3.5 Homebrew IC

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

Now at last you begin your adventure, or at least the journey to where you hope you will find adventure. Having very little spending money, and very much road ahead of you, have not made the trek pleasant. With each passing day you feel less and less like a hero, and more like a ball of filth. Travelers gaze upon your ragtag group with suspicion, and Innkeeps always seem to find the dirtiest corner of the common loft. The heavens also seem to frown upon you. During your short journey you have managed to see snow, be covered in mud, drenched in hot rain, and baked beneath an even hotter sun. Yet, you finally arrive at last at the great city of Magna Urba.

You pass through the outskirts, which consist of small farmsteads and scattered villages, to arrive at the main gate of the walled city. Once passing beneath what summarily the most intimidating and imposing battlements you have ever laid eyes upon, you are assaulted by a swirling cacophony of sound and color.

The party has arrived at the main market district of Magna Urba. In a space enclosed by a quarter mile wide semi-circle are more carts, vendors, and shops than you have seen in your entire life. Sigil was diverse, in so much as you could find many types of people, but this is diversity of a different flavor. In Sigil everyone was part of a whole, and lived in the same small community. The market place displays a great clashing and bustle of strangers. Each individual seems to exist in their own world, with their own unique style.

You can’t help but get pressed into the crowd and be drawn in by the many attractions. All of the vendors seem quite willing and able to assail against every one of your senses. Had you a bit more gold on hand, you might have found yourself parting with it very quickly.

From what you can tell from you vantage point at the edge of the crowd, the center of the ring is completely inundated with the same chaos . Somehow, probably due to the vigilance of the very competent looking guards, there is a relatively clear path surrounding the central swirl. Carts carrying various goods can be seen passing along this path, which is lined along the wall with more established places of business.

Where do you go now, adventurers?

[obliged_salmon]

Eranti

Eranti - you all know him as "Fence," stares wide-eyed at the chaos around him, feeling especially immersed at his scant 3 feet high vantage point. Holy monstrous carnival he mutters in his native halfling tongue, then in common - This place is AMAZING! He turns to his companions, a little calmer. Maybe we can find our bearings, and some information also, at a local tavern? He grins impishly, then begins looking around for a tavern nearby, while continuing to take in as many sights as he possibly can.

[Wiz]

Nevar

The somewhat travel-worn wizard nods.

That sounds good. I always feel more at home in a Tavern.

[Freshmeat]

Zadreck Ysaron

To Zadreck, Magna Urba was everything he had imagined it to be - crowded, busy, large, hectic,... all of the typical descriptions that readily come to the minds of passers-by, yet which are almost forgotten (or ignored) by the local populace. The warrior assumed that one could easily adapt to a life like this, if one were inclined to become, say, a merchant. Of course, to them a life of adventure would evoke an equal curiosity, and although the journey Zadreck and his companions had embarked on had not been exactly pleasant, he wouldn't have it any other way.
While he was glad he and his companions had reached their destination, or better yet, that they had finally gone on an adventure (whether to follow a familial legacy or for other reasons) he felt that this was the city where the real adventure would start.

Zadreck nodded at the halfling's suggestion.
"A tavern is as good a place to start as any. However, if we don't find anything of interest there, we should consider going to the local constable. He'll be sure to have some honest work for us."

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

ooc: Just going to wait for Severedevil, and then we can get on going.

[Severedevil]

Canran, Male Goblin

The goblin you know as Canran stands only slightly higher than Eranti, but his height is extended by an almost Seussical hat of orange and black stripes which rests upon his head. His silly city-hat bears many wrinkles from its long days smushed inside a full backpack, but it certainly makes him more visible in a crowd.

Canran frown seriously up at Zadreck, the copper cookware that hangs from his backpack jangling lightly with every step. "It's only a good start if it's a good tavern. So hunt us up a good one!" He grins at Eranti, and gestures to the taller pair of adventurers. "You two can go first," the little greenskin declares, "you're the ones with the long legs."

