Tales from the Well [IC]

[Velvet Elvis]

Dugby

This time, Dugby receives the sarcasm for what it is, chortling under cover of a scratched chin.

"And he looks to be only about half your age. That should make your day."

Taking a draft of ale, he slides back in his seat, relaxed but somewhat pensive as he wonders silently where Darryn is. It would be a shame not to have him back on the team for this one, but perhaps it made sense. He didn't take the loss of his kin very well, though he tried to keep it buried after the initial outburst. It would be understandable.

Another draft is slowly swallowed as Dugby returns to the moment.

[Cogito]

Wroen

Wroen takes one of the mugs and drinks silently while Althan and Dugby are joking around again. Then he stretches out his hand towards the large man.

"I'm Wroen, also new in this... group."

[Bigmac]

Yergal grabs his cheese and ale, one in each hand and follows after Dugby. As he reaches the table he gives the smalling a quick nod and a fearsome smile. When Wroen extends his hand, Yergal slaps his own hand against his chestplate with a resounding thud. "Yergal." He then grasps Wroen's wrist with a frim grip and nods to him as well. He turns to the table, still standing and looks towards Dugby. You Dugby? I am Yergal. Son of Hrothmer. Kin of dragons. Champion of Drandor. Marked by destiny. Forskaen of Seren. What is it you would have of me?"

[Maurkov]

The bard, seated in the dark beside the stage, begins playing a tune on a recorder. He hunches over the instrument, elbows on knees, face down turned, totally focused. Those nearest start to quiet down, and the effect widens like ripples spreading across a pool. The piece is simple and short, but as he reaches the end he begins it again, this time adding counterpoints. A third time, now, and a third voice enters. He plays recklessly, with furious abandon. Fingers, instrument, breath all seem inadequate to the music he conjures. It's beautiful and horrible, like watching a airship crash. He lurches to his feet, tearing the instrument from his lips, and with it points at the stage. At her.

She stands at the edge of the spotlight, an exquisite drow. She's not looking at him but disdainfully surveying the crowd. She walks through the spotlight and across the stage as if she'll have no further part in the spectacle, but even this simple movement is enthralling. She was made for this. Before she can reach the edge of the stage, the bard sweeps his arm down and begins to sing.

"Dance, girl, here before me. Dance with passion...."

She tosses her pale silver mane, and the ripple down her hair is echoed by a ripple of her body. She turns and effortlessly leaps away, turns again with a crescent kick, head high. His song is commanding. Her dance evasive.

"The ice gets colder as the heat increases. You'll have to crawl... before tasting her kisses."

He climbs onto the stage. He song becomes entreating, her dance seductive.

"Where there is smoke, there is also fire. Wherever she is... there is desire."*

She dances near, and though she never touches him, there's an uncomfortably voyeuristic element in addition to the visceral one. She dances further away and his song becomes plaintive. She exits off one side of the stage, and he the other.

Spot DC 12:

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Four drow at a nearby table take a keen interest in the dancer. One writes something down.

From the same Spot check, DC21:

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The writer holds the paper near the floor, where it is taken by a small animal, perhaps a weasel. The weasel keeps cover as it scampers off and heads for the door.

One used to drow knows that they tend to twitch and fidget. These sit very still as the woman dances.

((*Lyrics stolen from 80's euro synth-pop. Artist and song title escape me at the moment.))

[Cogito]

Wroen

(OOC: Spot at Bar (1d20+8=26))

Wroen arches an eyebrow as he sees the drow before he shrugs and returns his gaze towards the dancer, now less entranced with the woman than before.

[fendrin]

Darryn

It is at this moment that the leather flaps on the door give way to a lanky young man of moderate height. He is dressed in simple traveler's clothes, and carries nothing but a well used leather pack on his back. He is also completely wet.

He shivers a bit and wipes his chestnut-brown hair from his face, revealing two blue eyes. If it weren't for the look of utter annoyance on his face, he would be quite attractive. Oh, and of course, being soaking wet doesn't help.

Darryn stares at the dancer for a moment, then, shivering again, looks around the room. Spotting his old companions, he nods in greeting and walks over to them, leaving a watery trail as he goes. His boots make a distinctive squishing sound as he walks.

