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    Default The Sunless Citadel, IC

    Some of you may have come for adventure, others for the coin, and some are there because your company sent you there. Either way, you are now sitting in the favorite of all gathering places, the tavern. There are several people moving about, waitresses carrying trays of fine beer, the fire roaring at the hearth. The inside of the Inn contradicts with the dreary weather outside, which isn't surprising, after all it is a week or two before the winter solstice. The waitress brings you your drinks, and now you are simply waiting on your "informant" to tell you what he knows.
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    Astrakhan
    (As he sips his beer) Ahhhh. This is a good brew. (To the waitress): Could I get some cheese and bread with this beer? Whateverís newest. And whatís the latest news? Gather Information check: (1d20)[3].

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    Marcus quietly taps a mailed fist on the table as he waits for his informant to arrive. Much to his irritation, the mercenary company he had joined hadn't provided him with much intelligence regarding his mission, only assuring him that their local informant would tell him everything he needed to know. Letting out a sigh, Marcus got up and walked over to a group of the inn's patrons. Pardon me, would you happen to have any information about any recent happenings? (Gather Information (1d20-1)[16]
    If brute force isn't working, that just means you're not using enough of it.

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    Fionn contents himself with leaning his chair against the wall behind him and taking a nap while waiting for the informant to show up.
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    The man groaned, laying across three lined chairs half-under a table looking like a pile of beaten and worn discarded brown rags. It'd been something of a long trip, moderately expensive venture. All in effort to reach here, wherever here was, on the word of some sleazy two-bit fence. A fence whose greasy thieving friends called, Roof Rat. He had no idea how the man acquired such a name, and saw to it not to ask. He'd scrapped by dealing with no-good men, and learned the hard way not to be too amiable when dealings with such unsavory fellows. It cost him a silver piece just to catch a hint at a potential job, a chance to make it big. It might have been the payday he'd been hoping would eventually fall into his lap. It was with that hope in mind that he'd suffered the unpleasantries of the road, sleeping through field, wagon and barn until finally coming upon the supposed location of his employment; a soggy little tavern which he didn't catch the name to.

    The dampness which rolled down his obscured face from his thoroughly soaked hat did little to dissuade him from his current application of his headware. The point of his wizard hat sagged over sadly, leaving the thing to cover his face as he laid across the chairs. He left the wet rag firmly planted across his eyes, using it as some improvised sleeping mask to block out the light which perpetuated the ceaseless pounding in his skull from a dire headache. He hadn't had a good nights sleep in nearly a week, and he did value a sound rest. That didn't seem like a likely possibility right now though. He committed himself to buying a lavish featherbed once he had the coin for it... and a place to put it. After not paying rent to his old friend Sarerra, she mercilessly threw him out. Not that he could blame her, despite his pleas as friend and fellow scholar of the mystical arts... He'd done about as much as one could do, to do absolutely nothing at all. Living as a deadbeat had a magical way of not producing any finances for things, like rent. However, now that left him in the precarious predicament of being both unemployed and homeless. He silently cursed under his breath for not listening to master Othlio's lecture about conjuring magical houses or something-or-other. He just hadn't had any interests in magics which didn't involve turning things into smoking piles of smaller things back then. Bah, how naive. Those berating words were all he could think to himself.

    He laid back lifting a hand up to blindly fumble across the table until finally hitting a half-empty tankard of something, which may or may not have been his. Sliding the thing off the table, he pulled it up to his lips and took a swig. The crisp bite of a drink seemed to lessen the ache behind his eyes. Bending back the lip of his hat, he took another quick glance about the room. It was a strange lot to be sure, but he had the feeling that alone suggested he had indeed came upon the right place. He released the brim to let it fall back over his eyes with a wet slap. Now all that was left was to wait, find this contact Roof Rat mentioned, get the job, and get filthy rich. Ah, he could see it now. He'd be on a boat named 'Magic Man' with a pair of full breasted tiefling girls by the end of the month - He had a good feeling about this.
    Last edited by Mornings; 2017-12-01 at 01:16 AM.

