.

Move up on the rat closest to endangering somebody that she can, ready her shield with her move.
Attack the rat, using the action to draw her battleaxe to do so.

[roll0] to hit,
[roll1] damage.

AC 12; 10+shield. I assume this isn't a particularly violent city and she'd have no real reason to be walking about in full gear.

Stormageddon

2014-11-24, 10:05 PM

Asheli

Asheli is always happy to show newcomers around her city, and it has been quite in the city of late. No emotion crosses her face as she see's the knight's excitement to disappoint. Such is the ways in Sanction. People adjusting to the gods returning for the second time. Things were slow to adjust.

Maybe she would buy the knight a drink to easy his troubled mind. He seemed like the good sort for his kind. The silence of the trip was broken by the cart crashing and the rats bursting from there cage. Asheli didn't even lose a beat as she smoothly pulls her bow and fires at the nearest rat.

attack [roll0]
damage [roll1]

King Tius

2014-11-25, 10:44 PM

Ladon Sparklegem is halfway back to his new-found friends when the wagon topples over. Excitable as any gnome, he leaps nearly a full foot in the air as he yelps in surprise at the clamor. He quickly pulls his wand off his belt and begins waving his hands in front of him in a series of tight circles. He half sings, half shouts several arcane syllables as magical armor glimmers briefly into being around him before fading to near-invisibility. With his abjurations up, he scurries to get behind those with melee weapons, already pondering his next incantation.

"Look at the size of those things! I could ride one if I wasn't so scared of gnawing on my leg!"

Object Interaction: Draw Wand (Arcane Focus)
Action: Cast Mage Armor
Move: Scurry behind melee types

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-25, 11:08 PM

Round 1

The unusually large rats are at first stunned by their tumble from the wagon and cage, and then seem further disoriented by the shrieks and panic by passersby. By the time some of them begin to get to their feet, armed humanoids are already descending on them.

Brynhild is deep in conversation with Ladon and doesn’t even pause when she sees the accident. Speeding her pace and bringing her shield to bear in a very low guard, she brings her axe right down onto a skittering rat and nearly bisects it, chipping the stone beneath it.

Ladon is instantly excited by the ruckus and the size of the rodents, and quickly draws his wand and envelops himself with protective energy.

Falkrahn moves to intercept a rat only for it to suddenly sprout an arrow from its skull. It collapses as he peers over his shoulder at an unemotional Asheli, who’s drawing another arrow.

The remaining rats – nobody can tell how many as the wagon is blocking the view from different directions, are now running in all directions for shadowed alleys and old foundations. Except two. The starving animals can’t resist the smell of sweat and blood and hop onto one of the men from the wagon. The woman, who’d been driving, screams and tries to climb onto the wagon’s side and the second beefy man grabs one of their rat-catching sticks and whacks one with a meaty thump. The animal grunts but doesn’t seem put out as it and its companion sink their great teeth and salivating tongues into the man’s chattered and gushing arm. He screams in agony and is pinned under at least 50 pounds of ravenous rodent …

OOC: Ladon and Brynhild, up the street, can see the wagon bed and three people. Asheli and Falkrahn are looking at the bottom of the wagon and a bunch of traps, cages and gear scattered around the street. People and rats are running in every direction.

Begin Round 2...

Stormageddon

2014-11-26, 03:51 PM

Asheli

Asheli takes no enjoy in her success as the rat drops as she readies another arrow and fires at rat going after a civilian.

Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

King Tius

2014-11-26, 07:56 PM

Seeing the rats attacking the injured man, Ladon decides to intervene. He curls his hand into a cylinder, speaks a deep and gurgly sounding word in the lowest voice he can, and blows into his impromptu blowgun, generating a huge glob of acid that goes sailing towards the pair of rats assaulting the human. If needed, Ladon will scurry to a better vantage point to get a clear shot at them.

Move to a better vantage point if needed
Fire an Acid Splash at the two rats (assuming they are within five feet of each other since they are both on the man)
They need to pass a DC 14 Dexterity save or take [roll0] acid damage

Saskia

2014-11-26, 11:07 PM

Killing a rat is no glorious feat, and instead of showboating Brynhild immediately bounds toward one of the rats mauling the man. "Damn you, little ****muncher! Get off!"

