[3.5] The Storm Coast
Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
The storm has all but passed. There's still a light rain, but the darkest clouds have moved on. Thunder rumbles, but it is a distant murmur compared to its earlier fury. Theophilus keeps close watch deeper into the tor, but sees and hears nothing from therein. Whatever made those horrible noises earlier is now quiet.
Choices now present themselves. Camp in the tower. Camp outside the tower. Press on to reach town as quickly as possible. Throw caution to the wind and explore deeper.
Choices now present themselves. Camp in the tower. Camp outside the tower. Press on to reach town as quickly as possible. Throw caution to the wind and explore deeper.
Theopholis rolls his eyes at the old mans remark. He pulls the massive door further open and steps out a few feet and lifts his palm up to feel the rain. He walks back in. "Well there is no way I am going to stay in this tower to rest and making camp in the rain makes for a long night. I say we press on to town. Can't be that much further and besides I want a hot meal and warm bed."
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
*bump?*
Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
Outside the tower, the terrain is hilly and lightly wooded in most directions. The tower itself sits atop and within a rocky tor, one of a series that form increasingly rugged land heading off toward the mountains still some distance away. Rain has chilled the air and soaked the ground, but the wind has all but died down. A steady breeze interrupted by infrequent gusts remains.
Pushing on to Seawall is possible, but the remaining daylight hours have dwindled. Travelers from Hightower would be hard-pressed to reach town within a hour or two on the dark side of sunset.
[sblock=Combat Box]
Isóriand: 1 lethal, 8 nonlethal.
Theophilus: staggered; 12 nonlethal.
Ragg: KOd, stabilized; 4 lethal.
Lyryc: 4 lethal.
[/sblock]
Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
Berm McKaffe hasn't been in Seawall long, and he'd have been there sooner if not for the spell of bad weather earlier. Drenched, cold, and a bit hungry, Berm asks a passer-by about an inn and gets pointed to The Wayfarer's Place. The establishment isn't hard to find.
Berm enters the moderately-lit tavern. Directly to his right is a bar with a male half-orc wearing an apron standing behind it, cleaning a glass with a towel. He has an upturned nose that looks to have been broken more than once and a long scar running from his forehead across his brow and down to his jaw. He gives Berm the once over as he enters.
There are several tables laid out in a haphazard manner, but there are few patrons. Sitting at the table in the rear is a man with a thick beard and dirty clothes nursing a pint of ale. A sign above the bar reads "Ask us about our potions." In the rear right back corner of the room is a staircase leading up to the second floor.
As Berm takes in these details, a man hurriedly comes down the stairs and quickly brushes by him out the door.
Berm enters the moderately-lit tavern. Directly to his right is a bar with a male half-orc wearing an apron standing behind it, cleaning a glass with a towel. He has an upturned nose that looks to have been broken more than once and a long scar running from his forehead across his brow and down to his jaw. He gives Berm the once over as he enters.
There are several tables laid out in a haphazard manner, but there are few patrons. Sitting at the table in the rear is a man with a thick beard and dirty clothes nursing a pint of ale. A sign above the bar reads "Ask us about our potions." In the rear right back corner of the room is a staircase leading up to the second floor.
As Berm takes in these details, a man hurriedly comes down the stairs and quickly brushes by him out the door.
