Graemoore, History Written in Blood (IC)

[JupiterJazz]

"It must have been beautiful on the first tier today," thought Grail, "too bad I can no longer show my face up there anymore."

He had always enjoyed the sigh of autumn right before winter set in the city as a hatchling, so many leaves as far as the eye can see. Almittagir forest was a huge place, and if you could lay every leaf side-by-side it'd nearly cover the whole continent he most have thought. Too bad indeed that he could no longer enter the top tier. Just as the thought had crossed his mind it had left in a fleeting moment.

Grail moved over to the window, and peered out with squinted eyes. Alas though, all he could make out was his own reflection in the dirt smudged window. He admired his Dragonborn features a moment as he stroked his massive jowls.

"Cursssed underdark," he hissed aloud.

He was waiting on his guests to arrive, and hopefully they could make it through this hell-hole ghetto. He had business to attend to and he only hoped that one or all of them had made it safely past the numerous thugs and cut-purses.

A smirk played across his face as he thought the whole scenario over, "Would any of them even attempt to ssshow up he wondered. Quite an odd offering indeed. To receive a letter from ssome unknown individual promissing adventure, and wealth. Then directing any ssane person to meet them in the ssecond tier. Certainly ssounded like an abduction ssscandal if anything," he noted as he burst into a mighty roar of laughter!...

It is nightfall in the great city of Centrea, and curfew is just mere hours away. Each of you had received quite the odd letter this evening, a letter promising more adventure, and wealth then someone could handle in a lifetime. It's only direction was to meet up with it's portrayer at a shoddy bar in the second tier. For those that know it's reputation cringe at the idea of even attempting to open the door. It was norm for atleast one person to walk in only to be carried out by one of the locale undertakers every couple of days.

*Letter*

Greetings, friend. Your talents have caught my eye, and I could very well use someone of your caliber in an important task. Only wealth can lie ahead if we are successful, and the fame gained from our actions will be substantial. If you are interested I'd like for you to meet me at Redhorn Inn. at the heart of northeastern quarter of the second tier, after eve.

Grail Harbbrawn

*End*

We begin as each of our adventurers make their entrances at the forlorn building, and as each of you notice the taproom is oddly empty except for the people who have entered before you. Hardly anyone obeys the curfew in this part of Centrea, and common knowledge dictates to most that your possible employer might have quite the pull here in the underdark.

[BloodyAngel]

Kyra

OOC:

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I'm going to go with the idea that Kyra's pretty familiar with the shoddier parts of town, though a bit more background and info on the city and the "tiers" would be nice. Unless it wll thwart the plot, I'm also going to go with the idea that Kyra was not sent a letter, so much as her companion was, and she's guided him here. I can alter that if it will ruin anything you've got planned, Jazz.

The young tiefling girl looked around with curious interest... seeming strangely unconcerned by the place and it's reputation. She was clad in makeshift leather and cloth, most of it a dark brown. Her skin was a deep crimson red, and her eyes solid orbs of silvery white. Her hair was dark and straight, falling to her shoulders and pushed back behind short, curved horns that left her head to circle around and run towards her jawline. As she moved, a long, red tail swished behind her excitedly. Despite these sinister traits, the girl was energetic and cheerful, looking about the dank place like it was something exciting and mysterious... rather than a place to be feared.

"I don't... know this place." She said with a smile as she looked around curiously. "Oh! Look! There's other people here! I don't think they're muggers.

She turned to the tall, Eladrin man with her, smiling broadly at him. He was new and interesting and kind of handsome... and she'd been having a good time showing him around the city. The letter he'd gotten was curious, and she was looking forward to seeing what it was all about.

Kyra looked towards the others as they approached, her energy obvious. They looked a bit eclectic for robbers. Finally, she couldn't resist the urge any longer, and she took a step towards the new folk and spoke.

"Hey!" She said, waving to the interesting new people, "Which of you sent us a note?"

[JupiterJazz]

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Did you see the info about centrea in the OOC thread? I have no problem with you not getting a letter, and just guiding the eladrin around. Also since you are the first one here the room is empty aside from the barkeep. Since you make quarters in a brothel, I'd say you know the second tier pretty well. Couldn't get away with one running in the top tier.