Move over to the woman being eaten by the rat, and reslinging her shield with that action.
Attack to grapple (p. 195, yay it's still a thing and not nearly as complicated as 3.X!) the rat and pull it off; [roll0] athletics for grapple, opposed by its athletics or acrobatics.

Roll to attack, since I misread. I thought the rat was climbing her, not that she was climbing the wagon :smallredface:

Rolling the 1d8+3 in OOC.

Emongnome777

2014-11-27, 12:00 AM

Falkrahn quickly slings his shield from off his back and steps around the wagon to attack one of the two rats he can reach that is still living.

Move: Step around to the nearest rat and equip shield.
Attack: Melee attack with Longsword: [roll0]. If hit, deals [roll1] damage.

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-28, 07:06 PM

Round 2

Moments ago it appeared the huge rodents would manage to escape back into the city to attack children (and kender) and spread disease, but the tables are quickly turned.

Brynhild immediately bounds toward one of the rats mauling the man. "Damn you, little ****muncher! Get off!" she roars, punctuating her dwarven epithet in a dwarven manner: Nearly cleaving the animal in two with a battle axe. The screaming man's face is sprayed with pungent rat blood and the vicious vermin's parts roll off him.

Asheli easily hits a rat clawing at a butcher's storefront- attracted by the smell no doubt - pinning its twitching body to the wooden door.

In the time it takes Ladon to complete his spell, Brynhild had already done away with one of his targets, but his small globule rushes through the air with remarkable speed and slaps wetly onto the second, quickly searing its way through the animals fur, skin, and bone. It squeals terribly until its lungs dissolve and it collapses, spasming next the parts of its companion.

You all become aware that you are no longer working alone. The door to the temple of Kiri-Jolith tears open and a middle-aged man emerges. He's dusky of skin and dark of hair, and his left arm is in a sling. His left ear is a marred bump of flesh amongst scar tissue - what must have been a tremendous head would. His clothing is inexpensive and unremarkable. In his good hand he swings a morning star, which he uses to stop the last rat nearby from getting past him. While he's blocking the animal's path
Falkrahn buries his sword in it. The man smiles and gives an awkward salute. "Well done, young man," he says a bit too loudly.

Down the street are two city guards chase one last rat down an alley, their spears jabbing as they shout in a language none of you understands. The standing rat-catcher kicks away the bodies and kneels next the wounded man, as does the woman. Both are dirty and scuffed up, but not badly hurt (the beefy man by dint of toughness; the woman due to plenty of natural padding). "Help! Oh, Gods help my husband," the woman cries.

Combat ended.

Emongnome777

2014-11-29, 07:08 AM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

Falkrahn is about to respond to the man that exited the temple, but the woman's cries stops him. Turning around, he sees the wounded man on the ground. He briefly nods to the fellow before turning and rushing to her side. Kneeling, he assesses the badly wounded man on the ground. He drops his sword and shield on the street and places his hands on the man's shoulder and begins whispering a prayer. Soon, healing magic passes from Falkrahn to the man.

Cure Wounds: Heal [roll0] hit points.

Edit: Really? I've now rolled two 1's for my first two d8 rolls. :smallfrown:

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-29, 11:00 AM

The pale, sweaty man's eyes are bulging and unfocused in pain and the panicky woman holds his shirt and paws at Falkhran's arm as he kneels next to her. The young man calls on the favor of his deity and within seconds the shattered bone melds and the ragged injury knits shut.

The man's shallow breathing evens out and he relaxes in ease. The woman is frozen in happy wonderment and blubbers at the cleric."Why ... oh, my goodness. Sir, oh, oh, young master, oh ..."

The man from the temple is likewise surprised. "Why, and you're a proper cleric, too? You should come in and speak!"

The town guards reappear, dragging their target by its tail, and additional guards arrive in the next few minutes, men and women, nearly a dozen of them. A heavily-bearded man with a sergeant's emblem on his arm quickly sets everybody to task securing the street and getting statements. He asks - politely but sternly - for each of you to speak with him for a moment, asking for names and where you are from, and how you became involved in the events here. While a little suspicious and intrusive, he also thanks each of you for doing the community a favor. "The people of Sanction appreciate your help. Please tell me who you are why you acted here." His eyes keep going back to your obvious weaponry/magic accouterments. Other guards are taking names as well, but appear more comfortable with local residents, many of whom they know by name.

