[IC] The Awakening, Group 2

[firstclassmail]

You find yourself in Mudhaven. The Empire's occupation of Purea is in full swing. Due to the rebellious nature of its inhabitants, the Empire has decreed that no one can enter or leave Purea save for sanctioned reasons. Because of this, multiple shanty towns now cling to Purea's outer walls like moths to a flame. Except there is no flame. Just mud, and lots of it. People seeking the protection of the city, and those looking for work were stuck outside and created these refugee villages. Most of the impromtu buildings of this refugee village are made out of clay and whatever could be found at the time. Robberies are common, resources scarce. The only work available comes from the Empire's legion which has regular work for those willing. When there is work, a great bell is rang in the middle of Mudhaven, and then the fortunate souls that are chosen by the notorious Captain Thresh have some money for food for the night.

Despite its poverty, some smart entrepreneurs have erected several services, although the quality of service is shabby at best. There is a makeshift Inn, with an outdoor bar area called the Witch's Broom, a couple food stalls, and a small wooden church to Pelor. All weapons and armorsmiths are owned by the Legion, and work day and night to restock the Empire's army.

Recently, resources are even more scarce because of a tribe of kobolds intercepting trade carts and merchants. You find out that another food shipment has been stolen, and soon the village will run out of what meager stocks it has.

Out of boredom for the night, you make your way to the Witch's Broom. The absolute stench of Mudhaven fills your lungs, but the flowing ale keeps it at bay. The warm wind blows across the outdoor bar, and the wooden tables and stools are occupied by all kinds of rag-clad peasants using their little coin to try and forget the plight they are in. The busty dwarf barmaid seems quite busy, and the stoic human bartender is missing an eye. There are some elven travelers in a group at one table, eating some bread and apples. At another, larger table is a group of Empire soldiers, clearly off duty, and quite drunk.

Spoiler: Spoiler for ALL

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Lets have at it and let you guys figure out some info, and possibly meet each other.

[Filtro]

Rajiir walked straight to the counter to engage the bartender in conversation. "So hey, how's tricks, man? Anyone around with problems needing solving in exchange for some coin? Also I will have a pint, please. Thanks."

The Half-Elf waited for a response and for his drink, thinking I can't wait to get out of this dump.

[Sir Shadow]

Tragedy is what brought Hunter Valen to this ramshackle refugee town. Where pain and refuse collect, the undead are bound to arise, and in times of trouble, the church is hard-pressed to concern themselves with hidden threats when the needs of the living are so apparent. Goblins raiders were of little interest to him, though if he found the hunt lacking here, he may put his skills to other uses... After all, coin is coin, and even he needed to eat.

So far, such was the case. He had seen few signs of undead where he had looked, but it was only his first day here. A careful touch was necessary, after all, when moving in Empire territory; A raised cowl could only go so far to obscure his elven heritage. Though the refugees were a melting pot of races, it was not hard to notice the strong Empire presence, and the last thing he wanted was trouble with the living.

Still, those with a kind word to spare pointed him toward the Witch's Broom to slake his thirst, but upon entering, Valen couldn't help but wonder if their intentions were pure; the place was a dump. Given the state of the area, though, perhaps this was the best he could expect. He gracefully wove through the boisterous crowd and danced around the barmaid to reach a seat at the bar somewhat removed from the larger groups of patrons.

He waved the bartender with a raised hand when he managed to get his attention, "Ale... Wine, if you've got it."

[HopeHubris]

"Ha, you don't want someone like that solving problems, he doesn't even have armour"
Vincent announces, as he enters the tavern
"You want a great and powerful adventurer like me, I've slain many a dragon with this very blade"
Calling his sword to his hand via his Swordbond and brandishing it to punctuate his sentence.

"And no drinks for me, need to keep in top shape for all the dragon-slaying and what-have-you, but I will takes some food"

[Corlindale]

Chareth hesitantly crosses the treshold and enters the tavern. Dressed in stainless dark brown travel robes, he seems out of place in the crowd. His left boot lands in something slimy and undefinable, a look of extreme distaste on his face.

He scans the crowd intently and several of the patrons visibly grow uncomfortable when his gaze lingers on them. His expression is grim, but he seems to brighten up briefly as he notices the Imperial soldiers. His look quickly changes to disapproval when he notices the sheer number of empty beer mugs in front them, however.

He notices the commotion at the bar and his eyes visibly widen in astonishment as he gazes upon the men arguing there.

He moves to the bar, stepping very carefully to avoid staining his clothes further.