[MountainKing]

A chill wind blows...

I am prepared, as always, my Lady...

Brogrunn eyed the tavern he had sought out calmly, giving it only a cursory examination before stumping to the door. He paused a moment longer to savor the caress of cold air on his face before entering; with a slow motion, he removed his hood. He did not have the money to drink, nor for a room or warm food. He was here only to respond to a letter, thinking that perhaps at long last, the Raven Queen had given him some kind of sign.

A Tiefling in the tavern suddenly hailed him, inquiring about a letter. Perhaps even the same letter that Brogrunn had in his pack.

"It was not I."

When his task was finished, he would return home... and not a moment sooner. Without hesitation, the Dwarf moved to the bar, nodding curtly to the tavern keeper.

"I am here to meet with someone named Grail Harbbrawn. Is he in?"

[cRySTaL*NiNjA]

Excidium

"Hmm, an interesting proposal," Excidium said quietly to himself after reading the note, "it would be rude of me to decline an invitation." He checked himself over to ensure his prestidigitation was still active, there was no need to him to walk around the second tier of the city in his normally rich blue overcoat with its fine silver buttons and clasps. Instead he had changed it to a dull gray color with scratched and dull clasps, as little as he knew of this city he could still recognize the bad side of town.

As he made his way over to the Redhorn inn his tiefling guide bounded the last few feet with her youthful exuberance. Upon entering Excidium decided to take a seat at a table that was about as comfortable as this inn could offer, while still ensuring he has a good view of the door. Kyra had said she didn't know anything about this place, but he decided to begin to ask her a few questions about this area of the city.

[BloodyAngel]

Kyra

"I... oh. Alright." Kyra said as the dwarf brushed her by. He didn't seem the friendly sort, but she was not so easily dissuaded.

"You're looking for someone named Grail? So are we! She announced proudly, "Did you get a letter too?

[JupiterJazz]

"Gnnrrrrr," rumbles the large orc from behind the counter, as he turns around grabbing a mug from a shelf and begins wiping it down.

"Aye, dat mewling lizard-rot 's upstairs," he gorwls in a barbarous mannerism, as he sizes the dwarf up briefly before glancing the Eldarin over, "first he brings a midget, an now wes gottsa fey, can yar 'magin the humallity"

He pauses to wipe away some yellow ooze permeating from a recently sustained eye wound with the same cloth he's been using on the mugs, before vigorously continuing the task at hand.

"Yaw'd best chanc'd be dah firs' door up dere." He sits his mug down and leans closer over the counter, "nows we all 'ere noes yer kind'sa gottsa memory 'bout long as yah are high, 'gin dats dah firs' door."

"Memory 'bout long as yah are high." He roars loudly as he breaks into a hysterical fit of laughter, "Dats a good one righ' dere, hafta let Scrag in on dat one, definate knees 'lapper."

[Myshlaevsky]

Ibrahim

Further along the bar, Ibrahim slumps his head into his palms and moans softly at the countertop, "Oh gods, you disgusting orc..."

This job was looking less and less promising by the minute. This orcish barman, fetidly mulching his kitchenware in his own juices, said even less about 'adventure' and 'excitement' than the thugs he'd had to run away from, repeatedly, on his way here. He supposed he could forget aobut 'wealth' in its entirety, too. Which was a damn shame, because that was the thing he really needed right now.

I wonder what the old wyrmkin upstairs is like - probably some half-dead, one-legged veteran, infected with scale rot and still dreaming about the last days of the Empire. Still, maybe the dwarf will take a hammer to the orc's face... A bit of excitement, at least.

The half-elf leans back on his stool and glances around the tavern, looking for the stairs and anyone well-dressed enough to rob if a fight starts.

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar finally found the bar he was looking for. He knew he was likely late; it was hard enough understanding these cities, but then they had individual establishments within them...

The person who had sent the letters must have been watching him for some time, for he had not fought with any beast or man for nearly a month. This had worried him for a while, but he figured that if he did not seek out the individual, he would not be able to rid himself of them if they were a threat.

