A Monster for Every Season: Summer 2
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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    Marlowe's Avatar

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    Default Southern Comfort IC

    The morning is as clear as could be wished for. The sun is shining, the birds are singing like the silly young fools they are, the dew has not yet faded from the leaves. The mountains to the north shine like ivory. It is the last week of spring.


    You stand are in the sacred grove of Whitewater Rip, which, against the urges of barbarian cliche, is actually a quite well-built (if largely wooden) and permanent town which would not disgrace a small trading town anywhere. Amongst the oaks and ashes are the carven images of the gods of Your People. Thor has a comradely arm on Loki's shoulder. Loki looks embarrassed. Sif is staring at the pair of them with the expression of one who's not going to say what she's thinking. In a well-meaning and totally misguided attempt at religious open-mindedness, images of the Imperial gods have been added to the grove. Odin and Fharlanghen appear to be glaring at each other suspiciously, Wee Jas looks bored, and someone appears to have recently used the image of Hextar as a urinal.

    Freya and Hel are absent from the grove. Their images guard the north gate of the town with their signature longswords. Freya looks as though she hasn't had time to find a decent robe. Hel is presenting, as people who think they're funny say, her Good Side.

    The town is prosperous from trading with the Imperials to the north, and is an easy days travel to the mountainous, fjoid-cut coast to the west. This is as close to civilization as you've ever been.

    Your heads still a little fuzzy from the previous night's feasting, you await the arrival of the town's Shaman to present the traditional Your People farewell. Which usually takes the form of "Are you STILL here?"

    ((feel free to chat for a bit while I wrestle with stuff. OOC is here))

  2. - Top - End - #2
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Grath mostly stayed out of the way during the festivities last night. Knowing his temper, he kept himself to only a gallon of freely flowing ale during the feasting. He awoke at dawn in his tent just outside of town and donned his clothing and armor. In a practiced manner he dropped his tent, folded and packed his gear, and prepared for the day.

    He wandered into the sacred grove, knelt at the feet of Kord, and waited for inspiration to see what the day would bring.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Psyren View Post
    So now you're claiming that spellcasting "lacks a clear, supernatural element?" Being supernatural is literally the only point of magic.

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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    I stayed out of most of the festivities, sticking to water to drink and eating my fill but avoiding social situations as best as I could. I take a walk around town to see whats going on in the aftermath, see who or what I encounter.

  4. - Top - End - #4
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    HalfOrcPirate

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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Horbin, would have partaken in the drinks and food as well as any others. He can hold his own but does get rather sloppy in the late hours. His hangover pushing him to hate the morning he would look around at the others with a blurry haze.
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    Yuri

  5. - Top - End - #5
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Gregor McAlister

    Lying down in the grove and looking up at the sky Gregor was contemplating about past and future activities in addition to his main current activity of lying down enjoying the place, the weather and all that with his dogs doing mainly the same. Most of yesterday's party time Gregor considers well-spent (especially the time spent ogling, winking and otherwise making passes at Delphi), but pissing at that Hextor... with all of the dogs following the lead... well, he would agree that was a bit too much and hoped no one will fix onto the issue...
    Last edited by u-b; 2012-06-19 at 08:41 AM.

  6. - Top - End - #6
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    The sun shon upon the sleeping brow of mighty Korgoth causing him to stir from his dreams. Opening his eye he soon realizes that he cannot move either of his arms and he looks to both sides. Discovering that two women lay ontop of his arms he smiles to himself Ah, last night was a feast to remember praise Thor in all of his slendor and glory! Hey one of them even has all of her teeth, truly an auspicious and kingly gift granted by Thor!

    Still groggy from the massive intake of mead, Korgoth tries to ponder a solution to release him from his present situation. Amidst his thinking he remembers that he hasn't seen Skuz yet and so using his limited vision his searches for his companion. Luckily the party animal was passed out just slightly over to the side; Korgoth recollects his friend also getting drunk and also him giving a piggy back to Skuz... wow what a party. Not wanting to disturb the lovely sleeping damsels, Korgoth spits out a mighty loogy that races out and strikes its target. Skuz stirs and looks up irritably to find Korgoth motioning him over with that thick skull of his.

    Skuz slowly gets up and walks over to his friend to better evaluate the conundrum Korgoth had gotten himself into. The mule then proceeds to move to the lady on the left and gently nuzzle her arm which successfully caused her to roll over and away from Korgoth.