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    Default Re: The Sunless Citadel, IC

    The waitress looks at Astrakhan, "That'll be 3 silver pieces, as for news? Not much... New to the region, I'd say." With that she moves off to go get the food, expecting him to have the money when she gets back.

    Over at the bar Marcus seems to have gotten better results, although at the cost of raising some suspicion. "Well, not sure what but something's killed off a few men, and quite a bit of cow... The herders won't go too far out nowadays... All we know is that it appears to be something small, vicious and armed with claws..." Of course this is said by a drunk sitting off by himself, however the other patrons all nod, so it seems to be true.

    Suddenly the door bangs open and a skinny runt of a man walks in, and the obvious bouncer type of the place (he's sitting there with a rather large cudgel and some studded leather armor) helps him to close the door. The little man looks around then walks over to Astrakhan's table, "So, I was told there'd be more men with you?"
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    Seeing the man approach Astrakhan, Marcus quickly moves back to the table. I take it you're the informant we were told to wait for then. So tell us, why did the company feel the need to send us here? I'm presuming we're here to deal with something a bit more serious than a few dead cows.
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    "People have been known to go to war over a few cows" Fionn says without opening his eyes, "Though the rest of the question still stands."
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    Hearing the beginnings of the conversation he was hoping for he peeled off the wet hat from his face. Glancing at the table which men were beginning to congregate, he wrung out the wet rat into the cup which he'd previously sipped, making sure to down its contents quickly beforehand replacing them. He gave the thing a few good waves to air it out a bit before replacing it back over his head and grabbing his bag. Sliding off his chairs and regaining his footing he approached the table, pulling a chair from an adjacent dining stand to find his own seat; though the furniture was backwards. Leaning lazily against the chair's backing he found his own words in turn, "Ehm, aye... I'm also 'more men'." His brow furrowed at the mention of cows and livestock, it hadn't exactly been what he was expecting though cows weren't exactly cheap to be sure. Nevertheless, he could hear the ring of money from a slightly different bell. "I assume the primary concern is the thing, er... or things, which are killing said cows - and men?" He rolled his shoulders, it sounded troublesome, but blasting things into piles of fine dust was a perfectly fair method of earning coin, and that was the objective.



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    Default Tavern

    The man smiles, "Ah, I am glad to see you are not on your own." He pauses, "Cows? I know nothing of these dead cows, you are merely here because a month past a group of adventurers disappeared, and two of which were Talgen and Sharwyn Hucrule. Their grandmother has offered the sum of 120 gold pieces each if you can bring back their signet rings, and if you manage to bring them back she offers to double the reward. Needless to say we would also like to know what happened to the rest of our mercenary crew we sent, so if you can retrieve Shatterspike, the sword of Sir Brafrd and Heartseeker the bow of Karakas then we will pay you 50 gold pieces each and double if you bring them back alive and healthy." He leans back in the chair, letting the group discuss this between themselves, waiting patiently.
    Last edited by NothingAbnormal; 2017-12-07 at 02:07 PM.
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    Pending the decision of my companions, I shall accept.

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    He tried his hardest, but he couldn't fight back the wide-eyed grin that slowly pulled up one side of his face with the compelling force of a stroke. It had been more money than... he'd ever saved, seen or spent; in person at least. He'd expected moderately low income initially while building his rapport with his would-be employers. He straightened his crooked hat reflexively, feeling there had to be something amiss about a too-good opportunity like this. "Quite the sum for just finding 'grandma's boys', I for one eagerly accept. Might you have some clue as to perhaps where they were last seen, or if there is anything to be mindful of in our venture? Helps having a place to start, to be sure." Risk or not, there was a bit too much money on the table to be playing coy. At the very least he had others to hide behind should the situation get out of hand, and he was very confident in how quickly his feet could take him should his magics prove inadequate...


