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Author Topic: (IC OD&D) Against the North.  (Read 5911 times)

Arkansan

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« on: February 06, 2016, 01:45:06 am »
After an arduous journey you have reached the outskirts of the settlement known as Grant's Keep. The town is surrounded by a sturdy wooden wall whose gates face south, while the inner keep walls are of packed earth and stone. Smoke from scattered cook fires dot the noon sky, dozens have made camp outside the walls of the settlement.

Though normally quite desolate the old dirt road leading into town is host to a slow trickle of foot traffic. Many others like yourself have made their way north to answer the kings call. Closer in to the gates stands a crier, "One piece gold for the ear of a goblin! Five piece gold for proof of bandits killed! Other rewards offered, see Sir Halter!" he bellows to those entering the town.

A handful of industrious souls have set up carts near the gates peddling whatever pitiful wares they have to offer to the new comers. An orange robed priest stands nearby offering his blessing in return for a small donation. Beyond lie the cramped streets and poor thatched hovels of Grant's keep.

Ahead of you lies the treacherous north, with it's rolling hills, sharp mountains, gloomy forests, and treacherous winters. Perhaps fame and fortune or an early and undignified end await you.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2016, 01:47:20 am by Arkansan »

Opaopajr

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #1 on: February 06, 2016, 04:06:29 am »
"I think I'll prominently display some arrows, javelins, and spears behind me in my shop as I work on shaping a club just outside the entrance. That'd get some extra eyes on my work as they walk our cramped streets." Gillibrecht throws this comment out to his neighbor with assumed jocularity.

"You may want to tell our neighbors to do the same, now we have all these newcomers in carts trying to make quick coin. We locals gotta show pride in what we got!" Pumps him fist in an attempt to inspire enthusiasm.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2016, 04:10:03 am by Opaopajr »
Just make your fuckin' guy and roll the dice, you pricks. Focus on what's interesting, not what gives you the biggest randomly generated virtual penis.  -- J Arcane
 
You know, people keep comparing non-TSR D&D to deck-building in Magic: the Gathering. But maybe it's more like Katamari Damacy. You keep sticking shit on your characters until they are big enough to be a star.
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mindcontrolsquid

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #2 on: February 06, 2016, 04:39:34 am »
Sander glumly surveys his surroundings; his mind's eye had envisioned Grant's Keep as a mighty bastion of civilization, a shining beacon of the glory of Midheim to light the way. The illusion is shattered once he perceives the cold, huddled, desperate souls crowding the fort. He begins to wonder if he can truly make a difference in such a place.

In any event, Sander resolves to seek out this Sir Halter and inquire about work. He lacks even a single coin to spend on amenities, having drained the last of his portion of the wealth of House Freiben to arm himself against the unknown horrors of the north. At least here, he reasons, he can take comfort that none realize the shame covering the name "Freiben" like a heavy cloud...

wrymspear

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #3 on: February 06, 2016, 05:55:17 am »
Esgalán takes a moment to cast a disapproving eye across all the gathered throng of humanity--do they even realise what an appalling stink they raise?

He approaches the Crier.

"Edain," he addresses the fellow tersely, "Pedig edhellen?" (Man, do you speak Elvish?)

---

OOC: Esgalán has a 5 charisma guys, so he can be relied upon to be a bit of jerk. Particularly when it comes to inter-racial relations ;)
« Last Edit: February 06, 2016, 06:00:16 am by wrymspear »

mindcontrolsquid

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« Reply #4 on: February 06, 2016, 07:16:48 am »
Sander cannot help but notice the elf and relishes the opportunity to practice his (no doubt quite broken) Elvish with him. He waves to the nearby elf and responds:

"Aiya! Carinyes! Elwe tulier, eh?"

{Hail! I do! We have arrived together, eh?}

Makofan

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« Reply #5 on: February 06, 2016, 09:49:19 pm »
Random sees the newcomers. "Hail fellows, it seems like me you seek adventure and reward before we starve to death. The name is Random, Acolyte of the Unicorn. I have armor and a stout heart, and would be willing to share both dangers and treasures with you"
 

wrymspear

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« Reply #6 on: February 06, 2016, 10:24:01 pm »
Ignoring the crude Man-babble of the Acolyte, Esgalán turns his gaze toward the bald fighting-man, noting the formidable harness of plate armor upon him. He could be handy in a tight spot, the Elf decides, and at least he speaks a civilised tongue--even if he does butcher it with his accent.

(All in Elvish)
"Hail, Man of Plates.  I am called Esgalán, son of Fergalán, and a further line of Warders of the Witchwood Realm.  What father's son are you?"

After Sander replies (and assuming the Crier has not yet spoken), Esgalán continues:

(All in Elvish)
"Pray ask this dolt," indicating the Crier with the slightest inclination of his eyes, "wherein are the nearest hives of goblins or brigands hereabouts, and what force of arms they present."


---

OOC: Does the ref prefer to play all this out, blow by blow? Or to post a bunch of more abstract instructions surmising our town time so we can get to the business end expeditiously?
« Last Edit: February 06, 2016, 11:20:15 pm by wrymspear »

mindcontrolsquid

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« Reply #7 on: February 06, 2016, 11:44:39 pm »
Firstly, Sander will respond to Esgalan in Elvish: "Well met, Esgalan son of Fergalan. I am Sander, son of Praximus, both of the once-great House Freiben. I am here to reclaim my family's honor and seek my fortune among these uncivilized lands. I shall make inquiries on your behalf."

He then turns to Random and bows. "Hail, good sir Acolyte! I am Sander of House Freiben; it seems that we and this elven sir are of the same purpose. He says he is Esgalan of the Warders of the Witchwood Realm; I confess that I am uncertain of what that means...still, tis good to find kindred spirits in this lawless place, eh? Excuse me a moment..."