    With one of his massive arms free, Korgoth himself rolled the other one over carefully and soon freed his other arm. Standing up he felt a cool breeze on his body, thinking it odd he looked down and discovered he had no pants! Frowning he tried to remember where they were but it was a futile attempt. As if reading his mind, Skuz walks away and comes back bearing the man's pants in his mouth as well as his tunic. Offering thanks to his most loyal companion, Korgoth dresses and exits the barn he was sleeping in.
    Blarg...

  7. - Top - End - #7
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Grath:
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    You feel warm. You get the feeling that Kord really likes it here. So much competition. Then you hear a voice ring out behind you. It formed words, it must be a voice.


    Marn Ortul:
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    The town is collectively still nursing its hangover for the most part, but some citizens are up early and preparing for the days more family-friendly celebrations. Today is officially the day the Whitewater stops becoming a roaring torrent of meltwater and becomes a broad highway to and from the north, and citizens are looking forward to traders so they can get rid of all this useless gold dust and amber and gems and valuable hides and junk and buy something uselful.

    Some maidensyoung womengirls adolescent females of various races are chattering together in the town square, occasionally practicing dance steps, wearing neck to knee-length dresses somewhat rudely dyed with wode and plant juices. Next to them, some men are assembling a wooden platform while trying to make as little noise as possible.


    Horbin
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    A six-foot black-skinned white haired women wearing clothing apparently looted from every battlefield in the last forty years steps past you and shouts something at the Halfling lying on the ground. You don't really register what she says. You just know it hurts.


    Gregor
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    "Well, I'm glad one of you has some sense to get some proper rest before the big adventure!" says a voice like a scourge hitting chain mail. "Some of you have already wandered off. Well, we'll start the moot without them" The voice apparently belongs to a tall, dark-skinned women, elderly but still quite spry, dressed like a vengeful ghost and casually bearing a shortbow.

    You're not so full of admiration with the setting that you don't recognise the town's head Shaman, of the spirit variety. Her name is Olga or Ilga or something like that.

  8. - Top - End - #8
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Korgoth:
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    As you depart, one of the maidens women sits up, yawns hugely, letting the blankets fall to her waist. In the light of the morning she's definitely a little Orcish around the eyes and jaw. And chest. You're not complaining. She looks a you a little blearily.

    "Hey, you know to get to the sacred grove? Ingva Soulflayer wants to have a little chat with you and your party before you leave."


    Others:
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    Let me know the circumstances of your post-debauch wakening, or I'll just assume you're with the party in the grove and stop with the spoilers.

  9. - Top - End - #9
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Grath, startled by the unexpected noise, quickly looks around without saying anything or moving. He is still trying to maintain a calm, cool demeanor in this town. He is used to prejudice based on his race.

    I didn't hear anything approaching, he thinks to himself. I still need to maintain a low profile, people might be grumpy with their hangovers, last thing I want right now is an incident to occur.

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    Spot check: (1d20-1)[10]
    Listen check: (1d20+2)[8]
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    Quote Originally Posted by Psyren View Post
    So now you're claiming that spellcasting "lacks a clear, supernatural element?" Being supernatural is literally the only point of magic.

  10. - Top - End - #10
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Grath: (Spoilers are just needlessly annoying right now) You push aside the moist leaves, and see a tall, dark, white-haired woman dressed in shredded and rent shreds of armour and cloaks addressing (,n a voice like mangled iron,the party gathered in the grove, which currently consists of Gregor, Horbin, and yourself as far as you can see. You have the feeling that the others can't be far.

    And everyone:
    "Listen well, all of you. That includes the Orc in the bushes, thank you. I am Ingva Soulflayer, the Ghost-hound of Whitewater, and I come to give you counsel and advice before your speedy departure. Here we stand in the north-west corner of the People's domain. To the north is the Empire, to the west the sea. Some of you have already travelled long from the south and the east, so I'm going to assume you're not heading in either of those directions." She spreads her arms heiretically. "Any questions so far?"

  11. - Top - End - #11
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Korgoth winces as the maiden speaks after he tried to not so stealthly sneak away, scratching his head he replies hurridly "Ugh... sure, I will get on that... definitely could have done better last night oh well, right Skuz?

