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    Chapter I. - The road to the Elf forest


    You have all read the letter, altough you know what's going on already. The Burubu started to send legions to Nabarria ten years ago. They have conquere and settled in the south of the island centuries before, and after a stalemate situation, they are on the move again, heading for Dwarfland, to seize their famous mithral. A pity there are some towns in their way. Wolverineton is such a town. The lord of the Regency, Archduke William is away in Birminstone, which is reaported to be already under siege. Wolverineton currently hosts two militias, which are too weak to have even the slightest chance against a Burubu legion. You know Shean D'Raylee, the captain of the arms. He's a stong man despite his hair already begun to turn white, and the Archduke gave him full authority with the town's defense before leaving.

    You came to the Mayor's house to register for the task. There are seven of you, who volunteered to deliver the letter to Elfland. The light rain just stopped as you reached the Mayor's house. Few people were on the streets, mostly peasants and craftsmen, passing by. A servant was waiting for you at the door of the manor, altough he didn't let you in until four o'clock.

    Please come in. The lord is waiting for you.
    - the servant asked you, altough he eyed with the elves with barely hidden dislike in his face.

    The servant guides you to the hall, where the army captain is sitting behind a large oak table, writing a letter. As you notices you, he finishes the letter and after folding it, puts it into an envelope and seals it with his signet ring. The man is quite impressive, and has a rather solid built, despite his age. He wears his steel armor even in his "office", along with some red and yellow cloths, the colours of the Archduke. An armed soldier stands guard near the door, leaning against the wall. He looks at the elves and the dwarf with distrust, but says nothing.

    Well met, brave souls. - Shaen greets you all, but his eyes hang on Kaz Qualther for some time. - You know well the importance and the difficulty of this task, yet you volunteered, and I'm truly grateful for this.

    Regrettably, I can't send my soldiers on this task, the Burubu must not become aware of our plans. Time and secrecy is of essence. But before we get to the details, why wouldn't we introduce ourselves? As you might very well know, I am Shaen D'Raylee, head officer of the defense forces of Wolverineton, Lord of Lower Chesterdale.


    He looks at you, waiting for your intoductions. Meanwhile, a pretty, young human girl comes in with a bottle of wine and cups, offering you a drink. She smiles at you, especially at Eammon and Dafydd, and her face turns a little red.
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    Eammon

    Eammon remains quiet as he gathers with the others and is led into the mayor's residence. He is used to the looks of contempt on people's faces. It makes him angry but he has learned to look straight ahead and hide his feelings. He is pleasantly surprised to find another elf in the party. He can't help feeling excited and nervous about the mission especially when as the Captain speaks. He tries hide that too though not as successfully.

    Naturally he notices the girl and smiles shyly at her but looks away quickly. It's awkward being an elf in human lands. This is not the first human girl who he has met eyes with. In fact her mother may have looked at him the same way in passing many years ago. But every sweet smile from a young girl was followed by scores of warning scowls from her friends and family.

    He remembers his mother's warning when they first entered a human town, more than 100 years ago, "Always be careful Eammon. We are only visitors in this land."

    He picks up the wine from the girl and gives a sideways glance to Daffyd before stepping foreward to the Captain and saying, "I am Eammon Longsight my lord. My bow and skills are at your service. Long have we, elves and men, suffered under the oppression of the invaders."

    He pauses to look at the goblin an dwarf and continues, "But they threaten us all. I am sure, once we get word to my people, that they will help send help my lord."

    Then turning to his new companions he says, "Well met fellow messengers. I pledge myself to you all as well if you are willing to lend your arms against our common enemy."
    Last edited by ag30476; 2007-08-25 at 10:57 PM. Reason: put in character name at top

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    Dafydd strolls easily into the mayor's house, taking stock of the others. Quite a group, he muses, with an inward smirk. He ignores the portman's obvious contempt. Those who judge others based solely on race are generally not worth befriending. To the serving girl, he gives a kind, reassuring smile and thankful nod; a pretty face is, after all, not lost on him.

    Upon hearing Shaen's words, and after Eammon speaks, Dafydd stands forward. I am Dafydd Fennswyth. On my honor, I will fight with my life to see these usurpers brought to justice for their crimes. He nods confidently at Eammon, I'm sure our kinsmen will be sympathetic to your plight. We might just as easily thank your townspeople for your willingness to fight against this common enemy. At any rate, my sword is yours. He bows before the mayor and Shaen, evoking a commanding yet graceful demeanor.
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    Lorrick Kaine

    Lorrick had arrived in mid-morning at the Lord's house, but waited patiently until 4 to ask for entry. The previous day, he had sold all of his possessinos that would no longer be useful.

