[D&D 4e] IG's "The Witchlight Strand"

industrygothica

Adventurer
Luther Dien and the barbarian Kail make their way through the celebrating crowd at the Wyvern's Nest in upper Port Magalie. Kail has left the small group still remaining at the table--Druthruss, Pier, and the rugged Vatan--a token--a cold arrow--to take back to the barbarian tribes of Hallowdale in honor of his fallen King Lolgoff.

The nights are growing colder. The strange Witchlights hang in the horizon, and the eastern savage races are growing restless.

The journey to Hallowdale will not be an easy one.

[sblock=OOC]It'll be a bit before we're ready for a battle, so please take this opportunity to do a bit of roeplaying and give your characters a chance to get to know each other while you're finishing your builds.[/sblock]
 
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Redrobes

First Post
Drůthruss stares into his pint and feels a little glum. The cheery thoughts of free beer and food is tempered by the prospect of a long journey. Tomorrow will be wagon hunting and equipment buying and he still thinks that the wagon will look like a big fat target for goblins across the barren lands thats supposed to be the bone hills.

"Hmph.. Aw heck thats tomorrow and I am in a warm inn right now."

He studies the crowd and takes a moment to look at Port Magalie characters. After all he is a long way from home.
 

Korash

First Post
"Hmph.. Aw heck thats tomorrow and I am in a warm inn right now."

[startScotishAccent]Vatan raises his mug at this muttered sentiment "Aye, a warm inn where the ale flows freely. Cheer up friend dwarf, for a new adventure begins. Though, 'tis it is me first that be on land. Fightin' the scurvy pirates.....now there be many a tale to be told. I remember when ............." [endScotishAccent]

The tale is long. Long on volume, long on waving arms and hands, and very long on discription (a certain fellow with wild red hair and flaming beard prominent). Not well told, but told with much enthusiasim.
 

renau1g

First Post
A man sits at the bar nursing a drink, the sun-reddened skin of his face shows he spends much time outdoors. His large, sinewy muscles prove him as a strong man, perhaps a blacksmith? Maybe a farmer? It's hard to tell as he enjoys another beverage, toasting to the bar, "To another successful harvest!" the man says.

After the toast, his eyes settle on your table for a few moments, he appears to be evaluating you, then turns back to his drink.

[sblock=Insight DC 18]
Bluff (1d20-1=18) Wow...19 with my first roll.

The man is putting up a facade with the toast.
[/sblock]
 

Redrobes

First Post
Drůthruss notices the man with the tan and muscles and being one used to dealing with cities alert to the unusual thinks theres something a bit wrong with that conversation...

Perception roll 17

...and between the handwaving coming in from the side and thick accent rolling over the top. Nudges Pier.

"I bet that guy could harvest a few goblins for us...."

"Look, I just annoyed a barbarian not fifty hammer blows ago so thats my quota for the day. Someone see what he's growing in that field of his."
 

Theroc

First Post
In through the tavern door walked a being who certainly did not appear to fit in particularly well. His body was covered in loose chain armor, across his back a rather large sword rested as the figure strode in.

The most notably different features of the man would be his feet, and his face. He wore no boots, the man barefoot with toes that ended in what almost appeared to be talons. As one's gaze rose to his face, they'd see an unusual visage. Between his toothy grin revealing pronounced canine teeth, and along with a slightly flattened nose. Thick sideburns led up towards pointed, almost elf-like. He took a seat nearby and looked about, simply observing for the present.
 


Midgardsormr

First Post
[sblock=Successful Insight check]
1d20+4 → [16,4] = (20) [/sblock]

Pier turns around on his bench and looks at the supposed farmer. "Yes, I think you're right. Pardon me a moment." He stands, leaving his staff behind, and walks over to the bar, where he orders a refill and turns to the man who spoke. "To the harvest." He lifts his cup and takes a pull, his senses alert to minute details that speak of this man's actual vocation: well-developed muscles in the forearm and wrist, that way he carries himself that says he knows his way in a fight, the smell of healing herbs. This man is no farmer, nor blacksmith for that matter.
 

Korash

First Post
Vatan, finally finishing his tale, looks at the fellow indicated by Drůthruss. [startScotishAccent]"Aye, that one looks to be weathered by rough seas and lived to tell the tale. Strange set to his sails, but looks ready for an adventure if you be askin' me". He raises an empty pitcher for a refill, and asks "What say you to us invitin' him to our board for some of this fine food and drink? Mayhap he could join us on our voyage to the barbarians."[endScotishAccent]
 

renau1g

First Post
[sblock=Successful Insight check]
1d20+4 → [16,4] = (20) [/sblock]

Pier turns around on his bench and looks at the supposed farmer. "Yes, I think you're right. Pardon me a moment." He stands, leaving his staff behind, and walks over to the bar, where he orders a refill and turns to the man who spoke. "To the harvest." He lifts his cup and takes a pull, his senses alert to minute details that speak of this man's actual vocation: well-developed muscles in the forearm and wrist, that way he carries himself that says he knows his way in a fight, the smell of healing herbs. This man is no farmer, nor blacksmith for that matter.

"To the harvest" the man nods, then says "I'm afraid you are not known to me stranger. Name's Jude, what are you and yer fellas doing round here? Ain't no trouble is there?" he asks, extending a meaty hand out in greeting.
 

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