    Moving quickly he finds his belongings and makes his way to the grove as he approaches he hears "Do you have any questions so far?" and without giving much though he swaggers out into the open and proclaims "Yes I have a question, do you have breakfast ready because I am famished, I could also use a breakfest brewskie if you have one love." He gives a winning smile and hopes that the ghost hound finds his antics charming or at the very least mildly amusing. As he waits for a reply he begins to put on his armor.
    Blarg...

  12. - Top - End - #12
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Gregor McAlister

    While Gregor *did* have a question of why the woman is telling the "news", he decided it would be for the better not to ask it, instead he just sat where he lied, expressing undeniable interest all over his face. The dogs seemed to listen too.

  13. - Top - End - #13
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    HalfOrcPirate

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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "Thats a big woman," Horbin lets out, "perhaps she could shut her trap!"
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  14. - Top - End - #14
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    The self-declared Soulflayer dips into her haversack with a flick of a free action and a slight rattle of bone on metal, then throws Korgoth a travel ration and a wineskin. Probably not containing wine. "For future reference, you should arm yourself more quickly on these mornings. Your longspear is suffering weapon shrinkage. Now." She sits crosslegged between Baldur and Heironymous, who appear to be ignoring each other.

    "As you might know, I got around a bit when I was younger. Also I travelled. To the south you might seek adventure, if you feel like fighting Orca to become kings and queens of the Penguin people. To the east there's a thousand leagues of back-the-way-you-came to enter the steppes of the Dog People. No. They aren't called that because they ride dogs, are half-dog, or keep dogs. They're called that because they won't shut up, they smell, and they suffer from fleas. To the north of the steppes there's the Plateau of Yamigul, said to be Demon-Haunted. I have it on good authority the Demons resent this insinuation bitterly and avoid going near the place.

    If you head west, you come to the sea before nightfall if you move quickly, and should be able to take passage on a trading dragonship. Maybe even charter one yourselves. If you do this, be wary not to stray too far into the western ocean. The Nicely-Painted Fleet of the Administrate patrols the outer ocean as far south as the polar ice, and is very particular about protecting their territory. Which they appear to define as anything they're looking at at the time. Do not under any circumstances stray within site of their towers. Landing on their soil would be...ill-advised."

  15. - Top - End - #15
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Korgoth smiles broadly at the mention of his 'longspear' and gingerly catches the trail ration and wine skin. He listens to the dronning of the woman and he indulges himself in his morning meal. After finishing he looks up with a raised eyebrow "Excuse me do you have a point to this story, or did you just bring us here to spin a yarn about your travelling days? As for getting around... that's a matter best kept to yourself milady, if you want us to randomly select where we go then my vote is north or south. The dog people are rather mangy for my liking and there isn't a lot of women and mead at sea..."
    Blarg...

  16. - Top - End - #16
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    HalfOrcPirate

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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "Yammering on, Yamigul sounds like a good a place as any," Horbin says holding his head with one hand.
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    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Ingva pulls out a pipe while Korgoth is speaking, stuffs it with something you hope is tobacco, and lights it with a sudden flash of flame. She holds it in her left hand, keeping the flame burning in her right. "Ah, the young Korgoth. Not Odin's Favoured Soul, I see", she breathes through blue smoke. Her eyes narrow as she leans forward. "This is the bit where you get to ask questions."

  18. - Top - End - #18
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Grath steps out of the bushes slowly and approaches those gathered. "What can you tell us about the Empire? Grath's village did not speak of them. Grath only hear rumors and murmurs."
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    Quote Originally Posted by Psyren View Post
    So now you're claiming that spellcasting "lacks a clear, supernatural element?" Being supernatural is literally the only point of magic.

  19. - Top - End - #19
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Ingva nods politely to Grath. "The Empire is a glorious tangled mess. There has not actually been an Emperor for two hundred seasons, and those for a thousand before that were wandering pretenders, adventurers, warlords who used a faintly justified title to put a bit of legitimacy to their reaving. Still, the states that make it up can still stick together against the outside. The Republic threatens, and The Adminstrate...abides. We profit by providing convenient heroes. And not attracting attention. I sometimes wonder how long this can last. I've seen things, read things, talked to things-" she breaks off smokily.

