Avatar of Chaos

ChaosEvoker

First Post
In game specs:
Bold for flavor text describing new areas and events
Italics for IG speaking
Underline for showing OOG statistical things (rolls and such)
(Parenthesis) for OOG talk
Regular text for most IG explanations and describing actions and such

Alright here we go:

In the mysterious land of Faerun many strange things walk the earth but not any are nearly so strange and myserious as what is about ot come....

The tavern/inn at Waterdeep is a friendly place, large and with a legandary entrance into Undermountain. The innkeeper/bartender Durnan, a retired adventurer, eagerly serves any aspiring adventurers. This inn is where you find yourself today. There is a serene calm about the place, adn lighthearted drinking and storytelling is taking place. You are apporached by an attractive young barmaid who asks is a high-pitched, yet quite cute, voice for your orders.
 
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Remo, always wanting to keep his mind sharp, orders beef and a glass of goat milk. Really excited to finally be on his own, out of his parents house. He keeps on looking around hoping to find something or someone interesting.

(spot +5)
 

The barmaid nods to Regis and writes down his order.

News sir? Nothing in particular. Another one of those...oh what do you call them? Ill....Illith...you know those things with the tentacles that suck out your brain? MIND FLAYERS! That's it! Tried to come up the well that leads into Undermountain. Guards and such got rid of it quickly, so it was no problem. Other than that nothing new. Anyone else want anythign to eat or drink or both?

(Alright I'll take the spot +5, very clever)

Remo, you see a famous Bard in Waterdeep. After a bit of thinking you remember his name: Bartholomew. You remember he could weave a good tale, sing a good song, and cast a powerful spell, sometimes at the same time. Qutie a character by reputation, though something about his face seems odd, almost off, or not quite right...
 
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Ignazio smiles at the young lass, his crisp white teeth standing out from his dusky brown face. A half-pint of a nice full-bodied merlot, a steak of venison, rare please, and some crisp bread. If you have any soft goat cheese, I'll have that as well. As she departs, he'll sit back in the chair making it creak slightly, taking in the general good atmosphere.
 

As Ingnazio orders, Mulch can't help but shake his head. Aye Miss, if you've still got the patience to take one more order, please bring me a bowl of whatever you've got in the kitchen that's hot and quick.
 

Remo, waits for his plate, while watching what the bard is up to. He will also chat about nothing and everything with the people at his table

(Are they the other member of the party, if so does he know them already or Is he sitting near NPC?)
 

(No he's not a member of the party, just an NPC. He's fairly close.)

The cute, young barmaid writes down the last orders without missing a beat, smiles, and turns to the kitchen, her youth only exemplified in the graceful and smooth way in which she walks.

The bard kind of half picks at his mandolin, although he seems very wary of the instrument. He looks around and then begins fiddling with a golden amulet containing a mysterious green stone.

The barmaid shortly returns, her dress seemingly pulled a bit lower to reveal a bit more than average and she walks to the sorceror delivering his food first. She smiles at him affectionately and then passes out the other orders. They are all correct and are quite good.
 

Mulch begins digging in to his meal with relish, managing to get most of the food into his mouth rather than on to his shirt.

He notices the bard, and impatiently shouts at him in his husky voice, Are you going to play something for us, or are you just going to fiddle around with your jewelry?
 

Ignazio raises his wineglass in a subtle toast to the barmaid, half-concealing a warm smile. He begins, first swirling the merlot, and giving it a long inhale, then taking a small sip which he lets flush through his mouth. After the initial sense of ritual is over, he begins to slice up the steak and eat it. Occasionally interjecting another sip of wine or a small torn piece of bread with some cheese upon it.

His face crosses with disdain as the dwarf shouts at the bard, shaking his head slightly, he takes another sip of wine. I would have imagined a dwarf would know the value of patience, but not many people seem to these days.
 

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