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    Default Re: The Sunless Citadel, IC

    Fionn opens one eye and looks at the man, "Im in, once you answer the mans questions."
    Quote Originally Posted by Guigarci View Post
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    Marcus narrowed his eyes as he listened to the informant's story. What exactly do you mean when you say this adventuring party 'disappeared'? Assuming you mean they vanished during a mission it would help if you could tell us where they were and what they were doing.
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    Default Re: The Sunless Citadel, IC

    "Sorry if I did not seem to straight forward, but I wanted to make sure you all would take the job before I throw all the information out. As usual this will be secret, like most jobs we offer. As for "grandma's boys" this "grandma" is one of our backers, and also controls most of the merchants in the region, one way or another. Thus someone that we don't want angered. I don't know how, or why they disappeared, only that they did so while checking out something called the Sunless Citadel." he sits back, "And that's all the information I was provided unfortunately, you'll have to get to know the locals to get more information."
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    The wizard slowly raised a brow at the mention of the place's name, "...Well now. That's quite the ominous name. I suppose we should count our blessings the place isn't named 'The Cradle of Infinite Suffering', or perhaps 'The Fane of Undying Beasts'... ehm." He cleared his throat, feeling the pangs of frustration at what he could only assume were two remarkably daft young men that had plunged to their own, unfortunate, but most certain demise. He signed heavily, all he could hear was the ring of imaginary coins that would never weigh in his purse. "We don't have to recover the bodies, assuming we happen upon them, do we? I'm sure one of my companions could grasp an idea of whatever direbeast made lunch of our predecessors..." He looked at his companions, as if trying to convey the idiocy of it all. "I mean... the place is called The Sunless Citadel, surely it must be crawling with all manner of beastie and baddie. Heavens knows why two upstanding young men would brave the place alone. Perhaps I'm too fond of magical beasts, but bandits at the least, to be sure." He pulled his robes straight, somewhat disheartened. "I suppose we best be going, in the event our friends have yet to be eaten. Though, I fear I'll be leaving the investigatory work to you. My talents are sadly frustratingly niche; typically involving turning large rocks into smoldering piles of.... less, large rocks."

    He was about to rise from the table to begin their venture before pausing as if he'd remembered something. Glancing back at the informant he spoke, "Er, friend... No one else has caught word of grandma's secret mission, aye? Well, I mean, specifically no one that would have the intent and means to stop us, rather. If grandma is so important, I'm sure there's a few souls that would be overjoyed should this whole thing go sideways. Would hate to be watching for a manticore, only to catch a knife in the arse. If you catch my meaning."


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    As the mage keeps going on about how horrible the place could be, Fionn's smile kept getting bigger. "Sounds like a fun time to me. Come on, a giant shadowy fortress full of horrid monsters whose corpses may be worth all sorts of money? How can we say no?"
    Quote Originally Posted by Guigarci View Post
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    Pausing, the mage looked at the spearman with a blank stare for a moment before slightly tilting his head with a contemplative look. The gears were turning, counting the average profit... Assuming they were to happen upon this citadel and find it infested with some three dozen or so bandits. Bolts... crossbows... shortswords or the occasional unique weapon... leather armor and whatever spoils they'd accrued for at least the last few months... His eyes slowly started to widen. He could hear it... by the gods he could hear it. The beautiful rain of gold in his purse. "...Gods be good. You're right, we could be walking into a fortune. Or at least a few thousand gold just in travelware, weapons and foostuffs - spoils notwithstanding. We just have to murder everything." The words came out with almost a sense of sudden and newly realized perspective. A blinding flash of the obvious. He rested his head in a palm. It sounded painfully apparent. He admitted, it almost sounded like his words were a slight, for it was so cruelly evident. He wasn't a mercenary - not really, and he'd worked behind a desk or not at all for so long, it hadn't even occurred to him that they could go on the offensive. His magic was a tool, not a weapon, despite its inherently destructive nature. The thought of not having to hold back... of unleashing raw destructive force to rend his enemies of limb in explosive fashion; it made him snort with a grin. It was almost unfair. "You, my friend... are a genius."