He opens the door, and the flood of light blinds him for a second. As his eyes adjust, he notices a motley gang of people in the bar. One is but a barkeep, and rude as these may be, they never seem to be harmful. Another is a tiefling, but she seemed different than most; namely, happy. She is next to an eladrin who seemed almost to cling to her. There is also a half-elf clad in some sort of wild armor, and a blatantly pious dwarf. All seem to be on guard. This was obviously not normal, but he knows nothing of these people, so keep himself on guard. He fingers the ebony rod by his side as he sits down, both to be reasurred it was there and to warn any who may be watching him.

He stays silent, only waiting for something to happen.

OOC

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This feels like Clue, only Grail instead of Mr. Body; it was Brogrunn in the bar with the hammer!
Also, sorry to be posting late, but I fell asleep at like 8 and didn't wake up until about 7.

[MountainKing]

"I think, since orcs are well known to have lives about as long as Dwarves are tall," Brogrunn returned, "Then I will forgive you your ignorance. Thank you for your assistance." With that, the Dwarf turned to the Tiefling.

"Yes, I received the same note that you did. Our summoner is here, in the first room. Follow. We will meet this man together." There is no hesitation, no uncertainty in Brogrunn's heavy step as he moves through the bar proper, pausing at the first door, before rapping on it gently with one gauntleted fist.

[JupiterJazz]

*WHACK* A loud thud echoes through the small taproom, and you notice a male Dragonborn, his silver scales radiate in the low candle light that reaches him, his form towering well over anyone in the taproom as he stands atop the stairs as he assaults the floor with his tail.

"That'sss quite enough of you crude remarksss, Ssskula." His snout reveals a toothy maw as he speaks, "or would you like your right eye to match your left?"

The orc snorts obtrusively before hunkering off to the back, where the alcohol is kept.

"Now it seemsss we have one too many" he glances across the taproom at the tiefling, before dishing out a fang filled grin, which can only be described as quite a comedic site, watching a Dragonborn trying to grin wholeheartedly.

"No matter, but if you would pleasse follow me to my room," he gives a quick turn, matched by a soldiers march as he walks back down the dimly-lit hallway, and you can make out the sounds of a door opening.

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar lifts an eyebrow as the dragonborn appears. This must be our host, he thinks, standing up to get a better look at him past all of the other occupants of the bar. He smiles a little at the dragonborn's threat to the orc.

One too many? That must mean everyone here was invited in a similar manner, save, of course, for one. He scratches his chin and gives a fleeting glance at all of the others, lingering on the misplaced tiefling for a second or so.

He silently follows the dragonborn, his hand wrapped around the ebony rod, ready to strike at a second's notice. As he passes the girl, he says to her Don't get too caught up in this man's affairs, littl'un, if you're uninvited. This could be dangerous, especially for you.

[MountainKing]

"..."

Indeed.

Brogrunn did as he was bid, glancing only briefly at the Tiefling who presumably was bouncing about beside him before taking to the stairs, the wood creaking softly beneath his heavy booted step. His shield is slung over his shoulder, the haft of his warhammer thrust into a loop of his belt.

Let it begin, my Lady...

[Myshlaevsky]

Ibrahim

The half elf watches the dragonborn, as well as the other travellers who react to his presence.

Maybe not, then. One too many? Ughh, I can't afford for this to be some kind of mistake...

He tightens the scabbard at his belt and follows the others up the murky tavern steps. He listens in to the what the little, child-like man says and thanks The Queen that he's not the improper one here. When he passes the tiefling he leans in to her and her companion and whispers, "Ignore what the little man says. This looks interesting, and certainly better than staying in this dump, yes? Besides, danger, it's just a thing, you know? Happens everywhere."

He mimes a fanged mouth opening and closing with one hand. He turns his head to address the eladrin and makes a greeting in elvish, asking his name, then finishes by saying:

"Stay sensible, and we'll all be fine."

[GnomeNinja]

Hearing the elven-looking boy's response, Binnar purses his lips. He continues following the dragonborn, listening to the others' conversations, seeing if he can glean a bit of their attitudes off of them. It seems like the elfish boy is more than a little haughty, and the dwarf's introspection, especially with that symbol dangling around his neck, seems normal.