    As he entered the Lord's house, he slipped the hood of his dark brown cloak off of his head. His face was weathered, and despite the fact that he was only 24, he looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had a deep scar down the left side of his face, running from near where his ear attached to his head down to the jaw line. Those of you who would have attended a prizefight might recognize him, as he had been working as a brawler to earn his living. He had never been a champion, but had played the spoiler on occasion.

    As he made his way to the meeting room, he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. When he arrived, he moved over to the wall and leaned against it, as if sitting would make him uncomfortable. He unshoulered his backpack though, and set it at his feet, unwilling to bear its weight when he didn't have to.

    As the meeting starts, Lorrick listens and nods at the Lord's words. He clearly agreed that something had to be done. When the young lady enters the room with wine, Lorrick declines the beverage. The more observant among you would notice that he always looked away from the woman, as if her presence was causing him pain.

    When it is time for introductions, Lorrick hesitates. The elves spoke up quickly. Probably cause they are used to justifying their presence. Lorrick felt no such obligation, but nevertheless, when the room fell silent, he took the opportunity to identify himself.

    I am Lorrick Kaine. I have lived here for three years, under your protection. To volunteer now is the least I could do. Besides, I am familiar with the area forests from my youth. May we have a safe and speedy journey.

    With that, Lorrick falls silent again, relaxing against the wall, waiting for the others.

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    Kaz Qualther
    Kaz walks into the mayor's room last and stays to the rear of the group, watching his new companions. Interesting crew. When the group fell silent again after Lorrick's introduction, Kaz hesitated for a few moments, seeing if anyone would speak up. When no one did, he decided to introduce himself.
    Hello Shaen. It's been a while. Looking to the group, Kaz smiles. I'm Kaz Qualther. It's nice to meet all of you.
    Kaz declines a drink from the girl and rests leaning on the wall, his eyes focused on the captain of the guard. I wonder what Shaen wants. I'll have to check in later.
    Last edited by Quxelopqr; 2007-08-26 at 10:46 AM. Reason: Changing to recommended posting format

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    Cannol

    The wildest of the bunch, a rather tall barrel chested fellow with lavender eyes and even more wild red hair that bears a few braids over his scalp, seems almost nonchalant as he leans back in his chair. Held in one hand crossed over his chest, as a king would would a scepter, is a darkwood staff that looks barely a few inches too thick than a normal stave ought. Pelts and hide are his armaments, adding to the feral look of his sharp hawk like nose and narrow eyes. All that he's missing is a beard; incongruously his angular face (almost elven in terms of it) seems unable to produce facial hair.

    He was more interested in looking the way of the serving maid (and his hand noticeably moved when she past him as if he nearly followed through with the notion to cop a feel but felt it prudent to save the act for later) than the talk of invaders it seemed, but when the wine was passed and the others began to introduce themselves, he resigns himself to the task at hand. ...No, no the OTHER task.

    Cannol Emberleaf of the Warmblood druids, yer captainship. I've had right enough of sharin' the land with these invaders so I'm here to aid these fellows in doin' something about it. They can rest easier knowin' I'm to lend them my strength.

    He laughs aloud at his own 'humor' and drinks deeply, an almost surprising act as one would think a druid would abstain.. or at least water the stuff down.
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    Ozzgar the Wolf

    The goblin amongst the others has the lean, predatory look of a wolf. As they are escorted in, he flips the wide-brimmed hat back to hang over his back, revealing coarse black hair atop blood red skin. He seems unaccustomed to the finery of the Mayor's residence, but doesn't allow it to put him in an agitated state.

    Finally, after most of the others have had their turns, the goblin speaks. "Ah'm Ozzgar the Wolf, o' the Stooart Clan. It'd be mah pleasure ta help put any kind a thorn inta dem bastards. Mah bow and mah blade and hammer are yers. We'll get through tha lines, 'fore tha bastards ken anythin' 'boot us." His jaw closes with an audible click, as the goblin's sharp teeth settle into their natural positions.
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    Eammon

    Eammon is visibly impressed as Daffyd speaks and begins to smile at him but looks away before anyone catches him staring.

    He studies each speaker in turn. Kaz's informality when he speaks almost make Eammon's jaw drop open but he regains his composure quickly.

    He pays close attention to the Goblin, trying to understand his northern accent and what he means by the Burubus "booting" us.

    Then he turns and waits for the dwarf to speak. He remembers his mother telling him long ago, "You can learn many things from dwarves, Eammon. How much patience you have, for instance."



