Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
"FOOD!!!!!" Fistar yelps as he sprung from the bed. He quickly drew on his leather armor and took out his dagger from under his pillow, and then proceed to strap on his rapier. He then dashed out the door yelling, "Meet you downstairs!" You can hear his footsteps quickly running down the hall to the stairs.
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
The little druid had woken with the dawn, like she always did. Not being able to open the windows had annoyed her. The dead trees in the form of planks under her feet were not the connection to the soil, there was no breeze on her skin, no touch of sunlight on her face, no sound of nature waking up... just the strange, alien sounds of the city.
She could feel the sun rising even when she could not see it, could sense the connection even in the midst of the weird collection of people and houses. And so she had taken a deep breath and turned to face the sun, her eyes closed in the darkness of the room.
She had finished channeling the energy to the directions she wanted quite a while before Fistar's exclamation startled her. The hawk startled with her, both of them let out a little alarmed sound, but by the time she whirled around to look at the source of alarm, the door was open and the wood elf was gone.
Realizing this was the time when the non-druids woke up, she nodded to herself and finished her morning ritual by re-painting the feather-symbols on her shoulders and ankles anew. It was a day of traveling. She packed her things, the hawk settled to sit on her backpack and then she turned to look at the tall woman.
He listened to the sounds of the inn stirring into wakefulness, sounds that were unfamiliar yet he knew them. The soft padding of feet caused his eyes to turn toward the door in narrowed slits to give the impression of sleep. The voice of the youngster calling them to a morning meal caused him to stir slightly, and slip out of bed leaving Zarraema to rouse at her leasure.
Very quietly, he checked their bags, saw to their weapons and readied himself and their things for traveling. The only evidence of his activity was the subtle creak of soft leather and a slight hiss as he ensured the weapons would come free at a moments notice. At last satisfied, he returned to his knees near the bed and awaited his Mistress' waking.
The strange sound of the boy's voice disturbed dreams that turned her stomach...quickly forgotten as the reality of wakefulness encroached upon them. As Kelzir stirred, she let her eyes drift open by a slit and followed his movements around the room. Even if she'd have risen with him, he would still have performed the same routine and would have rebuffed any attempt at help.
Dark Lady, give me the wisdom to know how to change this...
She was distracted from her silent prayer by his graceful, meticulous, and practiced movements. When he came to rest, on his knees, she was already sitting on the edge of the bed they'd shared.
"Thank you, Kelzir. Shall we dress and see to breakfast?" The question was more rhetorical than anything as she pulled herself to her feet and began the process of pulling on the thin, soft under-padding that protected her skin from the coarse leather of her armor.
His deep, melodic voice came softly forth, "Of course, Mistress. Once properly prepared, I shall see to assuaging your hunger."
He lifted the underclothing and rose, helping her don the padding. Once finished, it was the hardened leather pieces, one by one, ensuring the straps were securely fastened. Methodical and deft in his movements, it took little time before he was offering her sword in its sheath while knelt before her.
"Mistress, to facilitate our departure, should I look in on our more heavily armored companion? Removing it can be easy, replacing it is sometimes more difficult."
More than used to the morning ritual, she took her bastard sword in its baldric and hung it over her shoulder. "Our hunger, Kelzir. I am not the only one who needs to eat... and, perhaps we should both see to their well being and offer assistance in preparing. They do not seem to be graced with the blessing of someone with your talent for efficiency, Kelzir."
Knowing that he would follow without her orders, she shouldered her bags and headed for the door and the hall way.
With practiced ease, he scooped up the saddlebags and his own pack, sliding around her in the confines of the room. With a shrug in the process, the pack was over one shoulder, and a flip rendered the saddlebags to the other. Before she'd made it to the door, he'd stood before it and pulled it open as the other elf burst from the women's room with a shout. Deciding that no harm was in evidence out in the hall, he stepped gracefully to the side to allow Zarraema to depart.
The paladin was normally a light sleeper, but the events of the evening and the sleeplessness it had caused in her conspired to keep her asleep until Fistar's inelegant awakening. She grimaced at his noisy antics and slid out of bed, nodding politely to Etsia before settling to the floor for a few morning stretches.
"You can go on ahead," she told the druid. "I still need to armor up."
Again, normally she would not plate herself up for something as simple as breakfast, but there was threat in this city. One could never be too careful. After stirring herself to proper wakefulness, she set to the task of strapping on her banded mail and slinging her greatsword into its proper place across her back.
That done, she spent a few moments wrapping her braid up into the usual tight coil at the nape of her neck, before heading for the stairs.