That eladrin boy seems more lost here than I am; a stranger in a strange land... He then hears the elfish boy's question, turning to face the eladrin and the elf-like one. He responds though it was not asked of him, in elvish of course, "I wouldn't go around reassuring everyone. Danger may be "just a thing," but it can be just a thing that kills. You don't need sensibility, you need to know what's more than likely going to happen, to prepare. Do not trust anyone here for a minute, except not to trust them."

[Myshlaevsky]

Ibrahim

Ibrahim takes a step back, dropping a heel to to the stair below, and raises his hands at the fresh-faced little man's tirade.

"Sure, sure. Preparation is the key, and all that. But chance catches up with everyone, and everyone meets The Queen in the end. That's just the way things work."

He claps his hands together, hard, and holds them like that for a second.

"Dangerous as my nonchalance might be, I think having an argument is Elvish is probably a little more conspicuous to these 'untrustworthy' folks," He says, punctuating the word with that familiar, annoying bending of fingers.

Ibrahim switches back to common and reaches out an open-palmed hand, "I don't want to fight, anyway. What's your name, little man?"

[MountainKing]

The sturdy Dwarf pauses on the stair, long enough to give those who seem to be bickering a baleful scowl.

"Enough. Whatever task is to be set before us, it is clear that we will be working together towards its completion. If a common employer and a common goal are not sufficient for you, then leave. Life is not meant to last forever; if you do not wish to be here, then do not waste your time."

My Lady... you are certain in all things... give me strength to do the same...

[BloodyAngel]

Kyra

OOC: (WOW you guys posted a lot while I was asleep. :P)

IC: Kyra followed the group curiously, looking over each of the newcomers as they entered... She tailed behind them quietly, arms behind her back, trying to imagine where each of them was from and why they were here. They were each armed... not an uncommon trait on the second tier... but still.

I'm Mr.Excidium's guide... He needs me. She said proudly, tagging along despite the protests.

She followed close to the Dragonborn, looking at the old lizard as he walked. He was apparently the mysterious Mr. Grail that had summoned everyone, and she was infinately curious why.

I won't be a trouble. I can help, Mr. Grail. She told the large dragon with a broad smile, Can I help?

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar scowls as the elfish boy speaks of death so nonchalantly. His left hand balls into a fist as he begins walking towards the near-elf man. He says to him, quietly in elvish, "You talk calmly about death, young one. Have you ever had anyone you care about die excruciating deaths before your eyes, as "the Queen" takes them? You cannot truly talk about death more than a child can talk about love." Binnar turns back around, following the dragonborn, looking a the floor in an effort to ignore the elfin man's remarks.

As the man offers his hand to Binnar, he looks up again. He responds in common, with a slightly elven accent, "I would say that it is Binnar, but since you are asking all the questions, I feel you should be answering them first. He pushes the man's hand away, and while turning around responds to the dwarf, "Life is not to last forever, but I would rather not squander it with naive children who believe themselves to be more mature than they are.

[Myshlaevsky]

Ibrahim

The half-elf replies tight-lipped, and in a neutral tone, "I am Ibrahim, Binnar, and I know death." Here he blesses himself with the bird-sign: two broad strokes of the thumb across eah pectoral, and one down the abdomen. "I've walked in the shadow of The Raven Queen under desert skies. Life is transient, and its impermanance is its only certainty. It is impossible to stop a passing hurt here," he clasps a fist to his breast, over the heart "like a wound, but know that the transaction itself is sacred. Life in death, under Her wings."

Ibrahim sighs, and drops his head in front of Binnar. "I am sorry to have offended you. I will enjoy life as I wish, and you as you do. In the end, the same fate will overtake us both."

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar

Binnar speaks to Ibrahim without turning around, in elvish, "Since we obviously have have differing views on death, as you seem to think it to be some act of the Queen, I think we should stop this conversation. Indeed, the only constant is change, and I think we should change the subject or stop talking. Preferably the latter. Binnar reaches down and pulls the ebony rod out of its slip, looking around at the shoddy walls of the hallway.

Binnar walks forward a little, to the heels of the dragonborn, asking in a matter-of fact tone, "What are planning for us, child of Io's blood? Why should you call four of us here for you?" He then tenses a little, and adds, "And by Ophiuchus, how have you been watching us?"

