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Sic Pixie's Carrion Crown Adventure Path
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<blockquote data-quote="Sic_Pixie" data-source="post: 5886636" data-attributes="member: 52403"><p><strong>Broken Moon ... Teaser</strong></p><p></p><p><em>Thank you Emma157 for your praise, I'm glad you like it.</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Part 1</strong></p><p></p><p>The party expands; </p><p><strong>Pringle</strong> becomes <strong>Grembors</strong> Cohort as the party finally hit 7th level. (Pringle is played on and off by the RL son of Grembor when he visits)</p><p>The party is breifly joined by <strong>Jah</strong>; an angry ½ Orc Barbarian who seems to have issues with nerds and other scholarly types. (Played by AJ)</p><p><strong>Sayuri</strong> is joined by one of her father’s retainers who has been sent to protect her so <strong>Sayuri</strong> gains <strong>Zordlan</strong> as a cohort; he is a Male Elven fighter who wields an exquisite curved 2 handed sword. The party is getting bigger than I thought it would.</p><p></p><p>We rejoin our lucky party (and I do mean lucky) as they relax in the Scholars Rest; a tavern where the socially inept tend to hang out and try to not talk to each other. </p><p>The Tavern is busy; all the tables are taken but even in the crowd there is space around one of the tables; Sitting at this table are four figures; each very unique and each with a story to tell. They stand out from the surrounding customers not only by the array of weapons some are carrying but more in the way they hold themselves; the confidence and potential violence in each of them is almost palpable. Well that is except for the one reading a book; he is just like everyone else here. </p><p></p><p>Sayuri sits demurely with her eyes down while being lectured by her older guardian; the older Elven Male has not seen Sayuri in several months and has known her all her life but he has no idea how far she has progressed; the last time he talked to her she was a newly ordained monk. She is dressed in nicely tailored but worn attire consisting of silks and leather which allows for good freedom of movement; this is one of the only two in the group who are not decked out in a large assortment of instruments of murder. There are several rents in her clothes which have been meticulously repaired with regular and neat stitches. Her Hair is swept back over one ear with her mis matched eyes flickering around the room before returning to the dainty though powerful hands clasped in her lap.</p><p></p><p>Her companion; a tall elf clad in a fine suit of Elven plate amour with a large elegantly curved two handed sword on his back. Is leaning forward as he lectures Sayuri; this is Zordlan; an employee of Sayrui’s father who has been sent to coddle his daughter on what he thinks is a baby sitting job. As a professional bodyguard to her family he thinks this is beneath him but he is sworn to her father’s service so here he is. He carries himself in the unmistakable manner of a skilled warrior; his weapons and amour not the only thing that would advise someone to not mess with him. His job just got a whole load more interesting than he thought it would.</p><p></p><p>Sitting across from them are two figures; Grembor slowly working his way through some fruit pie; dressed in dark leathers. His weapons are arraigned around his person in easy reach with his bow propped up against the table; eyes scanning the room for possible problems. All entrances and exits and before him and his back is to the wall. An observant person would be alarmed at the sheer number of instruments of death he is carrying and the almost complete lack of emotion in the dead eyed stare.</p><p></p><p>Pringle however is absorbed in a book; his eyes are only focused on the one thing and that is mastering the difficult (some would say impossible) feat of transferring the words and symbols scribed in his tome into a magical matrix in his mind to be released at will. He has recently achieved powers hitherto unknown by him and he is trying to memorize the complex symbols and motions for some new spells. He is dressed in a plain functional tunic and trousers; he has opted out of wearing plain slippers and instead is sporting a pair of sturdy boots. A cloak is draped around his shoulders and the only visible weapon is a dagger strapped to his side and a staff in the crook of his elbow.</p><p></p><p>In a separate bar; in a more seedy side of town; sitting at a table all alone is a hulking figure. This bar is also very busy and the table our newcomer is sitting at is given a very wide berth. The hulking figure is clothed in serviceable though dirty garments; standing over seven feet tall with broad shoulders and a shock of dark hair in thick dreadlocks; the arms resting upon the table are corded in muscle which bulge underneath the thick green tinted skin as the hands flex and clench. His dark eyes scan the room his ears twitching at the sound of breaking glass. Two humans start a scuffle and the hulking figure leaps to his feet with catlike speed and large hands descend upon the collars of both drunken combatants lifting them both into the air like kittens being carried by their mother. They are