Saskia

2014-11-29, 02:44 PM

Brynhild looks to the loud, apparently wholly inattentive man in disbelief. She wonders if he's actually mentally deficient. "Bist du behindert?" It doesn't even occur to her to ask him in his own tongue, as she's more wondering to herself than asking the man she's addressing.mm

Without waiting for a reply, she turns her attention to the man addressing them. "Brynhild of Daewar, Sergeant." She salutes in the dwarven tradition, but wonders if he's more accustomed to different form. "We acted because it was our duty."

Stormageddon

2014-11-29, 03:34 PM

Asheli

Asheli satisfied that no danger is near retrieves the arrows from the rats. Wiping the blood off of the arrows on the dead creatures fur.

My name is Asheli, and I did so because I have a debt to pay.

Emongnome777

2014-11-29, 11:21 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

Falkrahn watched as the man's wounds start to heal. In that moment, his heart finally slows down enough where he can hear what's going on around him. Before that, all he could hear was the low roar of his heart pumping, rapid breathing and general rush of blood to his head. If he appeared calm, it was only because his face and body could not process the near overwhelming shock, fear, and (dare I say it) excitement of the moment.

Falkrahn wordlessly nods to the woman next to him, barely able to hear her. He stands up slowly, suddenly stiff from kneeling down, even for only a few moments. He hears the man from the temple speak to him, but the term "proper cleric" didn't make sense to him. The standard leadership chain present at any sanctioned temple of Kiri-Jolith meant there would be at least a half dozen individuals far more qualified than him. "Perhaps I thought too harshly of them at my earlier visit", he thought briefly. He wanted to respond to the man, perhaps apologize or take him up on his offer to speak, but he was interrupted by the (late) arrival of the town guard.

Suddenly realizing he was an outsider to them, he turned to a guard near him eyeing him with some trepidation. He sheathes his sword and slings the shield on his back casually before bowing slightly to the guard and saying, "my name is Falkrahn Ironhilt, humble servant of Kiri-Jolith. I am here on a pilgrimage and like the others, lent aid where aid was needed."

King Tius

2014-11-30, 09:07 PM

Ladon does a literal jump for joy, throwing a fist up into the air as his acidic glob hits home and letting out a triumphant "Got one!" Once all the rats are dead and it becomes apparent that the man is in real pain, his mood takes a nosedive as concern knits his brow. While his friends and family back home might call him even-keeled, he is still a gnome and seems to switch moods far too quickly for anyone of sound mind. When the sergeant questions him, Ladon can't help but throw an awkward salute, though he quickly pulls his hand down and shoves it into the pocket of his robe.

"Ladon Sparklegem, at your humble service" he says proudly, bowing low. "I've been waiting for the chance to show off my magics...what better way than when it's helpful?"

Gorgon_Heap

2014-11-30, 10:34 PM

The sergeant, whose name you learn in Altrus, jots quick marks in a small book with a bit of sharpened charcoal and nods at each of your remarks. He double-checks the spelling of your names but otherwise seems to simply do his job with practiced professional detachment. The guards ensure everyone else in the area is safe and secure, including the rat-catchers, but turn to him for an answer about the dead animals and quite large overturned wagon.

Altrus glares at the wagon with the weary distaste of any lifelong civil servant and asks the rat-catchers if they’re well enough to dispose of the corpses themselves, and then calls his people and volunteers. He orders the horse be untied, moved and retied to the wagon's side. Between the horse and the dozen people helping, the wagon is quickly righted, though it’s damaged. “That’s a damned thing,” he grumbles, turning to one of his people. “Fetch a wheelwright. Maybe Chensit.” He says to the rat-catchers that as they do city business the city will pay for the wheel.

He then says to you lot, “Again, thank you for your help,” and sort of storms off with most of the guards, telling then to get back to their posts. Two remain to monitor events here.

During all this the rat-catchers (actually named Jervis and Nayda Highhill and Grunnit Blackrock) are traumatized but excited to have been saved by a bunch of armed combatants, a wizard and a true cleric. Nayda offers any of you nearby get a stream of weepy thankful bluster, clutching at sleeves and yanking you close for wet cheek-kisses.“Oh, goodness, yes, oh my. This is such a wonderful gift to us! Thank you thank you … oh, I must tell all the family about this terrible tragedy and the heroes who came to our rescue. Oh, my poor Jervis!,” she wails, clutching the scrawny man’s balding head to her expansive bosom. The weariness he expresses with his eyes is more than skin-deep.