    (( OOC: For clarity I'll use green for elven and blue for common though in this case it's just fluff as the character did not speak. ))
    Last edited by ag30476; 2007-08-26 at 12:11 AM. Reason: put in character name at top

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    Dagg Undershot

    As Dagg walks into the room he ignores to the point of denying the existence of the armed soldier giving him the looks, and scowls, as far as anyone else can tell, at the "opulence" around him. He wears dusty clothes, marred by dried blood, and scale mail armor missing more than a few scales. Very little of his face is visible, hidden from the top by an unkempt growth of thick black hair and from the bottom by an equally unruly beard. He has three thick scars crossing from left temple to chin, and an eyepatch over his left eye socket.

    He is silent as everyone else speaks - after they make their introductions, he swallows his wine in a single gulp and says, "I am Dagg, of the Undershot clan. I bear no love for those who would desecrate the lands of my people, or the lands of my people's allies. I shall fight with all the strength I can muster, as will my father," he lifts his left-hand ax, bearing an obvious crack in the blade, though still functional, "and his father before him," and he lifts his right-hand ax, a more ornate and well-maintained blade.

    He then falls into a stony silence.
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    Kaz

    Kaz smiles to himself when the introductions are finished. He is awed by the group's apparent resolve to destroy the invaders, and is also impressed by the formality of the elves, despite the fact that he doesn't feel he needs to show much. Cannol's humor isn't lost on him, and he chuckled to himself slightly after hearing it. Kaz recognized Lorrick after he took down his hood. "I feel better about this mission with you here, Lorrick. I've made a good bit of coin wagering on your strength." Still smiling, Kaz turns his gaze back to Shaen. "Any further instructions sir?" ,he asks, shifting his weight on the wall.

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    After listening to your introductions, Lord Shean nods.

    Good... Now, where were we... - The old soldiers falls into silence, and after a short time, he continues, rubbing his chin.

    Kaz Qualther, I hereby trust you with this letter, and nominate you for the leader of this mission. Your past services were appreciated by our Lord. - He walks over to Kaz, and putting his hand on the human's shoulder, he gives the letter and a map to Kaz.

    Defend it even at the cost of your lives, and don't let anyone else read it, save for the most high-ranking elves. Should it fall in the hands of anyone else, especially the Burubu, destroy it before.

    I give you this map. You probably won't need it in our lands. This is the most accurate map we could get from the elf forest and the borderlands, but if only half of the legends are true about the forest, you'll need to use your wits more than this map.


    The paper shows a really detailed map about the Regency, a less detailed one about the borderlands, and only a few routes and places in the elves' land, often marked by quetion marks. The borderlands are inhabited mostly by humans and halfelves, living in little villages around forests, but only a few word came from there since the recent invasion begun.

    You shall leave tomorrow dawn. I will have prepared some supplies for you, you can take them from the militia headquarters at the edge of the town before you leave.

    Here's this signet ring, to prove that you're acting in the Regency's behalf, should it be needed. - he gives Kaz the ring. It looks like an ordinary silver ring, but a hidden mechanism lets you reveal the emblem of the Regency hidden in it.

    Any question you would like to ask?
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    The messengers, a game about finding allies in times of need

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    Dagg Undershot

    Dagg is somewhat surprised at their immediate acceptance for such an important mission, and subsequently seems grateful for that. He shifts his feet nervously, obviously eager to leave.

    "I have one - who are we to report to in elven lands? And where should we find whomever it is?
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    Dafydd

    Dafydd takes stock of each of his new compatriots in turn, and is greatly pleased by the overall demeanor among them. He was in truth glad a kobold signed up for the quest. He hadn't seen many kobolds since leaving the elf forest but always found them and their curious ways to be highly interesting and entertaining. Kaz, apparently having done some of this type of reconnaisance work in the past, would presumably be a good choice for leader. He had no questions, perhaps aside from idly wondering about the identity of the serving girl, so he sidles over to Ozz and whispers "I hope that's a decent map, because I have an awful sense of direction."
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    Ozzgar the Wolf

    The red-skinned goblin grins at the elf. He leans forward and replies, "Ack, laddie. Nae worries! Ah'm a fair hand at scootin' an' travelin' tha wilds. Ah'll nae letya git loost. 'Sides, seems a cuppla these lads mite be useful in tha same!" Ozz says with a surprisingly solid slap - coming from one so small - to Daffydd's knee. "Mah only concern is dat I mite be a touch overloaded fer wot we'll need ta be doin'. When ah wuz shoppin', ah 'spected ta be huntin' alone. Now mah plans've changed, an' here ah be," he pats the three quivers of newly fletched arrows he has around his person.

