The sound of the sloshing of the water deep in the well is muffled by the bickering and bartering of Fannen-Dar's marketplace. Booths and tables are set up around this large well, and townsfolk hustle and bustle around, buying and bargaining for items that the merchants sell. A symbol is carved into the roof of the well; it is the icon of the goddess Avandra, Guardian of Travelers and Maiden of Luck. It suits this town to have her symbol where all can see; Fannen-Dar is the prime place in the Thundertop Hill plains for commerce, and travelers flock to this town like bees to fresh flowers. However, few ever stay here for long. It's just a rest stop on many people's maps.
To you, however, this town means a little more than that.
Recently, Fannen-Dar has been plagued by a tribe of kobolds called the Ice Skulls. When merchants try to come to the town with a caravan of goods, the Ice Skulls strike from the Cloak Woods to the south, killing and stealing whatever they want. Many kobold tribes live in the area, but they usually don't cause this much trouble. The Fannen-Dar army has increased their defenses on the roads to and from the town, but still the Ice Skulls have made it so that the number of travelers and merchants to come to Fannen-Dar have lessened drastically since the attacks began. Nobody likes the state of things in Fannen-Dar, but nobody can do anything about it.
However, a mysterious note appeared on the wall of a well known inn, the Dragon's Den Inn, the biggest and most frequented inn and taproom in Fannen-Dar. The note read:
"To any heroes willing to step forth: the Ice Skulls must be stopped. I can help. If you want to stop the Ice Skulls, and also gain riches and fame along with it, meet me by the Well of Fortune on the morning of Kythorn 10."
Nobody in the town knows who posted this note, but it was not taken down. "It's about time someone tried to help us," the people said. "This situation can't be allowed to continue much longer." But who will be brave enough to accept this quest?
Why, you will be, of course.
It is the morning of the 10th, a bright summer day, and onlookers keep passing the Well of Fortune aimlessly, their only intent to see who will be their heroes. You have chosen to accept this offer for whatever reason you have. Maybe you have lived in Fannen-Dar a while, and are fed up with these raids, either because you want to receive goods from merchants, or want to leave Fannen-Dar quickly. Maybe you want to help just from the kindness of your heart, or maybe you just want the promised riches and fame. Maybe you took this quest for an indirect reason: to avoid staying in the town, with the hope that you will venture into the woods, to avoid someone or something. Maybe you have a personal vendetta against the Ice Skulls; a friends who was victim to their slaughter, or a treasure they stole. Whatever your reason, you are now approaching the Well of Fortune, and see the other heroes there as well. However, there is not another person in sight who steps forward to be the one who posted the note.
This is the beginning of your adventuring career. Have fun.
Thomas left the inn and went out into the summer sun. He shook Ren's hand, and patted him on the back as he turned to leave. It was hard to leave the place that he had called home, and the man that was near a father for him.
He really didn't have a choice though. He remembered the debt he owed to the Feylord, Midnight. The note stuck to the wall could only be fate. Glad he had saved enough gold for a sturdy blade and good armor, he went to see who his employer could be.
Thomas moved to the well, looking around for anybody else who volunteered. Seeing himself the first one, he sat, his back to the cool stone of the well. He looked around, townspeople were already whispering him name, and nodding in his direction. He was used to the attention, he played at the Dragon's Den nightly. He wasn't one though to turn down the opportunity for a performance. He pulled out his harmonica, and began to play a rousing marching tune.
Walking the streets of Fannen-Dar 1812 sees the notice posted to the door of the inn and decides this would be the perfect opportunity to expand his horizons.
Reaching the town square, 1812 sees Thomas at the well and walks up to him.
"Good Morning To You Good Sir. Are You The Individual Who Posted The Notice At The Inn?"
Thomas saw the 'forged approach him, with a purpose. It's purpose was known when it's question was posed.
"No, that wasn't me." Thomas hadn't seen many warforged in town. Fewer still came into the Dragon's Den. He stands and reaches out to clasp the hand of the warrior. "My name is Thomas," he says with a smile. "I'm waiting to see who would be our employer as well. Your new in town yes? I don't think I've seen you around before."
A dwarf strides straight to the meeting place. His bald head, sandybrown long beard in connection with his robes would let many think of a wizard, but instead of a wand or anything, he carries a black warhammer at his sight. As he steps closer, you can hear the clang of metal below his robes.
"Name is Morgran. Who is the one in charge and when we be starting killing kobolds. Cursed vermin!" He says in accent free common.
OOC
Mini stat block
Morgran Deepwell Perception: 12 Insight: 17 Low-light Vision AC 16 Fortitude 14 Reflex 13 Will 13 Hit Points: 30/30 Bloodied: 15 Temporary Hit Points: 0 Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1 Healing Surge: 7 Surges per day: 10/10 Encounter Powers: Diabolic Grasp Daily Powers: Armor of Agathys
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Hi I'm a comic and rpg nerd. Don't hurt me, please.
In the bustling marketplace a friendly-looking halfling walks between the stalls, absently looking at the goods for sale. At each stall he either talks to the hawker as a friend or bumps into someone he knows while looking at the goods. The path he takes is slow and meandering, stopping to talk more than he makes any progress. As he approaches the wall of the Dragon's Den Inn he hears some commotion. "Say, what's all the hubub, friend?" he asks a perfect stranger. "Thar's a note what's about gettin us some heroes, there is. I's lookin fer to see what kinda lads take the calls."
The halfling makes his way through the crowd, saying hello to some people he passes, until he reaches an elf friend of his. "Ah good, I was hopin' I'd find a friend here. You know I never learned my letters, mind tellin' me what's this thing say?" As his friend reads the post out loud, the halfling notices an angry commotion across the crowd as a man grabs the collar of the one next to him and spits out, "Where's my ring?!"