If Zadreck and Nevar honor his decree, Canran will follow closely behind them so he doesn't get lost in the crowd. He seems somewhat wary of the legs and feet of taller beings in such a cramped environment.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

The party manages to pry themselves from the wonders of the central market, and make their way toward a tavern. The nearest establishment is only a few yards down the path, and obviously caters to travelers. A stableboy can be seen running about taking in the mounts of various patrons. The sounds of laughter and song echo out from behind the large oaken doors each time they swing open with the gusto of inebriation. Above these doors hangs a gayly painted sign with a lewd depiction of some manner of fae creature. Beneath the bawdy display are the words 'Drunken Dryad'.

You enter the crowded establishment and are treated to the smells of fine cooking, and too many bodies. The place is quite packed, a portly man sporting muttonchops and a greasy apron approaches and shouts over the din, "Grab a seat where ya can, and a wench if yer able. We've more than enough to go around, but not enough to get it there". He then whisks away to the back of the room.

[Wiz]

Nevar

The young wizard takes a deep breath of the collision of odors and nods.

Oh yes, this is a good one!

[Freshmeat]

Zadreck Ysaron

The establishment offered a fine refuge for those weary of shouting merchants, vivid tapestries and the overwhelming scent of exotic spices. As such, it didn't come as a surprise to see that the tavern was almost as packed as the streets outside.
Zadreck sat himself down at a nearby table, one that offered a good view of the entire bar, and then motioned for his companions to join him.

The warrior stretched his legs for a bit before taking a good look around, and listening for anything unusual or interesting.

Most of the tavern was filled with long trestle tables (such as the one Zadreck, Nevar, Fence and Canran found themselves at). Nearly all of them were occupied, making for a very lively, very crowded center.
Off to the sides of the room were a couple of private round tables, but the people who sat there didn't seem particularly different from those elsewhere in the bar. The crowd itself consisted mainly of travelers and merchants, with a few off-duty guards here and there.
Zadreck spotted a bar wench in the crowd and motioned over to her, but one his companions beat him to it.

As the woman approached, the warrior couldn't help overhearing on some conversations, but, as he expected, there was little more to be heard than the usual, trivial gossip. His ears caught the words 'wars in the east' somewhere, but it was nearly impossible to find out who had spoken of such troubles, much less keep track of the conversation itself, what with all the ambient noise.

[obliged_salmon]

Eranti

Eranti, pleased that his suggestion had been accepted, took in the revelries of the bustling tavern with great confidence, though he half wondered why there weren't any dryads, but of course there weren't any trees either. Big folk were strange after all. He sat down with his companions at Zadreck's behest, and begins twirling a few silver pieces about his fingers, hoping to attract the attention of a server, or someone else who might be well-informed about the premises. He begins talking to his companions casually, but keeps his ears sharply attuned to any relevant conversation he might overhear in the background.

So what do you fellows think of the place, eh? It's pretty easy to get lost and feel small or insignificant, I suppose. Still I warrant that could be a good thing if you wound up in some kind of trouble. I haven't quite decided yet, but I think I prefer the comforts of an open road.

Spoiler

Show

Rolled a 19 on listen check, +5 makes 24. Specifically listening for words in the background like "money," "caves," and other words relating to adventuring.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

You finally manage to flag down a serving wench, and a hearty meal of stew, bread, and ale has somehow been delivered safely before you. You eat and enjoy the simple fare, a welcome change from stale rations, and table scraps. It would seem that the proprietor of the Wasted Waif does not discriminate when the coin is good.

After a time, you finish your meal, and notice that the crowd has thinned out. It strikes you as a little odd, as the lunch bells should be ringing any time now. Where previously it seemed that every departing patron was replaced with two eager fellows, now the tavern populations seems to only dwindle. The side tables are mostly clear, and while there are still a respectalbe number of individuals in the main room, the comparative silence is a bit eerie.

[Wiz]

Nevar

Nevar looks around thoughtfully. He's lived his whole life in taverns and something about the dynamic of what's going on doesn't feel right.

Okay... so what's all this then?

Spoiler

Show

I'd like a spot check, and if you feel it's appropriate, maybe add a circumstance bonus for my long tenancy in taverns. I'll let you roll it since I don't know what if any bonus you might assign. Basically, I'm trying to see if I can spot anything which might explain why the tavern is emptying out, and why those who remain do so. Are they gathering in one area... watching the stairs or the door for someone to come in... keeping their eye on the windows as if waiting for a set time... etc. etc.

