It Came From The Deep. IC

[Turbit]

It’s either very late at night or really early in the morning. None of you are really sure you, and the rest of the capital city of Contar, have spent most of the past 3 days partying since the announcement of the end of the 100 year war with the Altier Empire. The night is cool for early September but it is still pleasant. The wine and ale have been running freely and the songs and the music pour out of the inns loudly and joyful.

Presently you’ve found yourselves in The Queen’s Garters Inn. It’s an inn near the center of the capital near the King’s keep and thus in the better part of the city. The furnishings at rich and the good and drink good. All in all it is a good place to be on a night like tonight.

There is a band in the corner with a Elf and a gnome currently doing a duet. The bar is on the west side of the large main room and has a door leading into the back. One the East side is the main entrance and the street beyond it. A large staircase takes up most of the southern wall and a large fireplace then north. Table fill the room with benches for the patrons to sit on. Several have been pushed up against the wall so that a space for dancing is clear.

Barmaids move swiftly through the crowd constantly replacing empty glasses and mugs with full ones. The Teifling owner, Mistress Jegkins, stands behind the bar smiling and talking to guests while her son Achiles, or sorrow as he tries to get people to call him, hauls casks and kegs up from storage.

The crowd mostly consist of wealthy merchants, retire adventures and lower nobles but some of the 'riff raff' have made their way in and are enjoying themselves along side those of a higher class.

[Adjudicator]

Ulmo Safeport

Ulmo climbed up on the barstool and quaffed his mug of ale. The party had lasted for days and it was a great chance to trade in on the natural happiness of everyone in Contar. The halfling hadn't been back to the city since he first joined the army over three years ago. And even then, he had only been in Contar for a few days before deciding to enlist. He didn't regret the decision, but the naturally inquisitive Hin had enjoyed having the chance to wander about the streets and simply take the sights in. When evening fell, he found his way to a nearby tavern and joined in the drinking.

The army always gives us a taste for beer, he thought with a wry grin. Still, it was nice to drink ale he'd bought (and could afford) instead of having to raid enemy supply lines for a simple pint. Looking around the Queen's Garters, Ulmo took in the scenery and clientele with a practiced eye.

Spoiler

Show

Perception check for anything interesting in the bar: (1d20+7)[27]

[stupnick]

Bofthic


Bofthic is doing as he has been for almost 3 days now, Sitting at the bar drinking some dwarven ale. What is rather strange, is this dwarf hasn't really moved for 3 days, he is there when you get up and there when you head off to bed. And come to think of it, you don't remember seeing him get up during the day to drain out the ale he has been drinking.

Every 30 minutes or so, he raises his glass and gives out a dwarven cheer.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Berrus Voidstar

Berrus sat in a dark, cliched corner of the tavern, his large scythe propped up against the wall. His large scythe, cold features, and dark, somewhat primitive leathers kept the average patrons of the bar wary of him, but noone seemed to pay him any unkind attention. Berrus had celebrated the same as the rest, though it had been a good day and a half before he had figured out what it was for. He had, of course, learned of the conflict and the rivalries of the two empires in the books of history in his mothers home, but since he had lived so far from civilization for most of his life, he had felt detached from the conflict. Berrus had quit the serious drinking about a day ago, and while he'd still had a drink or two in that period, he was still far more sober and level-headed than most people in the tavern. At the moment he had a half-way empty drink in his hand, which he had been slowly enjoying for the past hour or so.

[Gypsy0001]

Brianne

Brianne spent the last three days half-heartedly participating in the celebrations. On the one hand, war was over and the realms were safe once again.

On the other hand, she felt like she'd had little opportunity to contribute to the victory. She'd spent the few years before she came of age training herself in the arts of battle, hoping to perform valiantly in glorious battle. But as it was, she'd only dealt with a few skirmishes from some hungry kobolds... hardly glorious.

And so she smiled as she watched the dancing and singing, but also spent a fair amount of time sighing wistfully and staring into her mug of ale wishing she'd been able to do a bit more.

[fendrin]

Evandis

Evandis sits at a corner table. His staff is propped up in the corner behind him, and his longsword is slung across the back of his chair. The war may be over, but he is still dressed in his fighting kit, which consists of buckskin breeches with a coarse natural color linen shirt and green leather cuirass with a samara logo.
He sips from a tall thin glass of a beverage known in the feywild as as 'fire nectar liqueur'. It smells of flowers but tastes like liquid fire.