"Surely there is no need for such a competition. I am certain that the good citizens of this..." (he hesitates a split-second before continuing) "...fine settlement will be elated to accept help from everyone willing to do their part. In this difficult phase of transition, we are all required to help facilitate matters to the best of our abilities."

The speech sounds rehearsed and is delivered without much passion or expression. He pauses, seemingly lost in thought. Suddenly his thoughtful look shifts to undisguised astonishment – for the first time since entering the tavern he actually looks his young age: ”Did you really slay a dragon with that sword?”

[HopeHubris]

"Of course I did, it was huge and green and breathed fire. Terrifying beast, until I cut its head off, anyway, only way to make sure they stay down, that is. "
Happy with this story, though he knows nothing about actual dragons, neither should the average peasant.

"There probably aren't many quests worthy of a great adventurer like me in this area, but I guess I can share... So, barkeep, my good fellow, are there any vile creatures in the area that need a good slaying?"
He asks, remembering the stories he had heard as a child
Innkeepers know everything about jobs and monsters in the area, the hub of adventure they are, in the words of the great swordmage

[GPuzzle]

All of a sudden, a rather unimposing figure, resting at a stone column, lances a glance and speaks to the group of magic users that are on the bar stools.

"So tell me, why would you come to the hellhole that is Mudhaven, Mr. Great Adventurer? We're all here for a reason."

As he turns his head, he takes a quick glance to see whether or not he can steal someone there.

Spoiler: Check!

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Can I make a Streetwise check to see if there's anyone who looks drunk and vulnerable enough for me to steal?

[HopeHubris]

"I was just passing through, and figured I should offer the locals the opportunity to make use of my incredible prowess, what is your reason?"

[GPuzzle]

"I live here."

[HopeHubris]

"HA! As good a reason as any, I don't suppose you know of any pressing missions, quests, or adventures in the area?

[GPuzzle]

"I think that maybe all of you don't understand what goes around in here. This is a hellhole, forgotten by all who once protected us. This is where humans become truly human. Where we give in to our most basic instincts. To hide away through usage of things that give us pleasure. To submit ourselves to the easiest way available. To go against all reason and logic."

He slowly raises his hood, revealing an intricate rapier near his belt, which without the handle would look like any vagabond short sword.

"I'm not a paragon of glory or anything like that. I'm already guilty. But the only adventure here is what we live day after day. It's still more interesting than life in the palace, though."

[Sir Shadow]

The elf silently sipped his drink. It seemed like sitting at the bar was a poor decision on Valen's part. He should have assumed that the least populated place would soon fill with loud people. He stretches his neck in annoyance letting the his neck pop. Listening to the half-elf he can't but roll his eyes and mutter under his breath, "Imbecile..."

However, the man that soon engages him gains his attention for an entirely different reason... Valen checks his purses and clutches his cloak tighter around him.

[firstclassmail]

The bartender stares incredulously at the group assembled before him.

With those damn gates closed, we get all kinds of sorts here I suppose. Maybe if I talk to them they won't cause trouble.

He quickly puts a toothy smile on and grabs drinks for those who ordered them.

"Glad you all could come to this fine establishment, fine establishment it being," he says with a thick accent.

He looks squarely at Vincent and says, "I'm not sure what dragons you be killing around these parts, save for those dragonborn killed in the war." He gives a quick glance to the soldiers at the table, and turns quickly back to the party gathered.

"If you all are looking for work, I've got some valuable information about tomorrow's morning bell. That is, if you have some extra coin for a poor soul."

[firstclassmail]

Spoiler: Valen Only Spoiler

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Valen Only Spoiler

Your keen elf eyes can see nothing more in the bar that you didn't see when you walked in.

You do however sense that the bartender is telling the truth about his little secret he is willing to sell. The "dragonslayer" is clearly lying through his teeth.

[HopeHubris]

"Exactly how much coin are we talking? I wouldn't want to have to pay in order to help out you and the townsfolk"
Vincent asks, thinking
(That, and I'm almost broke)

[Sir Shadow]

Valen almost snorts as he sets his cup down, "Whether coin or time, some form currency is required to serve those in need." The elf stands before passing his hand over the counter and deftly leaving five (5) gold coins neatly stacked in its wake, "... and if you wish to gain, sometimes the pump must be primed."

[Corlindale]

While I agree with the dragonslayer that offering payment to help seems like a curious transaction, I suppose we must try to respect local customs. I trust you will put the gold to use in aiding this community.

Chareth places a small pouch (10 gp) on the table.

[GPuzzle]

"You know me, Adrian, and you know the budget's tight as always, like yours. Can't I help you, I don't know, making sure the undesirables stay out?"