Etsia had nodded at the tall woman and indeed headed downstairs, not really knowing what to do there. She could smell food, but wasn't quite certain how to acquire it. Remembering last night, she tried to locate someone who seemed to be carrying food back and forth and tug on their sleeve.
The wood elf was chatting up one of the servers, explaining to her how he single handily capture one of the pirates and scared the other ones away. He went thru the motions with his hands explaining a intricate move on how he had avoided being hit by a thrown dagger.
Fistar then noticed Etsia and waved her over.
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
For a moment the little druid hesitated, but then she nodded at the wood elf and then pointed him out at the person with food-trays. "I'll go there." She paused, considered, then added, "Thanks." and headed to the chattery elf.
As she approached Fistar, the hawk on her bag buried its head into her hair, no doubt in the lack of hawk-shaped earplugs.
The tavern is very busy this morning. A lot of people have come here specifically to hear the gossip about the late night visit of the Watch, as well as an assassination attempt on some strangers. Lots of looks make having breakfast a bit awkward.
You all eat and finish your preparing and decide it's time to move off onto the road. You all gather your horses and whatnot, and make your way to the gate. Passing through the city, you still feel the look of eyes on you. You are not sure if they are because the city is so abuzz with life, or those pirate thugs are lurking out in the corners of the city waiting for you to drop your defenses. Either way, once you pass the 40 guard occupied gate of the West gate, you breath a sigh of relief as you pass through.
You follow a well worn path to the outskirts of the town, passing wheat fields and sugarcane crops. Once you are a distance away from the loudness of the town, you feel a certain level of peace come over your party. No noise, except for the random cikadas making their chirping noise or a dragonfly buzzing around you as you pass through the cultivated outskirts of Gothmoor.
The path just to reach the area in front of the jungle takes half the day, and the tropical sun is beating down hard. You are beginning to sweat. The dark elves not used to the 'sun" and the paladin in her armor. All but Etsia who seems to be at home and her spirits seem up now that she's out of the town.
You all stop as a small ruins of what looks like it used to be the remainder of a tower, no group of rocks sit higher than your shoulder, but the pattern makes it seem there used to be a tower here. It is a common stopping place to rest and possibly camp if out of town too long. You all decide that it is time for lunch and give the horses their break.
Etsia patted Elmshadow on the neck, then hopped down from the big palomino's saddle. It was quite a drop for a small druid, but fortunately she was used to moving in the jungle so it did not really bother her. She took a moment to pat him for a while more, but then she led him to a convenient rock so she could stand on it and reach the saddlebags better. She drank some water and took a handful of her travel rations, mainly dried fruit and nuts. She set down some of the horsefeed while munching, then glanced around.
"We need to find water for the horses." With that said she left the horse standing there, fully trusting it to stay with her since he had said he would, and began exploring the area.
The platinum-haired woman slid down from her steed, Ghost, and gave the big horse an affectionate pat on the nose. Ghost whuffled at her mailed hand and she chuckled and moved to dig through the saddlebags, offering up an apple to the horse once she found it.
With Ghost trailing on the reins, crunching the apple, Jessamyn headed after Etsia. She had limited knowledge of the wilderness -- very limited indeed -- and thought it better to trust the little wild elf in such matters. Their ruined surroundings were dubious, considering the trouble she was sure would follow them. Though she had warned the Temple of Torm (there was no way she would leave Gothmoor without transmitting Kelzir's suspicions to the high priest or a trustworthy assistant), their small party was not aided further by the Temple. It was up to her to keep her companions safe.
She scanned the terrain as she trailed Etsia, not eating yet. Once it was safe, she might pause for food. Otherwise, she could always eat in the saddle as usual.
All along the trail, the wood elf chatted about his adventures as a child, never seemingly lost for words. How his friends had played tricks on him and how he had played them back. He then went into sordid details of how he had stayed overnight at a widow and her daughter, and that during the night they both had visited him.
His horse. Jumper, seem oblvious to his story and almost looked bored as the rest of the party, occasionally the horse would wander off as Fistar was talking to the great relief to everyone else. Finally after reaching the lunch stop the wood elf became silent and then exclaimed loudly, "FOOD!!!" he grinned at everyone as he jumped off his horse. "So what's for lunch?" he exclaimed totally ignoring his horse until he got bitten by it. "OUCH!!! Listen you flea bitten mongrol of a horse. I'm not your lunch, Can't you find some nice looking grass over there and leave me alone!" the horse looked at the wood elf almost comically then with ears laid back it turned around and started trotting off back towards town. Fistar, just realizing that if the horse got away, he would be on foot, started to run after it, yelling appologies.