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    Fionn gives a wide toothy grin "I have my moments, besides, i could always go for a good fight, money notwithstanding."
    Quote Originally Posted by Guigarci View Post
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    Astrakhan
    Iíll certainly come and kill things and make money. A change, for once.

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    The scruffy young man tilted the brim of his hat at the gray elf in a mock salute, "You mean, kill things, and make an arse-load of money, haha" He couldn't help but laugh at the sudden turn of events that came with the change in perspective. What was once a misfortune, was now just the opportunity he'd been searching for.

    He looked back to the spearman, taking a gander at his almost absurdly large spear. Spears were large of course, as great weapons tended to go, but he'd never seen a spear to dwarf a spear. It was like finding a giant that dwarfed other giants. He paused to think about his comparison, from a scholarly perspective... that was perhaps a poor analogy, being that there were different kinds of giants, and they were in fact of different average heights; but who was to say the same could not be said of spears and the like. He scratched his head, "Not really certain myself how I feel about fighting to fight and such... I've sorta always had to hold back, you know, as to not blow holes in the wall and such. Can't say I've really tried to use my craft in an offensive capacity before. Defending is a bit different when dealing with such fickle forces, maybe blow off an arm or something... but I imagine that's not the kind of fighting you enjoy." He pulled the bottom fold of his robe aside to reveal a large well-worn dagger. The stains over its once polished guard hinted at a grim application. It was not a virgin blade. "Had something of a fancy for the martial practices as well for a bit. No talent for the stuff, but at least I had the chance to learn the basics from a fair Eladrin lass - even let me keep the thing for my trouble." He chuckled to himself at how little he truly had to show for it. He'd wasted a decade playing around, progressing neither as a magician nor as a.... whatever favored daggers. He'd wasted more time on nothing than most even had to live doing something. He couldn't help but accept that with a measure of chagrin. This was his chance to change, to not be useless for once. To make something of himself. "Ehm, while I might be incompetent with such weapons, at the very least I can understand the desire to put your life on the line and test your mettle in combat. It's the refining of a different kind of craft, I suppose. Though you must tell me... what style of fighting uses spears that large?" He gestured at Fionn's unusually large spear.

    Last edited by Mornings; 2017-12-09 at 02:05 AM.

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    Fionn stood up and effortlessly spun the spear in one hand, somehow not getting close to hitting anyone, and ended by placing it behind his head with both hands resting on it like a yoke. "The kind that involves overwhelming force with no subtlety. And you should really let loose when you fight, maybe you'd have more fun" he said, the grin never leaving his face.

    Fionn was gonna have fun getting this guy to really let loose.
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    Malgrim couldn't help but laugh after feeling the intense wind pressure behind each motion of the impressive display. "Haha, I see that. Can't imagine someone would want to find themselves on the business end of that." He could only respond with a shrug towards the later end of the man's words. He wasn't sure what all he could really do when he applied himself. The only thing he'd really applied himself at, was doing nothing at all. He used to care about magic, he used to care about a lot of things - but something about the lethargy of eternity had stolen his personal investment in everything. That had slowly begun to change. Perhaps being a homeless vagrant had been good for him. He had to try again, he had to care. Or he'd never find even the simple comforts of a bed, and living a life with no end in sight... that was not acceptable. "Heh, maybe. I've the sneaking suspicion that we'll soon find out." He held out his hand in greeting, "Might be a little late, but I'm Malgrim B'Bel. An Evoker."