[JupiterJazz]

As you make your way down the dimly-lit corridor you take notice of worn down discarded furniture, and a pile of hay tossed out into the middle of the hall way. The dragonborn makes a sudden halt and beckons for the group to enter his room.

"It'd be best if we ssspoke in here, Gnome." He fixes his eyes on the rag tag band following him, "I assssure you everything will be explained."

As you make your way into the room, you immediately notice most of it's contents are are extremely out of place. Resting in the center of the room is four chairs facing an elaborate ravenwood desk, with ornate carvings depicting the holy symbol of Bahamut. Laid out on the desk is four pouchs, and from their lumpy appearance you can only surmise it is filled with either coin or gems. Sprawled out across the bed is a recently polished suit of plate mail, and a longspear again emblazoned with the holy symbol of Bahamut. Bits of hay still occupy the floor making a neat trail into the hallway. A brazier washes the room over in light sufficient enough to read in. A satchel takes it's resting place beside the desk, it's opened flap revealing a choice few ancient looking tomes.

"I am Grail, asss you have probably already ssurmised," he adresses everyone as they enter, and you take notice the Dragonborn infront of you might stand well over seven feet tall, "holy warrior of the God of my kin."

He gestures to the chairs laid out infront of him as he takes his seat at the desk, "You may make room on the bed, Tiefling, just sscoot the armor over."

[MountainKing]

(Don't mind me, just going to insert a quick remark into the conversation of earlier, since it ended while I was at work... >.>)

"One does not live on in death; to seek to deceive our Lady and extend one's life beyond what is your due, or to think yourself worthy of a "life" after death, is a thought full of sin." At that, Brogrunn turns more fully to the half elf, returning the sign of the Raven Queen perfectly, his holy symbol clinking softly as his armored thumb bumps it.

"Let us follow."

----------------

Brogrunn, for his part, stood quietly by the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he waited for Grail to finish speaking.

"Well met. I am Brogrunn Ironbeard, servant of the Raven Queen. What is your task for us? I wish to hasten onto our journey."

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar nods at Grail, following him into the room. The dragonborn seems odd, as if he has some purpose he feels the need to involve us in. I do hope it's not religious; we have enough fanatics.

Binnar takes a moment to take in the room, sighing when his eyes fall upon all of the Bahamut decorations. The ornately carved table and the ceremonial armor and spear seems to be in such contrast to the general disarray and uncleanliness of the room. He watches the others enter the room, and rolls his eyes at the dragonborn's comment about being a holy warrior. Binnar strides over to the table and sits on a chair, reaching silently to grab one of the curious bags.

[cRySTaL*NiNjA]

Excidium silently follows the rest of the group up to Grail's room. This group should certainly turn out to be interesting, he mused to himself.

Upon entering the room he chooses to pull out the chair at the small desk beside the bed, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible.

[BloodyAngel]

Kyra

Kyra held her tongue as several of the newcomers rambled about death and religion. Boring. Morbid and boring. She did not much care for the fighting, but could do little to slip in a word edgewise. Instead, she simply stayed close to her escort and ignored their arguing.

Kyra smiled to be included amongst the group, and made room for herself to sit... watching the old dragon with curious interest. Everything it did was interesting... It's speech, it's scales. She felt the urge to poke him, but doubted he would take that well. Never one to hold her tongue, she was also the first to speak to the creature out loud.

"So... What was the letter for?" She said energetically, "Some kind of... secret mission?

[Myshlaevsky]

Ibrahim

Ibrahim will grab whatever chair is untaken and pull it round to face the Dragonborn before sitting down.

Ugh, that didn't go well. I can see I'm really going to get one with these people: a little man with a big hangup and a dwarf who doesn't seem to see the balance in things, or anything other than seriousness. Calling me out about The Queen, too - idiot. He doesn't understand death, even if he's seen it. It's just... natural.

He glances over at the sitting Exicidium.

That why I saw more death in the feywild than anywhere else. Maybe I can convince the Eladrin to divulge a few stories. I'd like to hear someone talk about that place, again.

[JupiterJazz]

"No need to russh masster Dwarf," he scoots backwards in his chair for a moment, and leans over. You hear a creaking sound as he slides one of the drawers open, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of coins clanking together.

A few moments later he produces another equal sized pouch, making it five.