[Freshmeat]

Zadreck Ysaron

"Maybe there's some sort of event going on outside," Zadreck shrugs. "I think it's about time we move on anyway, and get to explore the rest of the city a bit."

[obliged_salmon]

Eranti

Immediately seizing upon Zadreck's notion, Eranti scrambles out of his chair and assaults the attention of the nearest passerby. Is something going on in the city today? He hardly waits for a response before sauntering out the door to have a look around, thanking the barkeep on his way out. As an afterthought, he remembers to summon his companions before venturing too far.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

As soon as the party steps outside they can't help but notice the alarming number of rather sharp looking blades glinting in the early afternoon sun. There are a dozen well-equipt guards who stand in tight formation to either side of the tavern door. Their arms and armor glint in the sun, and they look very ready to deal with any troublemakers. A burly and severe looking man, obviously some manner of watch captain, stands opposite the tavern door. He is just letting some other patron pass as you leave the door.

The guards to either side close their formation around you a bit, and allow just enough space for the watch captain to approach you. The captain looks you over for a moment, and withdraws a scroll from his belt pouch. He unfurls it in a deliberate manner, and reads, "By order of his excellency the Duke, by extension of the honorable Constable Dongel, you are to be apprehended and executed for crimes against the state." He stares you down, as if daring you to resist.

[obliged_salmon]

Eranti

Eranti frowns thoughtfully at this turn of events and mutters aside to Canran, who happens to be nearest, and the same height, I guess they really don't like tourists around here. He offers no resistance, presuming that there had been some mistake which would surely be cleared up...surely? He hadn't even stolen anything yet!

[Wiz]

Nevar steps forward slowly, bowing his head.

If I may ask, Captain, what crimes we've been accused of? I have been with my companions since our arrival in your fair city and I'm not aware of any activity we've engaged in that might be called illegal, and particularly nothing that should require the death penalty.

He rises from his bow and looks the captain in the eye. His own eyebrow is cocked in polite interest, and he projects no hostility and makes no sudden movements.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

The captain shouts his reply while swiftly drawing his sword, "Silence criminal!". Nevar is dealt a vicious blow to the head with the pommel of aformentioned sword and is tossed to the ground. He manages to stumble back to his feet with his vision swimming, just in time to have a hood placed over his head. The rest of the party suffer a similar fate, depending upon their level of resistance. After the entire group has been hooded, then you are all tied together at the wrists. A shrill whistle and a vicious jerk start your march to the gallows.

The party is lead through what seem to be crowded streets, into the heart of town presumably. At one point it feels as if you are crossing water, and there were definately a few gates alone the way. You arriving at a large interior place, and after a few shouted commands, continue within. The halls echo with the sounds of marching feet, and sharpening blades. Finally, the hoods are removed, and the ropes cut. You are inside a large stone building, presumably a keep or dungeon. Before you are two well armed guards standing at attention on either side of a wooden door. The troup that lead you in depart, and the door is opened. Pikes usher you inward.

The room manages to be both richly appointed and spartan at the same time. There are few furnishings in the spacious room, but all are obviously finely crafted of the best materials. The center of the room is dominated by a large and cluttered desk. Off to either corner are a makeshift cot, and a small table with the remains of a meal. Behind the desk and off to the left are two bookshelves. Lining the walls are sconces which radiate a soft glow, illuminating the windowless room to a perfect reading level.

At the desk sits a middle-aged man, who is busily shuffling through papers and scrolls. He is possessed of fine noble features, which age and desk life have done a bit to wear away. Overall he is of average height and build, and nothing seems remarkable about him. After a moment he waves and the guards leave the room. He pushes a parchment forward without looking up, and says, "Name and occupation here".

[Severedevil]

Canran

At the tavern, Canran folds his tall hat down to normal size and places it on the seat besides him. The counters are awkwardly above his shoulder level, but the little goblin makes do. "You could've just let me cook..." he mutters as eats the inn's hearty food.