The street is slowly cleared and you are left to yourselves, though the man from the temple would like Falkrahn to come speak with him when convenient.

OOC: You can do what you like. Speak with people at temples or worksites, whatever. If you declare character actions I’ll happily interact, bringing in more NPCs and things going on. If you want to paraphrase I’ll do likewise and skip ahead about a week.

King Tius

2014-12-10, 09:36 AM

Ladon mentally scolds himself for not bothering to learn the mending cantrip and makes a note to acquire it at his earliest convenience. He takes Nayda's accolades (and busty embrace) with a huge smile on his face. Nobody's ever called him a hero before! "He extricates himself from the woman's cleavage and motions towards the rats. "Those things were HUGE! How do they get that big? Are there more of them you need help with? We gnomes have to keep moving, you know, and that was probably the most fun I've had in months!"

Gorgon_Heap

2014-12-10, 10:12 AM

Jervis and Grunnit wearily get tools, cages and rope-poles back onto the wagon bed as a suddenly cheery Nayda answers Ladon all the while fussing about with his hair and straightening the hem of his blue robs. "Oh, them were mountain rats. Dunno what makes them so big, but sometimes they wander down looking for food or trying to outrun a lava flow and hole up wherever they can fit. Tricky business sometimes; leave'em or catch'em? If they're hungry enough they'll eat the regular rats, but too hungry and they'll start on cats, dogs, and little people," she re-musses Ladon's hair affectionately but quickly realizes how undignified that is and gingerly pats it back into place a second time. "Goodness, 'scuse me. The least I can do for you lot is share a nice meal, since you seem to be travelers. No inn fare for you tonight. I'll be making potpie," she adds proudly as the men carelessly toss heavy, limp rat bodies back into the wagon.

Meanwhile the two remaining guards, a man and a woman with the dark hair and ruddy skin of locals, and both bearing a spear and wearing a leather doublet over a chain shirt, go about their business in a detached way, chatting about a weekly card game.

Emongnome777

2014-12-10, 09:57 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

Falkrahn watches Landon getting fussed over with some amusement, before he remembers the man from the temple and his request.

Nodding to that man, he says, "I'd be happy to speak with you. My name is Falkrahn Ironhilt. Please tell me yours," as he lets the man lead him back to the temple.

Gorgon_Heap

2014-12-11, 11:35 AM

"I'm John of Sanction. Just that," says the scarred man with a sad smile as he leads Falkrahn through the anteroom to one of several closed doors he noticed before. It's an office, though practically unadorned. There's a shelf and a desk and a small table, books and a large footlocker, and a beautiful longsword mounted lovingly on the wall under a split helmet. It's of an old, unusual design and has a number of small spikes along its brow-line.

He sits and invites the young man to do the same. “From Solamnia, eh? Just get here recently? I’m happy you’re here. I know it doesn’t seem like much the temple, but I do what I can and when others are about its more lively. You see, most priests and soldiers stop in for respite and prayers and then bound off again on some task, leaving me the only one willing to stay by and mind visitors. But I’m only an old soldier myself, not a priest. You’ve god the god’s magic and bear his holy symbol, so you’re the real thing even if you are wet behind the ears.

“If you’re staying in town for a while I’ll be happy to host you in prayer, studies and – hopefully – some actual services. But I’ll understand if you don’t have the time. Nobody else does. So what brings you to Sanction?”

Stormageddon

2014-12-11, 01:10 PM

Asheli

I would be grateful for a home cooked meal... It's been a long time. I'm looking for work you know anyone in need for someone with a certain skill set, miss Nayda?

Gorgon_Heap

2014-12-11, 02:01 PM

Jervis helps her up onto the seat and Nayda looks thoughtful. "I don't know anybody needs bein' shot at, but old Mister Mesko has been looking to have his shoes re-soled," she says cheerfully. She provides their address and waves as they ride off.

Stormageddon

2014-12-12, 01:24 PM

Asheli

Asheli smiles haplessly and waves good bye with a promise that she will see her later tonight, and follows the priest into the temple.