On occasion when the room erupts in cheering, Evandis uses his magic to create the sound of a brassy fanfare or set off bursts of colored sparks in the air.

OOC: I love ghost sound and prestidigitation as free at-wills. They really let a wizard be a wizard, if you know what I mean.

Here is an image of a norway maple samara, so you know what I'm talking about.

[cRySTaL*NiNjA]

Kurnoc sits at a table along the side of the room, feeling entirely uncomfortable. He drinks water from his waterskin, growling at any of the waitresses that approach him. He had been told that this is where he could meet with the man that was his people's liaison to the city, but as of yet he hadn't been seen.

[Aevylmar]

Araeus steps into the room and looks around, his eyes lighting up when he sees his fellow Eladrin. He signals a barmaid for a glass of wine, and walks over to Evandis with a smile on his face, dodging the more rambunctious drunks as he does so. In Elven, he says "Been a while since I've seen another Eladrin in these lands, let me buy you another of whatever you're drinking. So, what's your name? I'm Araeus."

Damath is sitting at a table in the back, smiling quietly as he sips his own drink as he thought of what had come before. He'd been halfway to the battlefield after finishing his training at the Sorceror's School, when what happened but the war was over and he was coming back to the capital. Returning his thoughts to the present day, he pulled out a book, a delicate inkwell, and a quill pen and spoke a single word. The pen's tip flared with a bright light, and he began to write.

[Grymmheart]

Zeal stood unmoving in the tavern. He had returned he for the past few days for some unknown reason. Although he seemed to like being around others while they had fun, his construct nature did not properly allow him to personally enjoy the moment. If the thought could be truthfully construed as a wish, then maybe he did wish he could share in the feelings obvious shown by the revelry these past days. But song, jokes, even a rare alcoholic beverage did not change his demeanor one bit. He guessed the reason he returned to such a spot so often was because his looks seem to bring certain emotions from the warm-bloodeds he interacted with. And his 'wish' was that by surrounding himself with such emotion, he would learn to better understand and possibly emulate it in the future.

Accepting fate as it is, he looked outside himself to the faith he obtained through Pelor and just waiting.

[fendrin]

Evandis

Evandis extends his hand in greeting to the younger Eladrin.
"Quite generous of you, Araeus. I insist that the next round be on me. My name is Evandis, formerly chief arcanist of the Samarans. Now that the war is over I can finally return to my studies."

[Jokes]

Léon

After three days, Léon finally decides to go out and celebrate. Up until now, peace had been some far fetched ideal. Not one day went by where he wasn't healing some headstrong young man who felt the urge to enlist. Now, Léon suddenly had nothing to do...

He enters the Inn and takes a cautious glance around the room, hoping to see someone he knew. Not seeing anyone, and seeing most patrons were having fun on their own, he decides to find an empty table. Signalling the barmaid for an ale, he makes his way to the back. He notices an impressive suit of armour, not the kind one normally sees in taverns, and decides to take a closer look.

He runs his hands across metal, memories flooding back: the joy of the fight, the pain of loss...

Léon is broken from his reverie when the armours head looks down at him, its eyes glowing. Taken aback, it takes a moment to realise the armour was a warforged.

"Oh, you must be one of those new soldiers." He extends his hand to the warforged, "I apologise, I thought you were a suit of armour, My name is Léon, it's an honour to meet someone such as yourself. Do you mind?" Léon studies the warforged carefully, he'd been around to see the acorn become the oak, but he had never seen anything like this. He shook his head, "I thought my curse was bad..."

The waitress bings over his ale and Léon bids the warforged join him. "You are free to, perhaps sitting down no-one will think the same as I did. I saw a suit of armour in a northern tavern completely filled with rubbish. I'd hate to see someone try and shove a scrap parchment in you!" He laughed heartily, "In any case, Pelor be with you, brother." He makes his way to an empty table.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Berrus Voidstar

Berrus looked around once more, and noticed another man entering. As he looked around he noticed a lot of soldiers. Soldiering, a good way to die he thought, he continued to survey his surroundings until he came upon a most peculiar sight, a suit of armor that talked. He thought back to his studies, and the closest thing he could think of was a golem, but they were rare, and would probably be guarding some enclave of arcana, not sitting around in a tavern drinking. Berrus was fascinated, by this odd man-machine. He picked up his Scythe and moved to a stool a bit closer, but not too close so as to be conspicuous. His sharpened ears perked, Berrus listened closely to any conversation that might be buzzing around him, particularly from the strange mechanical man and his elven friend.