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
The sounds of the nearby jungle do not go unheard. The loud cikadas and the tropical birds tell you that you are closer to the wilds of the jungle than the civilization of the city. Even the farms and small hovels of the commoners who refuse to live within Gothmoor's walls are seen as nothing but small colored squares across the vast wetland.
The sun's rays beat down for awhile, but then a large storm front moves in from the ocean, bringing clouds and a bit of respite. The clouds gather over Gothmoor and almost seem to hang over the city, before moving farther inland. Even as it moves inland, the clouds seem to hang over Gothmoor, leaving a bit behind.
You notice you are a half hour's ride to the base of the foothills of the Darksteel Mountain range to the northeast.
Etsia moves around a small wall of ruins and finds a small circular formation of stone, with a large bucket sitting beside it. The sound of cool fast rushing water can be heard down the shaft in the center of the round well.
Etsia grinned and took the bucket by the chain it was attached to, lowering it into the well and bringing it up again. She crouched down and sniffed at the water, then cupped water with her hand and sipped, trying to determine if it seemed safe to drink.
She nodded and gave Jessamyn a quick smile, then went to fetch Elmshadow and brought him to the well to drink, commenting "Found a well, can let the horses drink." to the others as she passed.
Of course if the sniffing or tasting of the water alerts her that the water is not safe to drink, she won't bring the poor horsie there.
Kelzir had seen to his Mistress' needs for food when they'd gone down, eating sparingly himself. Once finished, he went to the stables and readied the horse, bringing it around once brushed and saddled along with the saddlebags. He raised Zarraema up to the saddle, and they'd started off on their journey. Only a short stop at the Temple, paused their departure.
His eyes lowered, he nevertheless subtly scanned the area as they left. Rooftops and alleyways, even under the bright sun were typical places for anyone to watch from. But still he knew better, his eyes scanned doorways to shops, overhangs, fish-carts and the like. Hoping to catch sight of anyone that might be overly interested in their little party.
He didn't relax as they moved out of the walls of the city. If anything, it brought him more on edge. Especially with the elf's constant nattering about anything and everything under the sun.
He knew he slowed their progress, remaining on foot for the journey. As the sun rose into the sky, the heat made itself known. Not a dry heat from the chasms of the Underdark, but a wet and sticky heat. He shrugged it off, sipping from a waterskin occasionally to keep himself cool.
When they finally stopped at the small ruin, he scanned the area, looking for any signs of waylayers. The small elf's announcement about water was welcome, it would be important in this climate. He didn't trust it, but it was still welcome. And while silent during the entire trip, he finally gave voice.
"Perhaps the water should be tested. There are things that can be put in it, to foul the source. Lime being one of the easiest, while it will not kill, it causes considerable problems."
The ride out of the city frustrated her. She had hoped Kelzir would have the sense to ride with her, rather than walk; but no amount of convincing would work. It was not his 'place' he'd said. The heat and brightness of the sun did very little to improve her irritation - it felt as if the blinding orb meant to kill them with its brilliance. She could not decide whether it was better to pull her cloak over her to shield herself from its rays or remove most of her clothing to allow for release of heat.
A rest was more than a little welcomed and the advent of the well seemed a blessing. She knew with the discomfort she felt that Kelzir needed a rest as well. She knew very little of surface dwellers, and for all she knew, this was comfortable weather for them.
"Should it be found undrinkable, I can always attempt to purify it with the Moon Dancer's blessing. I should be able to bless enough for all of us to drink safely, refill our skins, and still give the horses enough to sate their needs."
((Spell says "Approximately 8 gallons"...absolutely no idea how much a horse drinks, but with five companions, that should be no more than 5 gallons (IF each of them drank until they were going to explode!) and leaves enough to at least water the horses, if we decide to use up the spell <nod nod>))
The sound of approaching horse hooves on the well worn road alerts your group of a newcomer to the ruins. Being told by the tavern keeper of the ruins, it's well known to be a place of respite from the heat, as well as a communal watering hole. The many preset firepits and already smoothed sleeping areas told you so when you arrived. The sound increases, and you can also hear the sound of metal on metal, telling you the rider and/or horse is armored.
You all are tucked behind the large wall, blocked from the road, as welll as the major opening of the ruins. This also means your horses, unless lead around the ruins, are still out front.
On the roadside you can hear a man's voice.
"Whoa, Whoa...Easy girl. Time to get you a drink."
Finally catching up with his runaway horse, Fistar head back to the ruins, he was berating the horse, which by all intent and purpose was ignoring the wood elf, when the wood elf heard the newcomer coming down the road. The rogue became silent, he quickly secured the reins to a small bush, and then moving silently he circled around the ruins to come up behind, hiding behind any kind of cover he could find.