Emongnome777

2014-12-12, 11:30 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

Falkrahn follows John and Asheli and listens to the soldier tell about the transient nature of most temple visitors and his (lack of) qualifications. While he initially thought scornfully of the temple and it's (at the time unknown) keeper, Falkrahn feels now pity. Pity for John's situation, but also some respect.

Standing, he says, "good sir, John, I am honored that you have taken it upon yourself to be the caretaker of this temple. I'm certain it would've been abandoned, looted, or possibly destroyed were it not for your sacrifice. The high priests in Solamnia will know of what you have done here."

Falkrahn sits down before continuing. "I would be delighted to lead some chanting and readings from the sacred texts, but feel inadequate to lead a full service. In fact, from the code, I'm not qualified...." He smirks slightly to himself before continuing. "I will do everything that I can to help."

"Oh, you asked why I was here, but I'm afraid I don't know myself. I was guided to come here by my god when I was meditating. I questioned it, but was again called to come here a few weeks later. Add a few months for preparation and travel, and here I am. I wish I could tell you more."

Falkrahn nods to John and takes a step toward the door. "I need some time to rest and prepare, but I'll be here at dusk for the chants and readings. See who you can bring along."

"One last thing before I leave. What is the significance of the sword and helm on the wall above you? They caught my eye."

Gorgon_Heap

2014-12-15, 02:26 PM

John waves away Falkrahn's praise. "Oh, I’m no ‘sir,’ and it's no sacrifice. Nothing better for an old soldier than keeping busy and supporting his brothers-in-arms." He seems unsurprised at the young man's unwillingness to commit to leading services - you get the impression he's heard it before. But he becomes wary when Falkrahn speaks of visions. "You should be careful. A god taking a direct interest in your business can mean a lot of trouble."

Though John looks curiously at Asheli, her chill stoicism doesn't welcome any questions and he assumes she's simply Falkrahn's guide in the strange city, saying as much when he invites you both to return.

At the last question, John turns and looks at the items as if he'd forgotten they were there. "Oh, these? Just mementos of a past life."

You note the sword looks quite expensive, and you'd rather like to come back and take a closer look ... in private. There's nothing special about the broken helm, though you know the design and small spikes are far more common in this region than in Solamnia. In fact, John is short and broad, tan skin and dark hair, and his accent is familiar.

That evening the lot of you attend to whatever you like, returning for prayers or dining on delicious (suspicious) pot pie.

OOC: You spend the following week doing business as usual – fill in the blank here. I can make some assumptions, but would rather hear it from you.

IC: Early one morning you sit about the common room with three or four other guests breaking your fast. A honeyed porridge seems to be filling, popular and warming in the chill weather. The owner of the Cat – exactly the gossipy old woman you’d expect to own a house full of cats – explains apologetically that serving porridge helps save more satisfying fare throughout the leaner winter months, but she won’t refuse a request. “I have eggs, of course, but I’m trying to pickle plenty of them for the next few months,” Miss Givener says in a wobbly voice. “You never know when circumstances will make food scarce, so I like to be prepared – Oh, my.”

Three men walk through the door, shutting it quickly to keep out a cool breeze. Two are city guards. The third is a dapper, severe-looking bearded man, who opens his cape to take in the room’s warmth, revealing exceptionally tailored clothes in blues and browns. His eyes take in and toss away details rapidly. He strides over to your table without hesitation. His voice is a smooth baritone but he speaks quietly. “Gentlemen, ladies. You are masters Sparklegem and Ironhilt, and mistresses Bearhunter and Asheli. I am Bisrenem Craney, councilor to the governor and lady of Sanction. I hope I find you in good spirits this morning. Your presence is requested at the Governor’s Mansion. I am early. I’ll give you some time to finish and dress yourselves, but I would appreciate haste.” There’s nothing threatening about his words or tone, but he clearly feels his even talking to you is something of an honor. The guards with him are ready and attentive.

Emongnome777

2014-12-16, 02:17 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

----- The past week -----
Falkrahn spent the next week wandering around town (with others or alone at times), but more time was spent at the temple. He led some services, even saw a spike in attendance (15!), but it dropped to six the next day. Such is the life in Sanction. Otherwise, he instructed John on how to properly decorate and maintain a temple by code. Falkrahn didn't expect much to change anytime soon, but it was worth the effort.