He pulls up a chair from an adjacent table and sits in it backward, Resting his arms on the back of the chair. "Hey fellas, how's it going?" he looks over at the two new faces. "So these would be the new folks. Pleased to meet you. My name's Darryn." His eyes narrow a little and turns his head back to Dugby.
"From their looks I'm guessng neither of these two men are mages. I told you we need a mage! Oren only had a few cantrips, but still it was better than nothing.

Shivering some more, he reaches into his pack and pulls out a large woolen blanket "This would be the first time I've wished this place were warmer."

character sheet

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Darryn Colherth
NG Male Human Artificer 3
Exp: 3150/6000
Str _8(-1)
Dex 12(+1)
Con 12(+1)
Int 16(+3)
Wis _8(-1)
Cha 16(+3)

Hit Points 15/17 = 6(lvl 1)+8+3(con)
Action Points 5/6
AC 15 = 10+1(dex)+4(armor)
Touch 11, Flat 14
Init +1
BAB +2, Grap +1
Speed 30' (base 30, light load ??/26, light armor)
Fort +2 = +1(base)+1(con)
Refl +2 = +1(base)+1(dex)
Will +2 = +3(base)-1(wis)

Standard Attacks
|+1 melee_, Club, 1d6-1 B__, ___20/x2
|+3 ranged, Club, 1d6-1 B__, ___20/x2, 10'r

Speaks Common, Draconic, Old Elven, Giant

Skills (32pts)
|Concentration_______ +_7 = 6(ranks)+1(con)
|Craft(Armorsmithing) +_7 = 4(ranks)+3(int)
|Decipher Script_____ +_4 = 1(ranks)+3(int)
|Disable Device______ +_9 = 6(ranks)+3(int)
|Know(Arcana)________ +_5 = 2(ranks)+3(int)
|Know(Architecture)__ +_5 = 2(ranks)+3(int)
|Know(The Planes)____ +_5 = 2(ranks)+3(int)
|Open Lock___________ +_7 = 6(ranks)+1(dex)
|Search______________ +_9 = 6(ranks)+3(int)
|Spellcraft__________ +_9 = 6(ranks)+3(int)
|Use Magic Device____ +12 = 6(ranks)+3(cha)+3(feat)

Feats
|Legendary Artisan____ [Human]
|Extraordinary Artisan [Level 1]
|Scribe Scroll________ [Artificer 1]
|Brew Potion__________ [Artificer 2]
|Skill Focus(UMD)_____ [Level 3]
|Craft Wondrous Items_ [Artificer 3]

Class Abilities
|Artificer Knowledge (+6)
|Artisan Bonus
|Disable Trap
|Item Creation

Infusions
|Lvl1 4 DC14 *
|Lvl2 2 DC15

[Cogito]

Wroen

"Wroen."
The ranger is still following every move of the dancer, and barely notices Darryn's remark about nedding spellslingers. No, I'm no mage."

[Velvet Elvis]

Dugby

Having listened patiently to the barbarian's lineaged title, Dugby responded simply. "We need you to swing that sword and not die while doing it. I won't ask if you think you can do that; the answer is written on your face. Why not have a seat and relax a bit while we see if this night's entertainment is enjoyable or not. We'll get down to formal business a bit later."

Dugby watches the dancer and listens vaguely to the bard, his song being of far less interest to him. When the two exit the stage, he takes a draft of ale, and says, "Not bad. Better than the magician, and a damn sight easier to look at. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've always wondered what it'd be like to..."

The druid's lascivious train of thought was interrupted as Darryn finally made his appearance.

"Well, there he is! A dramatic late arrival; I should have expected that. And yes, these appear to be our new men, assuming the charter is to their liking. So, did you decide to swim the Thunder Sea to get here this time?" His approach to Darryn was markedly different than that to Althan, being far more low-key, as if he adapted his social talents to the temperament of the one being spoken to. He still inserted a quip, which seems to be a common conversational aspect for him.

OOC

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Spot - (1d20+2)[11](13)

[fendrin]

"Hah, very funny. 'Swim the Thunder Sea'. No, some sailor or other just thought it would be fun to kick the gangplank loose while I was crossing it. By the Host I hate sea travel! I swear next time I'm going to splurge for an airship pass."