    "Anyway," he begins, then continues in curiously accented elven, "It'll be a pleasure to travel with some of the fair folk!" Ozz bows in an imitation of courtly graces.
    Last edited by GimliFett; 2007-08-27 at 08:50 AM.
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    Lorrick

    Lorrick looks over the map, appraising it for accuracy, forming a general opinion about it.

    knowledge geography - (1d20+7)[20]

    After he has finished appraising the map, he continues.

    It will do. Even if it isn't accurate, we look to be capable. What are the last scouting reports on the road? Any known spots of trouble? And have there been any orcs sighted recently?

    Lorrick asks that last question with particular curiosity.

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    Eammon

    Still unsure about most of what the Goblin has said, Eammon bows and smiles back politely at Ozz.

    "Do not speak without reason Eammon," his mother would say.

    Satisfied with all the members of the group, Eammon is content to listen and watch as he sips the wine.
    Last edited by ag30476; 2007-08-27 at 10:50 AM.

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    Kaz

    "My only question is to the group." He turns to them and gives a slightly sheepish grin. "It's been a while since I have been to the elvish lands, and diplomatics aren't exactly my specialty. Would someone else care to do the talking?" He then looks quizzingly at Lorrick for a moment. I haven't heard of orcs on the roads here for some time. Ah well, maybe he heard a rumor that I hadn't yet.

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    Dafydd

    Dafydd steps forward to answer Kaz. "I can assuredly vouch for our company in the elven lands, for my part. I hail from Sacred Tree originally, and my people would presumably welcome me back." He grins humorously. "And you, Eammon, from what part of the Forest have you come?"
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    Ozz the Wolf

    The goblin chuckles at Kaz's question. "Ah kin speak thare language, boot Ah'm not one fer pretty words, lad. Ah kin getya thar and Ah kin protec' ya, boot sommun else'll hafta do tha talkin'."
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    Eammon

    In reponse to Daffyd's question Eammon clears his throat says, "On the black day when Cardiff fell to invaders from the sea, my family sought refuge in these lands of the Regency for which we are in debt to his highness, the Archduke, and his fathers before him. We settled in a small dale not three days walk from Wolverinton. I confess to knowing no forest except the common woods near our home.


    And he adds cautiously, thinking that Daffyd might be otherwise occupied this evening, "But if you would be kind enough to indulge me cousin when we have more time, perhaps on our travel, I would deign ask you a few questions regarding Sacred Tree. News from the Elven Forest is so rare here."
    Last edited by ag30476; 2007-08-27 at 01:31 PM.

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    Lorrick can see that this map is really amongst the best ones you can get in Nabarria. No doubt that the Cussilians with their precise astronomical tools could make better ones, but a place as mystical as the elf forest is not easy to be mapped.

    Shaen shakes his head.

    Regrettaably, I don't know who is responsible for the elven armies, but you should find him, most possibly their king, or the council of elders, or their high priest. Our contact with the elves has been very poor for a while.

    Burubu legions were reported to be moving around Hereford and Clouchester, and Birminstone is about to be sieged anytime. You must beware of them, as they might have scouting parties or spies along the main roads.


    After you're done talking about the details of the mission, Shaen shaked hands with all of you, and the servant guided you outside. Time has passed with the talking, the sun already started to settle down, giving the whole scenerio a deep red hue. Everything seemed to be... peaceful.
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    Dafydd

    Dafydd nods sympathetically at Eammon's story. "Indeed, we fight both for the land of my people and the land of your family. It will strengthen our efforts ten times over, to be sure. I will gladly tell you of the Forest, though I've been absent over a year now." Then, to everyone present, "If any of you have need, my pack is near empty, and while I don't mean to sound arrogant, I can carry more weight if anyone feels overburdened."

    Dafydd spends a fair portion of the evening swapping tales with Eammon and anyone else who cares to, about whatever he knows of elven traditions and his experiences in the Forest, and his notion that they, as a company of adventurers, were bound for greatness.
    Last edited by obliged_salmon; 2007-08-27 at 02:01 PM.
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    Ozzgar the Wolf

    The kilted goblin saunters up to Dafydd. "Ah doon't s'pose ya cood carry mah extra quivers, nae? It'd sure lighten mah lood fer scootin', lad. An' 'less we get inta a fair mess, Ah doot Ah'd need more'n one at a time," Ozz chuckles as he grins his wolf's grin. "If ya kin do dat plus mah pack Ah'd be set fer sure an' Ah'd be obliged."