Move Silently - (1d20+6)(25)
Hide - (1d20+4)(7)
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
Etsia had let Elmshadow drink the first bucket empty and was in the process of lifting up another when she heard the sounds. It did not sound threatening. No hunter in their right minds spoke aloud like that. It was also easy to see that a lot of travelers used the place for resting. No doubt it was just another traveler. And if it was not, it was always good to have someone out of sight from the rest of the group, should things get suddenly bad. She nodded to herself and continued taking care of the big palomino.
The paladin had been following Etsia, on foot, leading her horse, since their decision to pause here at the ruins. Thus she was right behind Etsia at this point, waiting patiently for the wild elf to finish watering her horse. It was a good time to nibble on a bit of food from her rations.
Wary as she was, she took note of the unfamiliar voice and frowned slightly. With Etsia's palomino deep into its second bucket of water, Jessamyn stepped back to glance around the corner of the wall, looking toward the road.
Doesn't look like the guy is visible from my position -- which is where Etsia is, regardless of my placement on the map, since Jessamyn has been practically on Etsia's heels since my last post. So no rolling, just noting interest.
Fistar looked towards the newcomer and decided to have a closer look. He looked harmless to him for the moment and possibly just another traveller on the road. But to be on the safe side, he snuck up closer to see what kind arnament he has and possibly to see if he carried a pouch of gold.
Sneaking up to the first block of the ruined wall, assuming that is what the block that is between him and the newcomer.
Move Silently - (1d20+6)(10)
(Hiding behind the wall when he gets there..)
Hide - (1d20+4)(23)
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
The man sat high in his saddle. The barded horse let out a bit of a whinney as the equally armored human man slid from the saddle to the ground. A bald and deeply tanned head was the only portion of the man not covered with once finely crafted plate. As he turns to his horse, you catch sight of three huge scars running from the left side of his forehead, down the left side of his jaw. The eye in the path of the scars seems whited over. His unremarkable gray cloak flaps lazily as the man moves about. He speaks a strange whispered voice to his horse in a language you have not heard, nor can hear from your distance from him.
Huge spaulders sit on his shoulders and are intricately carved with large ornate bats in flight and the brass-inlaid chest piece moves with seperate pieces allowing the man to move freely. The huge, thick bladed war sword on his back, has a large circle at the pommel, all of the handle and ring wrapped in leather. two small sticks sit in his belt as his hips.
The man moves to tie his palimino near the remaining horses and the man pauses, before looking around the ruins. Not seeing anyone, he ties his horse to the post and takes a few steps back, giving himself room. He raises a gauntleted hand to his cheek and lifts his head upward.
The paladin tilted her head slightly, catching the sound of the man's voice though not the more subtle rattle of armor beyond the few ruin walls. Noting Etsia still busy with her horse, she gave Ghost's flank a pat and loosed her reins, stepping by the even-tempered horse toward the end of the wall.
"Watch her a moment, will you?" she said in a low tone toward Etsia, trusting the little druid to do so as she turned the corner.
Raising her voice significantly, she called back, "HAIL THE ROAD!", long strides taking her in that direction at a steady but unhurried pace.
The little druid nodded at Jessamyn and turned to pat and groom Ghost's mane. When Elmshadow finished the second bucket, she set some more horsefeed on the ground for him and lifted another bucket for Ghost, then returning to the patting and grooming (and making little braids) in the horses' manes.
The man caught sight of Jessamyn and walked to the side a few steps to make himself more visible. Seeing the armored warrioress, the scarred man barely hid a smile as he politely made a half attempt at bowing. He made sure his hands were out to his sides, showing no weapons in hand and stood back up looking directly at Jess.
" I come for shade and water for my horse and I. Mind if we share some?" The man motioned to his lathered horse, heavy breathing and it's tongue lolling out the front of it's mouth. The scarred man looked back to Jessamyn, letting his brown eyes scan her for any sort of heraldry or even a holy symbol or regional "tell".
Still on the other side of the wall from the two hidden dark elves, and on the other side of the ruined building from Etsia, The man makes no attempt to search the ruins or nearby brush for any other "hidden people". His brown eyes look to Jessamyn, waiting for a Aye, or Naye.
You creep against the one low wall, with a small hole in the ruined pile, you have a perfectly concealed view of the man. He seems to be now talking to someone, who is blocked form your vision by the other ruins, and the size of the peep hole you are using. The scarred man is standing in front of the building, which holds your Dark Elven friends and the other females. He has not made any move towards his weapons, and he seems to purposely be NOT making any hostile movements.
((OOC: Fistar, make a listen check for me.roll your listen skill and add whatever bonus you have for listening to it.))