[Bigmac]

Yergal seems a bit displeased that Dugby doesn't want to get business out of the way. He remains standing at the table, not wanting to adjust the huge sword on his back so that he could sit in a chair. He shifts his weight onto his back foot as he begins to watch the performance. As he watches, he turns so that he can keep the Drow on the very edge of his peripheral vision while welcoming the newest member of he group. Not sure what to do, Yergal give the man a silent nod when he introduces himself.

When the man begins to speak about airships, Yergal feels compelled to speak up. "The skies belong to dragons. I would not venture through them."

[The_Lonely_d12]

Althan

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Spot check (1d20+4=14)

Drinking from the human sized tankard given to him and admiring the view atop the stage, Althan is absorbed wholly into the thought of enjoying the moment of now as long as possible, when he notices a group of drow near the stage, and their actions. Wondering just what exactly happened, he is distracted by Darryn's sodden entrance, and sits for a moment, thinking of just how he wanted to greet him. With Dugby taking first move, he at least has a few moments to think about it, and says to him

"Hullo there, Darren. You're looking well, and a little underdressed, if memory serves. Also, why an airship, so when they kick the gangplank on you, you'll at least stay dry? Although, I have to say, flying is definitely my preferred method, when it has to be done."

[Velvet Elvis]

Dugby

Dugby chortles at Yergal's remark. "Don't let any Lyrandar hear you say that. Bad for business."

A glance back at the stage changes the subject. "Hmm...well, it looks like that was the extent of the show, so I suppose we can get down to the business at hand. Since we have two of the three spots dealt with, I may have to put out another notice for the third, but it's only a contingency position, so we can do without it."

He takes what is obviously the last draft from his tankard and slides the container to an out of the way edge of the table. A moment later he's drawn out a scroll which he unwinds, clipping the ends to the weighted rollers so it remains open on the table, then withdraws a pen from a slot in one of the rollers and dips the nib into a small depression in the opposite roller.

"Alright, this charter has not been amended or modified since our last expedition," he says to Althan and Darryn, "So, it's up to you if you wish to reread the whole blasted thing." Dugby's already halfway through laying down his signature at the top of the open area by the time he finishes his words. When the last sweep of the trailing letter in his surname is drawn, he lays the pen across the charter and slides it to Althan.

He then turns his attention to the two new men, "I suggest you both read this document so you know how things are expected to work. Generally speaking, we adhere to the intent, but make final decisions on what we need to do when a situation faces us. It is more a pact between us, as members of the company, than a strictly legal document. We have never had a need to call it into play in any court, and we don't wish to change that. Remain honorable, use your wits, and don't underestimate the value of cooperation in these jungles, and we shall each profit nicely."

Dugby's small speech was completely out of sync with the light demeanor he's so far exhibited. His intensity clearly illustrates that he values integrity and honor above most else and demands it from the entire company. Besides, lack of either has decimated many expeditionary teams in the past years, and none of those teams returned much profit from dying.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Althan

"I'm fine, thank you-I'd hate to have to laugh at you again if I read the whole thing through. I'm heading up for a minute, before anything serious starts. I want to check on Gix, bring him some food."

With that, Althan signs away very simply the name "Althan", and hops down with the remainder of his food (a rather large and sumptuous looking piece of meat), and begins to head upstairs to the entrance.

[fendrin]

(responding to Althan)
"Underdressed? What... oh I get it. Well, I sold my armor. You'd be surprised at what a market there is for used but functional gear there is in Sharn. As for the rest, I've got a new toy." He pats his pack. "So much more convenient and much lighter."

(reponding to Dugby's spiel about the charter)
"Actaully, I have a bit of a confession to make. When I filed the charter last time, I made a few... alterations. Well, one anyway. I, well, removed the last paragraph. Joke it may be, and all in good fun, but this IS a legally binding document. Also, just as a reminder, and for the new folks, my skills are available at cost while in town, subject to my discretion of course."

[Cogito]

Wroen

Wroen takes the parchment and begins to read it in silence. From time to time he looks up at Dugby before returning to the parchment. When he is through he reads it twice more, takes the pen and signs.