While alone, he contemplated his purpose here and thought not a small amount on what John said about Kiri-Jolith taking interest in him. Falkrahn figured either he dreamed the vision or it was from an avatar of some sort. He never believed it was for some grand purpose as those went to the Knights, which he could never join.

----- Today -----
He awoke with a slight sense of dread. He was glad to get to help at the temple, but it felt somewhat hollow. He wanted to do so much more than lead chants and readings, but tried to stoically accept his current responsibilities. He made he way downstairs and was glad to see his new friends there as usual.

He noticed the visitors when they entered and briefly turned away until the lead person's attire and posture gave him away as someone important. He looked down at his food and continued eating, assuming that these people are here for any reason but them. To his surprise, the stranger approached them without hesitation, declaring that him and his friends were invited to the governor's house. In the shock, Falkrahn almost forgot his protocols and immediately stood up (almost too fast, nearly tipping over his chair). Placing his right fist over his heart (hoping it was a customary show of respect in Sanction), he said, "M'Lord, you honor us with your presence. I will prepare at once." Ignoring the rest of his porridge, he bows to the councilor and strides purposfully toward the stairs to his room.

King Tius

2014-12-16, 04:55 PM

Ladon spends the previous week nose-deep in books at the temple library. He donates a silver piece every day he's there, hoping to make a good impression while avoiding bankruptcy too soon. His studies turn up little in terms of magical usefulness, but he does read quite a few interesting tidbits of history, especially about Sanction. When he's addressed as "Master Sparklegem" he can't help but sit up straighter. At the mention of the governor's mansion, Ladon picks his bowl up and tips it towards his face, using his spoon to shovel the porridge in as fast as gnomely possible. He ends up getting bits of porridge all over himself, which he notices way too late to make a difference. He looks at his soiled clothes and laughs giddily as he stands up on his chair to let his robes fall more naturally. With a quick chant and some overly-dramatic finger waving, Ladon casts prestidigitation. Once the spell is active, he makes brushing motions over his clothing like he was sweeping away dust from the air. With each pass of his hand the flecks of porridge on his clothes disappear. When he's finished, he puts his hands proudly on his hips, looks Craney in the eyes, and smiles broadly. "Ready when you are, Sir!"

Saskia

2015-01-03, 01:44 PM

Brynhild's week is spent working tirelessly for her new employer. Smithing is tough work, but dwarves are tough, and Brynhild has never met a dwarf tougher than she. Apprentice or not, shaping steel and iron to suit the needs of the community is a trade almost sacred to her clan and just proximity to the forge brings her joy and focus, if not much in the way of an income. That'll come with time. The repetitive clash of a striking maul against hot metal is like music, music to which she happily and unendingly sings old and not-so-old work songs of her people and her clan, cracks jokes, and of course watches her master carefully. She hunts in much of her spare time, in part because putting food on the table makes her stay cheaper for her master, in part because she's interested in getting a feel for the lay of the land surrounding Sanction, and in part because learning what is legal and illegal to hunt and trap and where might offer insight about the city and its leadership.

And, as long as she's going, she asks Asheli if she's interested. She could probably learn something from her, anyway.

When Craney calls for them, She lifts her cup and nods in acceptance and quickly downs the rest of her food. Rats, boiled flour... It's true, humans will eat anything. Not that dwarves haven't got their own bland, flavorless traditional foods, of course, but she briefly wonders if the reason she's never seen this in particular has more to do with the beards of her kind's menfolk than the texture or flavor.

Gorgon_Heap

2015-01-06, 07:57 PM

Obviously expecting a further waste of his time, Lord Craney seems pleasantly surprised when you take only a moment to finish up at the table. He graces you with a respectful nod. “Excellent. Please follow us.” He and his guards lead you from the inn into the chill air and around a corner what could charitably be described as circuitous. Those of you unfamiliar with the city wonder at the length of the trip, but Asheli realizes you are being led through a number of unused side streets for some reason.