Canran's eyes flash with fear at the sight of sharpened steel, but as he has nowhere to run, the little greenskin quickly hides the emotion with a look of wide-eyed innocence. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it after Nevar's rough treatment. Following along without resistance, his eyes neverthless watch for an opportunity to escape.

Canran steps up to the clerkish man, feeling much more relaxed now that the violent guards are gone. "I'm Canran," he offers, scribing the name in a neat cursive, his yellow eyes wide and innocent once more, "but I only just got here, so I don't really have an occupation. Sometimes I spread the goodwill of my benevolent Goddess, and I can sort of cook." He frowns thoughfully. "I'll put 'sort of cook' for my occupation. That seems about right."

Passing the sign-in sheet to the next beleaguered adventurer, Canran glances over the scrolls on the desk and addresses the clerk directly. "Do you read all this stuff yourself? Wow! That sounds like quite a job."

[Wiz]

Nevar stands shakily, and stares at the man. The hostility he witheld before is now evident in his eyes.

But you know my name... don't you? Am I not a criminal? A felon arrested and beaten by the Duke's guards? If you want something from me, you will be the one forthcoming with information at this point!

[Freshmeat]

"Calm yourself, my friend," Zadreck says as he places a hand on Nevar's shoulder. "This man is not to blame for the unfair treatment we've been given by the guards."

Although he felt the need to remain calm in this situation, and not make matters worse, on the inside Zadreck was filled with both confusion and regret. Certainly if there was a specific, local law they had to be aware of, their peers would have let them know before they even began their journey, right? Yet there they were, treated as criminals.
Still, it felt like something was really off about this, and as the goblin wrote down his name on the parchment, Zadreck searched his mind, wondering if he had ever heard of this Duke before, and if so, what...

"Still," the warrior said while turning to the clerk, "My companion is right. We are entitled to an explanation. We've been in this town for scarcely an hour and have only enjoyed a fine meal. On my honor, we haven't broken the law, unless there is some obscure local law we, as newcomers to this town, weren't aware of.

I do wonder though, if you think us criminals, why do you insist on being left alone with us? Were we of evil intent, we might decide to harm you, or use you as a hostage. I do not believe this great city, of which I have heard nothing but good, picks up random people in the streets for no reason, only to convict them of undefined crimes. In fact, I think that something else is going on here, and I'd like to know what.

As for my name and occupation, I am Zadreck Ysaron. Perchance you may have heard of my father, Gerlynn Ysaron? He benefits of a fairly good reputation, and while I haven't yet earned one of my own, I'd be grateful if you kept it in mind. I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that we are currently unoccuppied. Merely travelers passing through, looking for fair and honest work."

Spoiler

Show

I'd like to make the following checks:
- Sense motive: We've been treated awfully weird, and the clerk did send away the guards while in the presence of four criminals sentenced to death. Either he's very bold, or something doesn't make much sense.
- Knowledge(nobility): Who is the Duke? What kind of man is he, and how is his reputation? Same rationale for:
* Constable Dongel
* The clerk: you described him as 'possessing noble features'
(of course, neither of the last two might even be nobles in the first place)
- Diplomacy: Assuming that they really do think we're criminals, maybe my words will make them reconsider, and wonder if maybe a mistake has been made. Feel free to give penalties on this, as he's probably used to 'criminals' claiming they're 'innocent'.

Alebeard, I'll leave it up to you to roll these, after you've decided which you feel are appropriate, given the circumstances.

[Wiz]

Nevar

Nevar chuckles, looking at his friend.

Don't you understand... I was being sarcastic. This man has no idea who we are, he sits here asking our names and professions. Obviously the criminal charges were merely an excuse to get us here.

He looks at the noble-featured man, rubbing the lump on his forehead.

I'd guess he needs something done. Something that he couldn't trust to anyone local, or anyone he knows. So, he has the guards gathering strangers that fit some profile... perhaps young adventuring types? And now he expects us to roll over and do the task he wants done. But Zadreck and I are both right... we deserve an explanation, NOW!