"And what might your skills be?"

[Maurkov]

Spot DC 23

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The weasel's back.

The bard returns to the stage to accept applause, and with some encourgement, the dancer comes up as well. She's wrapped herself in a gray cloak, either against the chill or for modesty. They bow, and she tries to slip away again but he hangs on to her hand. He says, "We're heading to Sharn, so if any of you are in the area, I hope you'll come see us again. I'm going to play a some more now, but I'll tone it down a little. Don't be afraid to have a conversation or get something to drink. If we're lucky, Lahara will dance again later." He looks adoringly at her.

One of the drow has stood up. His hair is cut asymetrically, chin length on one side and much longer on the other. He wears a cloak over carapace armor. He calls, [Old Elvish]"You don't belong here. Come with us. Come back to Erilorn."

Lahara wants to be anywhere but there. She pulls free of the bard and makes for the edge of the stage.

The drow takes another step forward. [Old Elvish]"He wants you back."

She freezes, then turns to face him. She gestures, extending a pinky upwards and pointing with her thumb at the second knuckle.

The drow gapes. His hands clench into fists and he begins striding towards her. Someone in the crowd stands up to block his path, but in one smooth motion he draws and fires a hand crossbow. The man stiffens and drops. Two more drow from his table have stood. A third remains seated.


((Althan is a the top level, still on his way to feed Gix. I suppose it's time for initiative. My imagination has surpassed my mapping skills so I'm having a little trouble showing the layout. I'll try again tonight.))

[Bigmac]

Yergal

Yergal makes no move to read the document or even look at it. He seems to simply ignore the charter altogether, despite Althan and Wroen's interest in it. Hopeful that no one will say anything he instead takes his cup and finishes it's contents before calling out to whatever staff might be near, "Bring me some more!". Despite his attempts to ignore the charter, his body language reveals that he sees it as something dangerous, trying to keep his distance with objects or people between him and it without leaving the table or area altogether.

When the bard comes back Yergal gives the man and his lithe companion his full attention, thankful for a distraction. Stuffing the rest of his cheese into his mouth in case anyone was going to talk to him he gazes lustfully at the dark skinned dancer. Yergal gives an amused look as the two elves converse in a strange language. Even he could tell that the man was upset by whatever gesture she had made. He'd have to remember it. At the first sign of violence Yergal's face brightens up with a fearsome smile. He gives a loud cry as he springs into action.

Yergal darts from the table, his powerful legs pushing him faster than most in such heavy armor. He moves between the drow and the stage and smiles as he says, "You go no further"

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init=10
Yergal will ready an action to try and grapple the drow if he tries to move past the barbarian. If the drow instead tries to attack him with a weapon, Yergal will go on full defense.
Touch Attack = 19
Grapple Check = 18
damage = 6

[Cogito]

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Spot.2 (1d20+8=24)

Wroen
Wroen's eyes flick back towards the Drow while the bard is talking and grips his bow tightly, an arrow ready in his other hand when he hears what they are talking about.
When the fight begins Wroen remains seated, watching the still sitting Drow with interest.

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Knowledge(Local) (1d20+6=16)
Have I ever seen the guy before? If so in which context?

[fendrin]

Darryn

(responding to Wroen) "A craftsman of magical goods. An armorsmith as well, though my skills in that area have, ah, atrophied of late."

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initiative (1d20+1=18)

Darryn reaches into his pack and pull out a paper scroll.

"Of course, there's not much point to being able to create magical goods if you can't use them"

Calmly unfurling it, he reads the contents aloud.

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UMD scroll of Web (cl 2) DC 22 (1d20+14=28) oh, forgot +2 for artisan bonus, so actually a 30... aimed at the table of drow

[The_Lonely_d12]

Althan

Hearing the beginnings of an altercation, though he doesn't quite know what of, Althan makes a quick decision. Having left his main weaponry with the saddle and pack, he rushes outside, leaves the plate, and grabs his trusty Tangat, as the lengthy Sharrash might do more harm than good in the close quarters. He dashes back to the bar.

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init (1d20+2=3) Well, someone had to go last.