    The goblin tilts his head to the side, much reminiscent of a wolf, and waits for the elf's reply.

    Spoiler
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    Dafydd: The quivers'll drop 3 pounds from my weight, plus the pack and non-essential gear within it, another 9.875 pounds. Can ya handle 13 pounds o' gear?
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    Eammon

    If nothing else happens that night...Eammon, more than happy to spend time with Daffyd, listens attentively as the paladin speaks late into the night. When its time to leave, he returns to his private room at the inn. It's more expensive but he prefers not to make others uncomfortable by his presence. He writes what may be his last letter to parents before settling down to his nightly meditation. He gets up before dawn, checks out, asks the innkeeper to deliver his letter and gets to the appointed departure point eagerly awaiting the rest of the messengers.
    Last edited by ag30476; 2007-08-27 at 02:48 PM.

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    Dafydd

    "Certainly, my good kobold, of the...Stoo-art clan, was it?" He securely fastens the goblin's pack to his own, and squeezes the extra quivers in with his spare arrows as well.
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    Ozzgar the Wolf

    Ozz chuckles and shakes his head. "Nae, lad. Close, though. Stooart. Allta-gether. Stooart. Heh. Ah think ye'll have plenny o' time ta work on it, nae?"

    He makes sure the rest of his gear is secure, but ready for a easy access: the potions go into his belt pouch, as does a single flask of oil, a small steel mirror and several pieces of chalk. His longbow he keeps in hand, and his remaining quiver is tight along his left hip. Hanging from his belt are a scimitar and a warhammer.

    After managing his remaining gear, the goblin looks up at Dafydd."Ah'll need ta get one thing outta mah pack 'fore we leave in tha mornin'. Gotta get properly attir'd!" he says with a bark of laughter.
    I have returned!! Not that most of y'all know whom I am.

    Mega-Awesome Avatar done by Dawn!

    The Many Faces of GimliFett.


  27. - Top - End - #27
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    BardGuy

    Join Date
    Aug 2007
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: The messengers

    Kaz

    Kaz listens to Daffyd for a while, thinking that learning a little more about where he is going is a good idea. He decided to leave the group and go to bed early, in order to prepare for what tomorrow could hold. Reminding himself of what he had thought earlier, he changed his mind about turning in early and decided to check on any new rumors, particularly any involving orcs or recent invader activity.

    Gather Information: (1d20+1)[8]

    After checking the gossip wire, Kaz finally decides to hit the hay. The next morning he gets to the meeting point about an hour early, reasoning If I'm supposed to be a leader or something I should be there before the rest of the group.

  28. - Top - End - #28
    Barbarian in the Playground
    Join Date
    Jan 2006
    Location
    Underground Laboratory

    Default Re: The messengers

    Lorrick

    Sleep never came easy to Lorrick, so he found himself wandering the paths of Wolverineton, remembering his time there. When it came time to sleep, he found a quiet place and napped til dawn. He arrived prepared for the road, with an assortment of weapons and tools and his backpack.

  29. - Top - End - #29
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    tonberryking's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jun 2005
    Location
    Wandering
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: The messengers

    Cannol

    The druid seems ill at ease as the other two elven blooded begin to discuss heritage related matters, hinting that his own contact with the elven lands is as poor as the captain's. Rather than making the most of a chance to gain camaraderie with the others, he excuses himself as he and his reunited badger head off into Wolverinton to find a tavern or an inn with an open mind about badgers in the stables...

    However, before that...

    "Well, we 'ave a night afore we're to be delivering this missive for aide. I'm gonna make the most of it, iffin any of you need me."

    Spoiler
    Show
    Can I make a knowledge nature check to try to determine how the weather may turn?
    "Unless you're sitting on a ninja posing as a piece of furniture, the act of parking your butt on a surface is not a complicated endeavor."

  30. - Top - End - #30
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    AssassinGuy

    Join Date
    Apr 2006

    Default Re: The messengers

    Dagg

    Once out of the building, Dagg finds his horse and follows the group to the inn. After inspecting the stables (and presumably finding them clean and the horses well cared for) he pays for a day's stabling and leaves Fury there.

    He then enters the inn and pays for poor lodging. He uses his armor as a pillow and sleeps with one hand on each ax.
    The setting of Warhammer 40,000 can be summarized in one sentence: The most virtuous, naive, pure of heart, goody-two-shoes race... are basically space Nazis. Yeah.

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