Spoiler

Show

I don't really know if I should be rolling for anything, but just incase I'll use my best judgment for insight and perception. insight (1d20+9)[10] perception (1d20+2)[19]

[Aevylmar]

Araeus clasps Evandis's hand. "Now that offer I'll gladly accept. So, you're a scholar? There's a double pleasure in meeting you - It's been almost as long as I met someone who cared for knowledge, as it has been since I've met someone of my own blood.

[fendrin]

Evandis

"I am a wizard." He says with a smile, sending up another burst of sparks as a drunk attempts an elocution way beyond his sobriety, but earning many cheers from the crowd regardless. "Any wizard that is not a scholar isn't a true wizard at all."

[Grymmheart]

Leon

If Zeal had the tendency to be annoyed, he might have shown such emotion as the little man babbled and ran his hand across his body. But either he had grown used to such behavior from warm-bloods or he never had the inkling to get upset at the first place, he just looks down and offers a few words of greeting. After the invite to sit down and share a drink, Zeal replies

"It would be a waste of good money for I do not need to drink, and although ale can alter my proprioreception and balance, I have never gained the 'happy' state you warm-bloods seem to gain with such drink. I also prefer standing to better survey my surroudings. Briefly looking down at the seat he continues, "And I doubt my bulk would be supported by such flimsy craftsmenship."

After pausing a few seconds with his perpetual blank expression, he finishes "Oh, I am called Zeal and Pelor be with you."

[Aevylmar]

Evandis

"I am a wizard." He says with a smile, sending up another burst of sparks as a drunk attempts an elocution way beyond his sobriety, but earning many cheers from the crowd regardless. "Any wizard that is not a scholar isn't a true wizard at all."

Araeus nods. "Point made." Araeus begins speaking Scholarese, a dialect I fear I cannot translate.

[Jokes]

Léon

"Suit yourself, Zeal, but drink isn't always needed for merriment. They say 'misery loves company' but I know the same can be said for happiness." Realising the wisdom in his own words, he decides instead to sit with a young half-elf sitting nearby.

"Hail, friend," He points his head towards the warforged, "ever see anything like that before?" He takes a swig of ale. "Once saw a golem up north. The daftest thing you'll ever see. Didn't help that the wizard controlling it was mad as a hatter. Ordered it to guard the supply room then he teleported back to the capital. He forgot to let the golem know that certain people were allowed access, and no-one was willing to go anywhere near the thing." He leans back and laughs, "A week later, the mage comes back to a half starved camp, hell bent on getting their hands on him! Fellow dismissed the golem then teleported away as quick as he could. Never saw him around after that."

[cRySTaL*NiNjA]

Kurnoc decided he'd had enough of waiting and went up to the bar and ordered a drink. He sat down next to a halfling who seemed to be looking all around the room in excitement. "You ever see one of those,"he says as he points to warforged across the room, "them Warforged are damn hard to track down. A whole patrol of them came into my peoples forest, took us three days to hunt them down, they don't need to eat or drink, we were hard pressed to get ahead and set up an ambush."

[Adjudicator]

Ulmo Safeport

Ulmo looked at the man who took the seat next to him. "I worked with one for several years during the war. Reliable fellow and a great shield when we came under attack by archers. He'd just stand there and the arrows'd bounce off of him."

Ulmo extended his hand. "Ulmo Safeport. Former Acquisitions Officers with the Contarian 3rd Regiment. Recently released and enjoying the celebration. And you?"

Spoiler

Show

Any chance we could either get a list of character sheets in the OOC thread or people could put them in signatures? When we went with all of the applicants, I didn't bother to memorize PC descriptions and races. And cRySTaL*NiNjA (boy is that an annoying name to write) didn't give any physical description of Kurnoc, so I don't even know what race he is.

[cRySTaL*NiNjA]

"I'm Kurnoc, nice to meet you," Kurnoc shakes the little man's hand, "I was a protector of the forest of Galethsspyre."

[Aevylmar]

"Galethsspyre? Wait, a Dragonborn?" Damath looks up from his writing, puts his books in his bag, walks over to the nearby table where Kurnoc and Ulmo sit. "Ah! A Dragonborn of Galethsspyre! My father praised your people... When you were on our side of the war, that is. Kurnoc, you say your name is?" He nods politely to Ulmo, as well. "I'm sorry - I forgot to introduce myself. Damath."