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

Still keeping his head thoroughly buried in his stacks of paper, the man speaks, "You have a choice". He produces a set of four parchments and four large clinking bags, and continues to speak, "You take these bags, which contain 250 gp each, and follow my instructions implicitly or," he finally gazes up at the party, his eyes glinting with authority, "you may face the charges of treason".

While the party is still deciding what to do, the man returns to his work and seems to drift into another world. After a moment he returns to his senses, and speaks again, "In the courtyard of the keep you will find a smith, alchemist, and general stores. I have given them instructions to sell to you whatever gear you may need, but keep in mind that haggling will be frowned upon. Also, do not tarry long," he produces a large oilskin packet, "these are your orders, do not under any circumstances open them within the city".

[Freshmeat]

Zadreck Ysaron

"Either carry out your orders or be falsely sentenced for treason? I strongly disapprove of the methods you use to enforce cooperation, but I'll play along for now, if only because of Duke Leon's outstanding reputation.

As you don't seem intent on giving us a full explanation within these walls, I'll hold on to my judgement until I read these documents. Before then, don't expect us to make any promises about whether or not we'll carry out your instructions."

Maybe he has a mission he can't trust one of his servants or guards with...

Zadreck takes the oilskin packet and pockets it. After some hesitation he takes one of the gold bags as well, though he hopes accepting the money doesn't count as an unwritten agreement to carry out unspecified tasks.

Reflecting on the old man's words, the paladin glanced over at his companions, trying to gauge their reactions.

Spoiler

Show

If permitted, I'd like to cast detect evil, just in case.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

"You will keep a civil tongue in your head, my reasons are my own, and you will soon see that they are just. You have also neglected to sign this waiver", he gestures to the parchment placed beside the bag of coin.

[Wiz]

Nevar

Nevar nods, rubbing his head.

Your reputation is secure, your grace. I will trust that it is your generosity, and your honesty about what is just, that keeps most people silent about your methods. However, you might want to consider one thing... If you truly want people to do your dirty work for you, it doesn't pay to treat them like dirt.

He leans over. Writes out his name: Nevar, and his profession, Wizard; then he signs the document and takes his bag of gold.

[obliged_salmon]

Eranti

Eranti looks visibly relieved when the bag is removed from over his head, but he then peers disconsolately at the bump on Nevar's head (or what he can see of it from his height). He idly scribbles the name "Fence" on the paper, then puzzles over occupation. In the end he decides on "entrepreneur," and proceeds to check the corner table for anything edible while the others talk. Finally discarding this ploy, he snatches up one of the bags of coins, nods at the old man at the desk, and goes to hover near the door out to the courtyard. I wonder what the castle town has to sell?

[Freshmeat]

Zadreck Ysaron

Wordlessly, Zadreck writes down his name on the paper, and lists 'paladin' as his occupation.

The warrior hadn't sensed any malevolent presence in the man, which assured him somewhat, but evil was always moving, ever changing. Zadreck had been taught that it could strike anyone if they let their guard - or rather, their spirits - down. And although such cases were rare, it was not impossible for someone to cause great harm without necessarily following the path of evil. The line of morality is a thin one indeed, and the greater the power one possesses, the easier that line is crossed.

Still, it became more and more likely that even though they didn't have a choice in this matter, neither might their employer. It was almost as if he was keeping up a certain charade. But if that was the case, who was he afraid of?


Letting himself out after Fence wrote down his name and occupation, Zadreck moves downstairs, to the courtyard.

[Alebeard_Thunderax]

The man addresses Nevar, "I assume you are refering to the unsightly swelling upon your head. I do not recall personally striking you, though I doubt it was underserved. You seem to forget your place quite a bit, this can only mean trouble for you. As far as 'treating you like dirt', he spits the words back at you with contempt, "I have just handed you a large sum of money, the value of which is greater than what many may comprehend. Keep this in mind when questioning my generosity".

ooc: PM me a list of purchases, and I will approve them. Think back to your wishlist, was it realistic? The armory has a limited selection, but at the general stores and alchemist you will find any item from the PHB.

[Wiz]

Nevar

Nevar bows deeply.

Certainly, your grace. You are right to point out that I am the one who's behavior has been improper. I apologize.

He rises from his bow and turns to depart.