The halfling's eyes go big as he digs in his pockets. "Ah, thanks friend, you know I wish I had your learning, I truly do. Which reminds me, my uncle wants to invest in your pottery works! Please, take this ring and give all our best to your wife and children. Speaking of which, shouldn't you get back to them soom? Look at these long shadows!" With that he takes his leave, making his way through the crowd rather quickly. He's quite sure he didn't hear "Where'd you get that?" as he walks away. Yes, quite sure.
Later, at the Well of Fortune on the morning of Kythorn the 10th, would-be heroes gather and talk on what the future might hold. A large-faced halfling with a serious look and a dagger at his hip approaches and stands nearby. A grubby human child, clearly a gutter rat, sleeps on a patchwork rawhide mat in the filth next to a nearby streetlight. Two old women, roughly the same small height but one clearly a dwarf, walk slowly by, chatting about their husbands and sweeping the cobbles, occasionally stooping low to see if anything valuable can be found in the dust and debris.
"Oh, a man, quick with mouth and blade. I'm used to be a miner. Not now, after the accident... Now I killing stuff for a living. Only evil things, of course. Got a bit of special skills, too" Morgran says. As he says these last words, you notice shadows gathering around him as he moves...
OOC
Mini stat block
Morgran Deepwell Perception: 12 Insight: 17 Low-light Vision AC 16 Fortitude 14 Reflex 13 Will 13 Hit Points: 30/30 Bloodied: 15 Temporary Hit Points: 0 Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1 Healing Surge: 7 Surges per day: 10/10 At-Will Powers: Eldritch Blast, Hellish Rebuke Encounter Powers: Diabolic Grasp Daily Powers: Armor of Agathys
__________________
Signature
Hi I'm a comic and rpg nerd. Don't hurt me, please.
As the 'might be' heroes gather at the well, they are joined by yet another. Clad in a long dark blue tunic of fine cloth and sky blue breeches that fit loosely but were tied at the ankles to keep from flapping, the stranger's face was at first covered by the hood of a grey-blue cloak draped around her shoulders and standing out behind her slightly in the persistent breeze. Her belt had several pouches, and a small dagger. Between the lack of weapons and the good quality garb, it was possible this was some minor woman of breeding...
But a closer look revealed that her features were strange. Her skin a bit dark but with an unusual yellowish tint. Her eyes seemed a little narrow or squinty. Despite this, or even because of it, this newcomer carried herself with a sense of dignity, delicacy, and grace that made her exotic appearance seem mysterious and alluring rather than frightening or offputting.
She walked so smoothly that if one couldn't see her legs moving, it'd look like she was floating just about. As she arrives at the well, she doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. First she clasps them together, then she seems about to offer it for a shake. Finally she just gives a slightly awkward wave.
"Hello," the woman says with a trace of some kind of accent that's not immediately recognizable. "You're here because of the sign?"
"Yes. Name is Morgran. Do you want to offer your service, or are you the one who wrote the sign?" Morgran asks. A distant fire seemingly burning in his eyes.
OOC
Uses arcana to detect magic.
Mini stat block
Morgran Deepwell Perception: 12 Insight: 17 Low-light Vision AC 16 Fortitude 14 Reflex 13 Will 13 Hit Points: 30/30 Bloodied: 15 Temporary Hit Points: 0 Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1 Healing Surge: 7 Surges per day: 10/10 At-Will Powers: Eldritch Blast, Hellish Rebuke Encounter Powers: Diabolic Grasp Daily Powers: Armor of Agathys
__________________
Signature
Hi I'm a comic and rpg nerd. Don't hurt me, please.
The filthy boy seems to stir and rolls out of the gutter, in the process adding some of its slime to the filth already covering his arm. He grabs the rags he had kicked off in his sleep and drapes them over his shoulders. The rawhide mat he wraps around his waist and holds with one hand. Clearly limping, he meanders, bleary-eyed toward the well.
The stoic halfling looks disapprovingly at the woman who just arrived, but is instantly distracted by the horrible sight of the gutter rat. The halfling's revulsion is obvious, and his hand nervously fingers his dagger hilt.
The two old ladies continue their harvesting and one gives a whispered, gravelly "oh my!" at the sight of the woman in the dark blue tunic. The other seems to see something shining near the well and trots excitedly in that direction.
Thomas gives the awkward hooded woman a smile. "Yes, my name is Thomas," he gives a dramatic bow. "Our employer has yet to show up, unless that is you, of course."
The gutter rat hobbles past the group. The newcomer in the dark blue tunic notices that he is eyeing her. Then it strikes her that this boy isn't quite as young as he is trying to come off as. However, it is too late! The boy deftly swipes the dagger from her pocket and dashes off suddenly, a rag flying off his back. Everybody realizes that he wasn't a boy at all, but a grown halfling man, a thief disguised as a boy. It looks as if he is about to get away with the fancy dagger, but he is stopped by the other halfling that had been watching this predicament unfold. The two seem to know each other.
"Boldo!" the thief says, clearly a tone of resentment in his voice. "I didn't even see you there! What a...pleasant surprise."
The woman's eyes widen, and she says something incomprehensible, but clearly not well-meant.
She starts to give chase to the thief, even raising an empty hand as if to throw...nothing, seemingly...but trots to a halt when he stops to converse.
"You there!" she demands. "Return what you took from me!" Her speech is slightly accented, and a bit overly formal. She looks back at the others.
"I am not the one who left the sign, I apologize for my rudeness!"
Then her attention is on the halfling again.
"Give it back."
(OOC - Like my character, I apologize. Work's picked up, and my usual posting time in the evening's been cut into lately. Still, no excuse. I shall keep up better!)
Last edited by Shayuri; 1st April 2009 at 06:12 AM..
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