[Velvet Elvis]

Dugby - Init=20

Wroen's question was about to be answered, but it was entirely derailed by the drows' disturbance.

Dugby mutters under his breath as he stands, his seat falling back to the floor behind him, "I suppose we'll find out..."

He grabs for the pendant hanging from a thin gold chain around his neck. Gripping it in one hand, he steps to the side, and hunkers down behind an adjacent chair and the table, putting them both between himself and the drow.

Once there, he begins to intone ancient druidic phrases. With his head tilted slightly downward and one hand forming half-visible gestures, he appears almost as if imploring his god to keep him from harm. His eyes, however, aim themselves at the drow, their intense stare hidden by his lashes. The words issue in a strange cadence that does, in fact, sound much like a prayer, "Ia lytsem is, isereat so is sat, ias rie it lia ait lov, itsyt syht lok ilodylyt...."

OOC

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5' step around the edge of the table away from the direction of the drow, taking cover there, and beginning Summon Nature's Ally II spell. Trading in a Flaming Sphere spell for this.

[Cogito]

Wroen

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Initiative (1d20+3=13)
Ready action to shoot at the sitting drow if he does anything to join the fight.

[Maurkov]

This will get us started. Expect refinements-- like labeling the grid. The origin is (0,0).

That's Althan up north. Most of you are sitting; it's a move action to stand.

Drow Init: (1d20+1)[7]

[Kirnon_Bhale]

Jardin

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Initiative at the Well (1d20=5)
Please can Jardin be placed originally 3rd table in on the right from the exit - if this precludes him from casting at into the rucus then I will change his action also depending on the initiative of the drow because if they go before him he will instead cast at the newcomers that look like they are headed through the door.

A previously unnoticed [but devilishly handsome] Gnome with a scoll case at each hip steps forward to block any escape from the area I am sure the authorities will appreciate keeping death to a minimum, keeping clear of the grease that has suddenly appeared and anyone obviously involved in any sort of melee. Nice! Crowd control he thinks to himself.

In old elvish and quickly repeated in common he calls at the top of his voice: "Everybody stop where you are!"

[Maurkov]

<text to follow.>

[Maurkov]

Dugby begins casting.

The bard draws a rapier, and he and Yergal both move forward to intercept the drow. The drow's still seated companion utters a spell and the front of the stage is slicked with oil. The bard slips. Lahara doesn't.

((Yergal, Ref DC 14 to remain standing, then a balance check to act; you have 10' of movement left (entering a greased square costs double) and a standard action remaining.

Those who are delaying need to let me know when they stop.))

((Retcon. Yergal gets his action point back.))

[Cogito]

Wroen

Seeing the mage casting a spell, Wroen aims quickly and shoots the readied arrow before drawing another one from the small quiver at his belt.

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Attack (1d20+6=26)
Confirm Critical (1d20+6=25)
Damage (3d8=14)

[Maurkov]

It's becoming chaotic. Lots of people are shouting and starting to get up from tables.

Wroen sees the wizard begin to cast and shoots him through the head, pinning him to the wall. Yergal intercepts the moving drow and commands him to go no further.

The moving drow stares at Yergal. [Old Elvish]"Another hero. Pathetic." He draws and attacks in one motion, and seems slightly surprised when his attack goes wide. One of the standing drow gestures, and darkness envelops the party's table. The other shoots at Yergal (missing), discards his crossbow, draws his rapier and advances.

On the top floor, four more drow enter, weapons drawn. One stops in front of Althan and darkens an area nearby. One makes it to the ramp and assess the situation. Two circle towards Jardin.



((Next up:
Jardin
Althan
Dugby
Darryn
Wroen
Yergal))

[Cogito]

Wroen

Wroen searches his way out into the light again (moving left), and then gets into point blank range of the nearest Drow, and aims at him.

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Should there still be an action left.
Attack (1d20+7=11)
Damage (1d8+1=7, 1d6=4)
If not, I'm using this for the next round.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Althan turns towards the closest Drow, and lays into him with his Tangat.

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The drow close to the entrance, mind. attack roll (1d20+6=16)
damage-add 2 damage if counts as favored enemy (1d8+2=5)