“
Year 431 of the Imperial Age. It had been nearly 500 years since the armies of Ghul, the Skull King, the Half God, ruled the lands today under the dominion of the Lion-guarded Throne with armies born out of fire and darkness. In time, just as storms finally come to pass, so did this age of pain. The Great Empire of Tarsis rose out of its ashes, and peace came to Palastan. As the new city of Ptolus grew in the shadow of the Spire, rumours of great riches underground spread throughout the region. A new generation of would-be heroes made its way to the area, in search for gold and glory…”
– The Praemal Tales.
You have been waiting for quite some time now. How long it has been is rather hard to tell. The night is well advanced. It would be nigh impossible to spot the moons or stars in this wretched weather, anyway. You hear the rain slam against the roof of the inn, and occasionally see a sudden flash of lightning contrast everything in the room in shades of black and white. Water is pouring out of the gutters outside like dozens of small waterfalls drowned into an ocean of wind and fury.
Nice welcome, to be sure. You wonder if this is usual weather for the area. Whether you arrived to the city gates, were thrown out of a tavern after some trouble was stirred, or you finally made it to port through the storm, none of you could really escape the very common surprise visitors express once they spot the Spire. It is so tall, so huge; it dominates the landscape in such a way as to make it impossible to miss, even in this awful weather. Had you been able to see beyond the heavy clouds now covering the sky, it would still have been imposing enough to hide a great number of celestial bodies from your sight.
Lightning again, followed a few seconds later by the very low growl of thunder rolling high above. You remember making your way to the city. You remember spotting the camps of various delvers scattered throughout the landscape, away from the Imperial eyes guarding the fortress of Dalenguard and the Church looking upon such activities with a patronizing disdain so characteristic of Lothian’s prelates. Some of the constructions were already made of stone, some using ruins left from the times of Ghul to build around a home for themselves, while others started from scratch, using the characteristic mix of stonework foundations and lumber for upper levels that made Palastani houses so distinct. There were of course many tents around as well, most of them owned by newcomers who were, like yourselves, called to that part of the world to strike it rich, and fast.
That’s when you found the kids. Or rather, that’s when they found you. They were little beggars sent to search for volunteers. Dangerous job, they said. Everything would be explained once you met the boss. A warm meal and fresh ale would be provided.
You followed them, and that’s of course how you ended up here. In this tavern, or chapel, judging by the coloured glass above your heads – what was the name again? The “Gold Ladder”, was it? You can easily figure out why the “Ladder”, judging by the enormous 20-foot wide hole in the floor behind the bar (what’s with all the ropes and equipment stored near that well, exactly?). As for the “Gold” part well, you sure hoped the coin would be there to prove it.
Everything is clean and pristine here but for a thin layer of dust covering the tables and counters. It doesn’t seem like the tavern was ever open, though it does feel abandoned for some unknown reason. It is too nice in here. Too damn quiet. You throw a look at your chaperon waiting like you for his boss to come back. A geriatric dwarf with a long white beard and ice cold blue eyes, as it were. He seems weary and tired, though you can see he is hiding it to make it seem like he would be able to take you all in a fight if he had to. Ah! Dwarves: the more these guys grow old and weak, the more they stay the same.
You keep on waiting, and look at the assortment of “heroes” gathered in this room…
DM: Please describe/introduce yourselves and indicate roughly where you are standing in this room (“near the bar”, “by the southern door”, etc. have a look at the map below). You can talk to each other if you want to. You are currently waiting for the inn’s owner to come back from an errand. The very old dwarf here is waiting like you are (he is standing behind the bar, near the well), all the while keeping an eye on you.
If you have any question, don’t hesitate to ask them in the fresh OOC thread I just created. Game on, people! Click on the map for a higher resolution
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Ptolus/AD&D Threads on the RPG SitePre-game ChatPlayer CharactersExperience PointsOut-of-character thread #1Out-of-character thread #2People and Places of PtolusIn-character thread #1 - The Gold LadderIn-character thread #1a - DelbaethIn-character thread #2 - Underground (part 1)In-character thread #2b - Limbus SanguineumIn-character thread #2c - Limbus Sanguineum ReduxIn-character thread #3 - Back to the SurfaceIn-character thread #4 - Davin's Arrival