[firstclassmail]

Adrian's eyes bug out of his head as he sees the gold laid before him, and no sooner did his arm reach out, swift as a praying mantis, and the gold was gone. He looks up at those adventurer's assembled before him and puts on the biggest grin he can.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, didn't know we had such fine folks here! Shotha, grab these gents some of our finest ale on the house," he yells at the barmaid. As she scampers by he gives her a quick slap on the bum.

He beckons for you to lean forward, and as you do he gives a quick glance at the guards to make sure they are outside hearing distance.

"So, tomorrow's bell is going to be a big one. Surely you all know about the kobold raidin our caravans and such. Soon we might not even have any food! Captain Thresh is gonna be here personally. He's going to offer a fine sum to anyone who can take care of this kobold problem. If you go sweet talk those guards over there, maybe spread the coin out a bit more, they might put you all at the front of the line. Maybe. If not, don't come looking back at me!" he says all this in a rushed hushed whisper.

The barmaid comes back from the stores and pours all of you the finest ale that Mudhaven has; almost bearable to even drink. As she comes back from outside, several of the village folk give you all a good hard stare, wondering how you came on such gold.

[Corlindale]

"Interesting. Well, I'm sure those fine gentlemen will have no objection to our inquiries."

Chareth approaches the group of guards. He still eyes their beer mugs rather sceptically, but makes an attempt at a smile anyway.

"Glory to the Three and a good evening to you. It is my understanding that a number of the people assembled tonight are interested in helping with any problems this beautiful new colony might have. Certainly a testament to the special kind of devotion to the Empire we want to encourage in our new citizens! We heard there might be some minor trouble with kobolds - and since there is a real dragonslayer among us, I'm sure we will have no trouble with a gang of their feeble kin. So... could you perhaps tell us how to get in touch with your captain?"

[Sir Shadow]

Valen feels the urge to slap himself in the face. Though no social butterfly, even he knew that was not the best way to sidle up to a group of drunk guards. He gives the bartender a look of exasperation, but he doesn't say anything for now, instead keeping to himself and just watching how the soldiers respond... Meanwhile, he'd make his own plans for loosening their tongues in the event that this ham-fisted approach failed...

[Filtro]

Rajiir waited patiently, enjoying his drink, for the outcome of this discussion.

[firstclassmail]

The group of guards immediately stop their revelry. A look of confusion spreads across their faces as someone praises the Empire with such adamant words. One of them pipes up, "Listen bub, we're just having a good time here on our night off, could you give us a break?"

One of them murmurs, "bloody peasants...", and they all laugh and return to their drinks.

[HopeHubris]

"Peasants? You are calling me a peasant? I am a great adventurer and dragon slayer!"
Vincent shouts in mock outrage, he has an image to protect after all, even if he hasn't had a proper adventure yet

[Sir Shadow]

The elf groans and leans further over his drink, trying to distance himself from the pair. Valen was curious to see how long the man would keep up this ploy, but it was already becoming a tad ridiculous, "He's probably never seen a dragon, let alone tickled one with that sword."

[Corlindale]

Chareth shrugs and leaves the soldiers to their drinks. He decides that his first impression was correct. Clearly they must be locals hired on temporary duty, no true soldier of the Empire would treat a loyal citizen this way.

He returns to the bar, out of earshot of the guards: "It seems we must find this captain ourselves. I suppose we could try to bribe them, but if they are truly honest servants of the Empire that would only offend them."

[Sir Shadow]

Valen raises an eyebrow at Chareth's remark, not sure if they were familiar with the same Empire or not. Either way, he will wait until the antics die down before he makes his move. "They're here to drink."

[GPuzzle]

Matt spits his beer on the floor when he hears Chareth talking, and cannot hold a laugh.

"You guys know life even less than I thought you did."

[Filtro]

After patiently waiting for a while, Rajiir speaks "Has anyone managed to find us some work, already?"

[firstclassmail]

Upon hearing the commotion from the guard's table, and Vincent's incessant proclamation, the barkeep comes over.

"Oh, so sorry to have these blokes disturb you, have a round on me", he says to the guards.

After distributing some drinks on the house, the guard's murmur dies down, and the barkeep approaches you once again.

"Not a very tactful group, eh?", he says somewhat mockingly, "because you gave me so much coin, I'll get my ale wench to send Captain Thresh a gift for you. Tomorrow morning, at first light when the town bell rings, he will distribute some work, as usual. I'll make sure you all get put on the best assignment, the best! I'll also accommodate you in my fine Inn for the night, if you so desire."

The barkeep smiles.

"Any group that shells out that much gold in one sitting surely is worth keeping around", he thinks to himself.