(( OOC: Yes, I'm not mentioning the 'Count' part just yet. I'd rather use it as a hammer at some point. ))

[stupnick]

Bofthic

The dwarf at the bar stands up once again and raises his mug into the air. May the ale keep flowing into our mugs, like the blood was flowing off our axes.

With that he takes a big swig and sits back down ordering another round for himself. And just like always he takes a scan of the bar to see what's going on and who is doing what and talking to whom.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Berrus Voidstar

Berrus looked at the elf who had been speaking with the odd metal man as he spoke to him. I have never seen such a being, and I can recall nothing quite like him from my mothers books. I at first thought he was a golem, but they act nothing like he does. I come from the far north, in a lone village by the mountains. We lie far to the north of a dwarven settlement, carved into the stone as are all their homes, and I visited there once, and saw a mighty golem carved of stone and blessed by their clerics, and it was nothing like him. He nodded at the Warforged. What with all the interest in the warforged and the elf, he did not notice the rest of the bars goings on.

[Jokes]

Léon

"Aye, it's a Warforged, a bit like a golem, but with sentience. I heard rumours of them from the new recruits up north." He chuckles, "I always thought they'd be bigger, going by the rumours. 'Great towers of metal that can crush an orc like a scholar crumples paper.'" Léon looks over at Zeal and deduces that the warforged probably could do that quite easily.

Remembering his manners, he extends his hand to the half-elf. "Léon Pathan, cleric and former Hospitaller with the 32nd Regiment."

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Berrus Voidstar

Berrus nods slowly. Warforged eh? Nothing like them from my mothers history books, but they are rather old. Its odd, I traveled here from my village, in the deep north, but on my travels southward I never saw such beings. However, I kept well clear of any battles I saw, being as I was among a merchants company. He took the elfs extended hand Berrus Voidstar, I... deal with the stars mostly. I came here to expand my study of astrology. Berrus was sensitive about the subject of his abilities. He had found some people were not too receptive of those called "Warlocks".

[Jokes]

Léon

"Stars? So you are a scholar of sorts then?" Léon eyes the eladrin, whoo seem to be speaking gibberish. "Well I hope you aren't like those astrologers in the kings court. 'War won't last more than a year,' they said. If I'd known they were wrong, I never would have enlisted."

He leans back on his chair, "but then, if they'd said 100 years, no-one would have enlisted, and the war would have been over in a year." He shakes his head, "Better a hundred years of war and a future of peace, than a year of war and a lifetime of slavery."

He raises his mug "To peace!" and drains the ale and signals the waitress for two more.

[fendrin]

Evandis

"To peace!"
He echoes the cheer of an elf at a nearby table, and takes a sip of his liqueur.

[Turbit]

As the band finished their last piece a perceptive person might notice a strange rippling on the surface of their drink. Most would right it off as the result of the celebrations going on in the city but as the band was about to start their next song, "Under the Asrel Tree", small objects began to skitter across the tables and the counter before the whole world jumped a good foot. Throwing everyone one about the room. From the distance an unearthly roar can be heard. The cry is filled with sorrow, pain, anger and doom. It is the cry of the end times.

There was a massive crashing and smashing as a cloud of dust, soot and dirt blew into room before one of the main support beams from the ceiling collapses. Separating the room into two.

OCC:

Party 1:
Damath
Léon Pathan
Bofthic Battlehammer
Ulmo Safeport
Kurnoc

Party 2:
Evandis
Brianne
Araeus Arantius
Zeal
Berrus Voidstar

Party two please head to the It Came From Deep IC Party 2 post please

[stupnick]

Bofthic

Getting thrown from the barstool Bofthic stands up, drawing his mace as he does. Alright, who's responsible for that?? WHO SPILLED MY ALE??? Someone is going to pay for that. Pulling the shield off his back, he prepares for a nice little fight. Looking around the room Bofthic tries to figure out what caused that and what is really going on.

Perception Check - (1d20+5)[23]
Insight Check - (1d20+5)[15]

[Turbit]

What is left of the room is in shambles. A wall of rubble lays in what was once the middle of the room. You hear noises coming from the rubble, it's possible that there are people trapped under it.

The Counter is cover in rubble and you can see an arm sticking out of it. it moves slightly. The main entrance has been block as well and will need to be cleared. The ceiling is creaking ominously, it doesn't look like it will last long. Also there are several people trapped under the some debris.

OOC: Okay roll Initiative.