"Sssecret missssion, well you could call it that," he exposes a tooth filled grin in Kyra's direction, "Asss ssome of you might know, buried under this cssity, is a number of ancient monolithss, a right earned only by the mossst holy of my people from the ancient empire. Most of these burial ssitesss caved in on themsselvesss when Bahamut split the earth, and it was thought that the rest had already been excavated long ago."

He reaches into the satchel beside his desk, and produces an exceedingly oversized tome, "Now here recently I have taken notice of a local smuggling gang, as rumor ssuggestss they have been pawning off immense amounts of ancient gold coinsss, from what I can only guesss are thossse from the ancient empire. Rumor also hasss it that they sold off an ancient book, made well before the time of the great divide," he pats the book now sitting on his desk.

"I ssspent a large fortune accruing, this musty book," he looks down at the text with an almost zealous look in his eye, "I can't allow thesse misssfitss to belittle the history of my people in sssuch a manor. To sell our relicsss to ssstreet trassh and thievesss."

"If we can sssecure this ssssite from thesse thugsss, we can excavate it ourssselvesss," his posture straitens as he seems to tense up, and the normally regal, and dispositionate Grail, unravels himself with an angry, and vengeful expression his tone lowers a bit as he speaks, but it doesn't quite match with your expectations of someone who looks so angry.

After a few seconds he collects himself, before continuing, "Anywayss, my proposssal is ssimple, and I imagine quite favorable to you all," he begans with as he stands from his chair he grabs all the pouches laid out on the desk, before collectively placing one in each of your hands.

"One-hundred and twenty-five gold to all of you, and another three sseventy-five after you find and rid the burial ssite of thessse sssimple minded ruffiansss, not to mention the complete findersss fee for the entire treassure, except for my one requesssst. I'd like to keep one item of my choosssing for mysself assss a reminder of the faulty glory the ancient empire achieved. A personal guidance in my life of the wrath of Bahamut to thossse who fall from jussstice."

He now stands infront of his desk, leaning back on it allowing each of you to check your gold respectively, and to answer any questions.

[GnomeNinja]

Binnar opens up the sack sitting in front of him and peers in, taking in the sight of gold. As the dragoborn finishes his speech, he straightens up and looks at Grail, saying, "Let me get this straight. You first invite us in here assuming us to be some sort of sellswords - or sellspells for some of us, " He motions his hand to himself and Excidium, continuing, "After, of course, spying on us or somehow hearing of us when I am sure I am not the only one who does not enter combat or dungeoneering easily. He continues to stare at the dragonborn for a second, then waves his hand and adds, "And then, naturally, expect us to take concern in something that I am sure an amazing holy warrior as yourself could easily do." He says the "holy warrior" part with more than a tinge of sarcasm.

He looks over at Ibrahim and glances at the dwarf before returining his eyes to Grail. He then adds, "You also expect us to work together when some of us have ... grave differences in opinion.". He lays his elbows on the table and crosses his hands in front of his face, straining up to do so. "Whatever gave you the iota of a thought that this is either a possibly successful or even useful idea?"

[BloodyAngel]

Kyra

Wait... why are you fighting? The little tiefling will finally say, unable to hold her tongue anymore. You're all important people, like in the stories! You're going to pass up a chance to be big, bold heroes and dig through an old tomb... or fight bandits... or... I don't know... set a dragon on fire... over some argument?

Kyra's tone was equal parts disappointed and confused... as if she couldn't figure out why ANYONE would turn down the chance to crawl through some old tomb and fight monsters. She would be red in the face, where she not already roughly that tint naturally. Her tail will swish back and forth behind her, as it seemed too when she was excited.

You two even follow the same god, right? Aren't you supposed to... you know? Put your differences aside and help each other? I'm sure you're all important and you have lots of things... but I live down here. The girl's voice flitted a second with emotion, but she continued, I don't... have a whole lot... So if this nice dragon-faced man wants to pay me to get him something... it means I can get out of here, and go someplace where I can actually see the sun, and feel the wind... I'll do it! But please! I can't do it by myself...

The last bit is a soft plea... and the girl will stand still for a second... seemingly embarrassed at her own outburst, and look down to the floor beneath her.