You pop out of a filthy little alley barely five feet wide and are at the foot of a bridge spanning an old lava flow ditch. Over this you proceed among the massive estates, social halls and high class boutiques of Noble Row, which begins rising up the side of Mount Grishnor. This neighborhood strikes each of you differently – shoddy, indefensible construction; rich targets; poor imitations of the venerable elites of Solamnia; incredibly boring with nary a pneumatic device or steam engine in sight. The people here, all wealthy if not particularly well mannered, mostly ignore you, though they’re as wary of the gnome as they are courteous toward the man bearing a holy symbol. Many of them offer polite deference to Craney.

Finally, at the northern edge of the city – and probably its highest point – you enter a well tended wood that makes up most of the ground surrounding the palace, which overlooks the city majestically gleaming in solid white marble. Here are guardsmen, groomsmen, servants, horses, carriages, and knights and officials discussing Very Important Things you would all probably find very dull. The guards at the main gate come to attention and eye you warily but allow you to pass with a wave from Craney. He walks you into a side room, a waiting room or study, and says, “If you’ll please wait here. And refrain from touching things, if you can manage it.” His eyes take a quick visual assessment of the books, fine liquors, crystal glasses and comfortable accouterments appointing the room and steps away for nearly ten minutes. You can easily hear through the fairly average door that there’s at least one guard standing in the hall nearby.

If you have actions/want to talk in your follow-up posts, it happens during this lull, so please write with that in mind.

Craney returns abruptly. “The Lord Governor is busy with … state affairs, but the Lady Linsha would speak with you.” And without fanfare she walks into the room and leans easily on a writing desk, a welcoming smile on her face. Her skin is creamy white, her hair ginger with hints of gray, her clothing extremely utilitarian. Some of you likely heard of her before; this woman is a Solamnic Knight of the Rose Order who fought with distinction during the War of the One God, after which she settled in Sanction with her husband, Lord Hogan Bight. Anything else you may have heard is unsubstantiated rumor.

“Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope this isn't a great inconvenience, but something’s come up and I need the aid of some good-intentioned strangers with certain skills. I have a report from the watch that indicates that’s just what you are. Before I give you any details, I will admit that what I’m about to propose may be dangerous. This is an assignment of importance to the city, and I am offering a reward, but I won’t lie to you about the possibility of actual danger. Not just big rats; the wilds, the environment, and whatever else is out there in the mountains.

“If you aren't interested, I thank you again and you can take your leave.” She and Craney await your responses.

Emongnome777

2015-01-09, 09:11 PM

Falkrahn Ironhilt, Human Cleric of Kiri-Jolith

As the group was lead away from the tavern, Falkrahn silently berated himself for so quickly accepting the offer. This Lord Craney held himself in a manner consistent with the position he claimed to hold, but that was hardly proof. Nonetheless, he agreed, so he was willing to continue following. The trip was dizzying and he was lost no long after they started.

*Waiting Room*
Falkrahn nervously looks around the room before easing into the most sturdy chair he can find. He looks around at the rest of the group not quite sure what to say; so he says nothing.

*End*
The ten minutes they were in there seemed like much longer, so he was slightly startled when the door opened. He was positively stunned, though, when Lady Linsha walked in. He knew her, or at least heard of her. Falkrahn immediately stood when she entered (he would have for any lady that entered the room anyway) and remained standing.

He chose to answer first. "M'Lady, I am honored that I would be among those chosen to assist you in any way I can. I am at your service."

King Tius

2015-01-12, 03:12 PM

During the ten minutes of waiting Ladon does his best to look at/appraise everything in the room without actually touching it. He's not scanning for anything particularly valuable and certainly isn't trying to cause trouble; he's just fascinated by all the fancy objects which are obviously important. Otherwise, why would he be told not to touch? Unless someone talks to him explicitly, he keeps himself perfectly occupied.

Picking up on what Lady Linsha is asking, Ladon bows politely and asks pointedly: "What's in the mountains that's so important to the city?"

Saskia

2015-01-12, 03:39 PM

Brynhild smiles and chuckles at the "Lord" Craney, seeming more to play the part of the fussy butler, fawning over booze and silver to ensure the unwashed rabble doesn't pilfer them. She shoots a glance around the room and asks, "Hmm, yes, I do declare," she says in a pompous interpretation of Craney's voice. Her eyes roam the room, searching for what he might object most to her touching, and settles on moving a bottle to the other side of the table, deciding it was the lowest effort she could put in trying to irritate him. Something about the man rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe that's in their natures; of those accustomed to privilege, there exists only the motivation to maintain, never to build. The smug air that his time was so very valuable in the first place seems uncommonly irritating in light of the obvious delaying tactic dragging them half across creation. There's really quite little more off-putting than a man unctuous in one breath wasting your time with the next. "Hope the gov's better than his houseboy, mm?"