Sander then asks the town crier for further news of brigandige or goblin incursions in the area as of late, and if Sir Halter might have any information thereof.

Arkansan

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #8 on: February 07, 2016, 02:07:27 am »
The town crier eyes Sander for a moment, "It is as it always is. Brigands ply the roads and trade to Stalf's Refuge has slowed to a crawl. Goblins pillage the outlying homesteads as they please, and rumor has it the barbarian warbands have been seen roaming down from their hillforts. Speak to Sir Halter for specifics."


(OOC: I think for this type of game it may be more expedient if each player posts their intentions in town such as gather information, look for a job, shop etc and I adjudicate it. I think if we go blow by blow on our town incursions we will bog down quite a bit. For this first posting I really just wanted to get the characters introduced to each other)

Opaopajr

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« Reply #9 on: February 07, 2016, 07:24:07 am »
Gillibrecht entices customers and sells thrown an/or missile weapons. When he can, he will ingratiate towards big spenders and repeat customers. Today is about putting his best foot forward for his store!
Just make your fuckin' guy and roll the dice, you pricks. Focus on what's interesting, not what gives you the biggest randomly generated virtual penis.  -- J Arcane
 
You know, people keep comparing non-TSR D&D to deck-building in Magic: the Gathering. But maybe it's more like Katamari Damacy. You keep sticking shit on your characters until they are big enough to be a star.
-- talysman

mindcontrolsquid

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #10 on: February 07, 2016, 09:05:21 am »
Sander will make further inquiries about work with Sir Halter, promising to inform his new friends(?) of any particularly lucrative-sounding opportunities.

Werekoala

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #11 on: February 07, 2016, 12:36:34 pm »
Bill takes in his surroundings, noting the various open-air vendors, loose packs, and distracted travelers.

"This will do." He thinks to himself, and sets out to find the local watering hole, in search of information and rumors.
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Makofan

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« Reply #12 on: February 07, 2016, 02:20:37 pm »
Randon tags along with Sander. Killing goblins for money sounds like easy work
 

Spinachcat

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« Reply #13 on: February 07, 2016, 06:33:39 pm »
Grunhilda the Triple Breasted enters Grant's Keep with a snarl.  

She walked the long road with ragtag travelers, trying to decide if it was safe to kill a few for their gold. Fortunately, she's more wise than bloodthirsty, so she held back her blades.

Ah, Midheim, a poorly cobbled kingdom considered "ancient" by the humans. Killing rats was easy coin, but the guildmember murders were arousing suspicion. In her youth, Grunhilda had once come to Frosthome as it was then known before the fool humans lost it to worthless goblins and savages. King Alfred's "crusade" was a good excuse to leave Midheim, especially after hearing how numerous northern villages were simply abandoned.

That was until Grunhilda peered upon the packed earth and stone of Grants Keep. Ugh. The fumbling work of ignorant hands. And those merchants? Could these peasants have have spent any less effort on their wares?  What is wrong with these humans? Don't their great grandparents teach them anything?

Oh crap, is that an elf? Just great.

Grunhilda listens to the braying of the Town crier. One gold per goblin ear?
Idiot probably doesn't know that's 2 gold per head. Five gold for a bandit? Hmm...maybe its time to backtrack down the road, slay a straggler, make it look like a fight and claim her "reward"?

But she's broke right now, and she's going to get hungry sooner than later.

First and foremost, she needs some coins. Grunhilda goes looking for someone to pay her coin upfront. Perhaps Sir Halter needs some ratting done? She'd even take sewer cleaning in exchange for beer and bunk.  

Otherwise, tonight she's going down the road to meet a "bandit"...

Arkansan

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(IC OD&D) Against the North.
« Reply #14 on: February 07, 2016, 08:37:00 pm »
Sander, Esgalán, and Random make their way to Sir Halter to seek further information. Fortuitous chance brings Grunhilda to the large traveling tent Sir Halter holds court in at the same time as the trio. The tent is set up directly center of the town square, the lingering stench of the town and it's rough hovels make for an unpleasant experience.

A pair of men at arms stand guard outside the entry flap. Bored and sullen looking the pair are obviously not locals, one of the mail clad duo nods his head toward the inside knowingly.

A small man in a rough spun red tunic sits rubbing his temples behind a battered oak desk, despite the daylight a small lantern burns beside an outspread map and a stack of paper. His pinched face peers up at the newcomers. After a brief exchange he relates the general situation, the north is largely a wasteland and the town is not set up to support the newcomers. First and foremost is needed a morale victory, something to make folks think the reclamation is worthwhile and to give gossip fodder for those back home.

"There is about a day and a half walk north and a few miles west of the road an old abbey. Once dedicated to Saint Stalf it's been a haven for a goblin band for sometime now. If you could bring something back related to the saint, a holy piss pot for all I care, or better still the head of the hobgoblin that leads them it would be a damned decent start."

"Stalf was the patron saint of and largely the tamer of the north long ago, anything to get his name on the kingdoms lips again would be good for the frame of mind I think. Better still it would get his majesty's council off my ass for a time."

Whilst the others are inquiring of Sir Halter about potential fortune Bill has set out for the local taverns, although there are a couple that seem "reserved" for locals one sticks out as being friendly enough to outsiders. The Wayward Wayfarer rests against the towns outer wall, just to the east of the main gate. A broad stone and timber hall with an out building and stables it seems inviting enough. Inside Bill finds a comfortable spot near the fireplace and after a bit of chatting (Consulted rumor table, passed Charisma check) hears that to the east a good bit lies the Tanglewood and within a elven keep called the Feyhold. Rumor has it that the lord of the Feyhold is hosting a tournament soon, open to all comers with all manner of prizes available.