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    The grin remains as he takes the mages hand "Fionn "the Hound" Mac Roich"
    Quote Originally Posted by Guigarci View Post
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    Marcus Aetius. Marcus said by way of introduction as he took stock of the situation. Clearing out a ruin filled with bandits or dangerous creatures definitely seemed more of an appropriate use of his talents than hunting down a few wild animals.
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    The burly man walks over, cudgel in one hand, ready for a fight, although not many would pick a fight with him "I'm going to have to ask you to quit swing your weapon around sir, or take your argument outside." The inn kind of hoes quiet, as everyone watches (out f the corner of their eye or otherwise) the men's table.
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    Fionn grins sheepishly "Theres no fight, i was just showing off" he says as he leans his spear against the wall behind him.
    Quote Originally Posted by Guigarci View Post
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    The big man nods, "Alright, just next time take it outside so you don't scare the other patrons." He waves at them, showing that it's all good then goes and sits down, leaning the cudgel against the wall.
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    Default Re: The Sunless Citadel, IC


    He wasn't expecting the rather large man and his cudgel to walk their way over, giving him quite the start. He didn't bother trading words but kept his left hand behind his back. His pointer and middle finger tightly coiled together with his thumb and ring finger pressed against his palm to touch. Raising his little finger he could feel the mental link establish, a rush of energy surging through himself and rushing to fill the arcane circuit he'd established within his hidden hand. He watched carefully as Fionn sent the man away, he couldn't help but reprimand himself for his carelessness. If the lumbering fool had been a real enemy, he would have been caught completely unprepared; preparation was the only thing which distinguished between a dead wizard and a living one. With a sign of relief, he snapped his fingers with a slight buzzing blue crack of electricity to safely break the magic's flow. Looking at the large well-armed man he nodded in acknowledgement.

    "A pleasure, Mr. Aetius. I assume you're of a similar vocation to The Hound here, judging by your choice of arms and armor. I'll have to rely on you both, but afford me the distance necessary to work my own, and I assure you I won't disappoint." He took a breath, "We probably shouldn't idle for long, and I suppose I should make some preparations."

    Finding a seat the wizard closed his eyes, dismissing the sounds and world about him with a practiced mental command. Within the boundless black fields of his mind, his mental self shut his eyes in similar form, entering a heightened meditative state. Though the world was tuned out, his projected consciousness controlled his physical body as if moving a puppet with strings reaching back through the cosmos. His hand traced a vertical line along his own center from abdomen to forehead initiating the first connection between his own psionic body and his corporeal one. Then the difficult part began. Within the mindchasm of his consciousness he slowly traced each eldrich spiraling sigil carefully. It was the only way he could understand and translate the powers of his conscious to those venerable ancient forces of the arcane world he knew. When he finished the three glyphs, they floated perfectly before his abdomen, chest and forehead. They would act as his mind's focus in this task; and with that complete, he pulled the mental trigger. His physical body's hand sprung into action mincing the gestures he'd performed as if possessed. In a fraction of the time two pointed fingers traced the incomprehensible foci-seals in thin sapphire lines of flame, creating the bridge to join the two powerful forces which dwelt deep within his being. Pressing both palms together, he dared to brave across the trembling steps of the fictitious hovering stones which were the viaduct he had manufactured within his own mindscape. He could see the end... If only he could reach it.

    Spoiler: Actions
    Show

    ⛤[Full Round Action] Gain Psionic Focus (1d20+6)[20] Vs DC 20



  30. - Top - End - #30
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    NecromancerGirl

    Join Date
    Dec 2016
    Location
    No where out there <-->

    Default Re: The Sunless Citadel, IC

    The skinny informant got up from his chair, watching the group, then nodded to himself. They seemed to be getting along well, joking aside. "Get the job done, and if you can do a splendid job there may be more after... Fail? Then we hand you over to the Grandmother. It's nothing personal lads, just business." He nods to himself, then quietly exits the bar, leaving the party to dig up anything they may want to know from the rest of the tavern's patrons.
    Homebrew: If it is mine feel free to PEACH and/or use it.

    Renegade Hippie DM in the Playground

    Extended Signature

    I'm back! Seems it was a bit early to say I had escaped the hospital, then got caught up with RL stuff... I'm back now though.

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