She's quite pleased though, when somebody of esteem comes to greet them. She stands unconsciously at attention before the woman about whom she's heard more than enough to respect, and nods with Falkrahn, and Ladon drew the question from her own tongue.

Gorgon_Heap

2015-01-12, 05:26 PM

Asheli stands silent and looming like a dark hole in the corner of the room. She says nothing - which doesn't strike any of you as unusual - but she does seem ... agitated? by the surroundings.

As Brynhild enacts her small form of civil disobedience against the ruling regime, Ladon's eyes take in the details of all the little - and presumably expensive - items in the room with curiosity, but they're otherwise incidental. There are a number of volumes on the shelf, however, though by their titles they have nothing whatsoever to do with science, engineering, the biological processes of exotic moths, the buoyancy of heavy metals in fluids from water to dragon spit, or really anything else an enlightened gnome might dedicate his life to.

But Lady Linsha has a warm and fairly laid back demeanor, especially compared with Craney, who's standing rigidly near the door. She grins and accepts Falkrahn's respectful words graciously. Nobody objects or leaves the room, so she infers you all agree to her proposal. "Oh, well, generally speaking everything. But really what I need is messengers to get through the mountains. Skilled folk who can handle themselves but who aren't obviously employed by the city. Otherwise I'd just send some of our own people. I've got a very important document that needs to make it safely through - or around - Neraka to the city of Teyr. We've had it ready for days, but time is wasting and I'm afraid the longer we wait the greater the danger it will be discovered. We'll give you a stipend for the journey and I can make sure you're paid when you get there or compensated when you get back. But if at all possible I'd like you to leave tomorrow."

Saskia

2015-01-12, 09:27 PM

Brynhild isn't entirely familiar with Neraka—not that she's intimately familiar with Sanction—but she's heard stories of their black-hearted and tyrannical orders of knights from her great-grandfather. He'd killed a handful, but she'd heard it often that no warrior was a fifth the man Old Bjorn was. Truth be told, the thought excited her, even if the prospect of fighting, or more rationally evading such knights was unlikely to end in her favor. She grasps her belt to give her confident hands rest and nods again. "Neither snow, nor rain, nor gloom of night, Frau Linsha. Goblins and weather and the like aside, what are our threats? Assuming the worst, is aught like to give chase over it?"

Gorgon_Heap

2015-01-13, 12:53 PM

Linsha answers readily. "Well, miss, uh ..."

"Bearhunter," Craney says crisply.

"Sorry. The point is you should be well on your way before anybody knows about it. Actually, nobody should know about it either way."

Saskia

2015-02-01, 04:06 PM

Apparently she's being coy about who might oppose them. In any case it would probably be nothing more than minions; if she's reticent to say more, there's probably a reason.

"Brynhild", she says clearly, talking over Craney; not intentionally so much as because she isn't one to wait on others to introduce her.

"Then we should leave presently. Will you supply us with horses or a wagon? Or should we join a caravan?"

King Tius

2015-02-02, 11:22 AM

Ladon claps his hands together and hops excitedly. "Sounds like fun! Who are we to bring this message to once we reach Teyr?"

Gorgon_Heap

2015-02-05, 03:01 PM

Linsha was surprised, then thoughtful. "Joining a caravan is a good idea. They each head north up the road and then turn east for Kortal. But they're organized by merchants and caravaners. I have no idea when the next may be leaving. And what I'm worried about is information or rumors here in the city, not how fast you get to Teyr. We'll give you 25 steel each for provisions. What you do with it is up to you. It's more important you leave soon than arrive quickly. If you get my meaning.

"Go and make your plans. When you return, hopefully no later than noon tomorrow, Craney here will give you the message and a seal that will get you a meeting with our ambassador in Teyr. The ambassador's residence is on Claymore Street."

Craney seems to have small purses containing the money already in hand. Linsha seems willing to entertain more questions, but you suspect by her furtiveness she has other matters to get back to.