    "If you're after local specifics, the Imperial State directly to the north of us is the Margravate of Ashdown. We have good relations. We give them gold and things they think precious, they give us strong steel and workmanship. They are also often at war with their other neighbours, so they have a constant demand for people who are good at bashing skulls. I was a cornet-captain in their military, at one point. If you go along the border to the east, things between The People and the Empire are not so...convivial."

    As she finishes her speech, the flame in her right hand dies. It lasted, for those taking note, for exactly forty-two seconds.EDIT: No it doesn't. I messed something up.

  20. - Top - End - #20
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Gregor McAlister

    "So no robbing of Ashdowners. Got that. How much do they pay to their mercs? Is not it better to work for their private employers?"

  21. - Top - End - #21
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    I step out from the behind the bushes where I had been listening to the conversation.

    "I'm not picky as to where we go, I'm just exploring the world that is open to me, I'm here for the journey not the destination."

  22. - Top - End - #22
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Korgoth shakes his head "Either you're hard of hearing or just dense, I did ask a question to which you didn't respond. You are right, I do not serve the one eyed god but my god is just as wise and noble as any other. If you insult him again you will be treading on dangerous ground. My question was a simple one, you called us here, what was your purpose other than wasting our time?"
    Blarg...

  23. - Top - End - #23
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    Gregor McAlister

    "Hey, you! More respect to Shaman! I mean it."

    Gregor stands up. Dogs stand up.

  24. - Top - End - #24
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "Ashdown's standard rates, in my time, weren't anything to write home about. Although they gave you fifty percent on looted items which was where all the money is. And proper military support as long as you swallowed their line of duty-and-honour-and-tactical-co-ordination-and never give the enemy a sporting-chance aesthetic. They were reliable. Almost tediously so. They still send me fifty-one gp and a masterwork dagger every third summer.

    "Private employers, well. Up to your own judgement there. You can catch a windfall job, or you can get suckered into a death-trap for a fee they won't even honour. Or, you can find yourself tools of some plot. I do fear sometimes that there's certain people out there that find us somewhat predictable.


    EDIT: ((Because that was some quick posting))

    Ingva stands up and puts out a (still flaming) hand while breathing on her pipe, mismatched bits of torn martial array jingling. "Sacred Grove, fellows. I don't work through the gods, but I won't dishonour the house of my hosts. If Korgoth sees no value in my presence or words, that is his choice."

  25. - Top - End - #25
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Dardiana sits down on the grass, her head still a bit fuzzy from the drinking that she had done. It hadn't been much, as she always watches how much she drank, but it had been a decent amount. She spoke up, "I really don't care where we go. I'm fine with anywhere, as long as it's not back home."
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  26. - Top - End - #26
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    Ingva takes the pipe out of her mouth and gives Dardiana a look at that last words out of her mouth, but seems to decide to say nothing. "Well, then, my people", she turns to the north and holds her pipe out to that direction. Its mountains looks rather high.

    "The Imperial way, if you want, goes through the valley of the Whitewater. At this time of year it is as good as a highway, at others, it's roaring death or frozen, treacherous ice. The river cuts right through the mountains. The mountains themselves are dangerous even in the height of summer. Once through the gorges, it remains Our People's territory until it reaches the conflux with the Stahlmund, which marks Imperial territory. Or, maybe I should say, Ashdown.

    "The land south of the mountains and north of the Stahlmund is technically ours. Athough it is damned difficult for us to get to get to for much of the year. Ashdown does not persistently intrude upon it. It is called Redside and is a no-mans land.

    "The nearest Imperial town is two days from here, It is called Ethandun, and can be reached easily by following the Whitewater, then the Stahlmund. Further questions that deserve an answer?"

  27. - Top - End - #27
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "A cure for the hangover," Horbin chimes in before hefting his oversized blade onto his shoulder.
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  28. - Top - End - #28
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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "A cure for the hangover," Horbin chimes in before hefting his oversized blade onto his shoulder.
    www.eldeberon.com

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    Default Re: Southern Comfort IC

    "Ice water" says Soulflayer. "If that doesn't work, then a steam-bath, then a flogging with birch-twigs, then the ice-water".

  30. - Top - End - #30
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    Grath hesitates, then blurts out, "Will Grath be ... welcome at Ashdown? Grath is not often welcomed."
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    Quote Originally Posted by Psyren View Post
    So now you're claiming that spellcasting "lacks a clear, supernatural element?" Being supernatural is literally the only point of magic.

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