ungraciously tossed outside and our hulking ½ orc returns to his table and picks up his tankard again taking a deep swig. A slight figure slips into the seat opposite and grins softly up at the ½ orc; “Greetings Jah, I have an alternative job for you if you’re interested?” Waiting for a nod from the hulking figure he continues. “My contact wishes some muscle to accompany some associates of theirs into dangerous territory; The Shudderwood is a place filled with deadly things thirsting for blood. I can offer you 50 gold just to talk to them; I suggest you arrange an equal share of the loot. The mission will be dangerous possibly deadly but the rewards could be so much more; they are sitting in the Scholars Rest and I think you will be unable to miss them.” Placing the bag on the table with a slight jingle he stands and walks out tipping his hat at a waitress as he passes. Jah sits for a few seconds before reaching out and scooping the bag off the table into his pouch; standing he heads to the bar and reaching behind his hand grasps the haft of a very large axe which he hefts without trouble and turns to the crowded bar; a bar which has become suddenly so much quieter; nervous eyes follow Jah as he walks out of the bar and heads down the street; there is a collective sigh as he leaves with the conversation resuming afterwards each expressing concern over where he was off to or which unfortunate person he is likely to meet.</p><p></p><p>In the Scholars Rest the party is enjoying a relaxing evening as are the other patrons until the solid door is suddenly slammed open causing squeals from several of the more timid students in attendance. Framed in the doorway is a large humanoid with dreadlocks; the rain glistening on his skin and the flickering lights within the room reflecting on his bare arms. Ducking to enter the 7ft plus ½ Orc steps into the room; his eyes scan the tables and every scholar in there sincerely hopes it’s not them he has come to see. Grembor meets his gaze his hand already clutching the bow beside him while his other hand is curled round the hilt of his sword at his side; Jah seeing the party in the corner table grunts and pushes his way through the rapidly depleting patrons.</p><p></p><p>Stomping up to the table Jah grunts out a greeting to which those round the table reply to; Sayuri stands and utters a quick hello smiling at the hulking figure enquiring to his purpose here. Jah grins and requests to join with them in their quest as he has heard they need muscle and it’s very evident that he has plenty of this commodity as his hands clench sending ripples of muscles up his arms and across his chest. The party looks at each other then back at the large imposing figure before them and readily agrees that yes they do indeed need a meat shield; I mean a damage soaker… errr warrior to assist in their quest. Jah grunts his approval and accosts one of the patrons taking his beer and swilling it down before smiling an evil grin at its previous owner. There is the distinct aroma of urine in the air and a glistening trail following the poor lowly student from the tavern as he swiftly departs having disgraced himself.</p><p></p><p>Jah gestures to the barmaid who brings over a large tankard of foaming beer nervously placing it before him before retreating; Jah sits at the table and tries to make small talk with Sayuri to little effect.</p><p></p><p>Essentially:</p><p></p><p><em>Jah: Me Jah man</em></p><p><em>Sayuri: I’m Sayuri; this is Zordlan, Grembor and Pringle (pointing each out)</em></p><p><em>Jah grunts</em></p><p><em>Sayuri: what bring you here and why do you think we need your help?</em></p><p><em>Jah: Little man told me.</em></p><p><em>Sayuri: Err little man?</em></p><p><em>Jah: yah (while looking around with apparent boredom)</em></p><p><em>Sayuri: We have another colleague but they are busy she is our healer.</em></p><p><em>Jah grunts and nods</em></p><p></p><p>So ends the epic conversation …</p><p></p><p>They decide to head out early the next morning so they drink till the early hours before heading to bed. Jah stays in the common room as no-one is brave enough to ask him to leave so he curls up on one of the benches and his snores sound like someone cutting wood or punching a baboon …</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sic_Pixie, post: 5886636, member: 52403"] [b]Broken Moon ... Teaser[/b] [I]Thank you Emma157 for your praise, I'm glad you like it.[/I] [B]Part 1[/B] The party expands; [B]Pringle[/B] becomes [B]Grembors[/B] Cohort as the party finally hit 7th level. (Pringle is played on and off by the RL son of Grembor when he visits) The party is breifly joined by [B]Jah[/B]; an angry ½ Orc Barbarian who seems to have issues with nerds and other scholarly types. (Played by AJ) [B]Sayuri[/B] is joined by one of her father’s retainers who has been sent to protect her so [B]Sayuri[/B] gains [B]Zordlan[/B] as a cohort; he is a Male Elven fighter who wields an exquisite curved 2 handed sword. The party is getting bigger than I thought it would. We rejoin our lucky party (and I do mean lucky) as they relax in the Scholars Rest; a tavern where the socially inept tend to hang out and try to not talk to each other. The Tavern is busy; all the tables are taken but even in the crowd there is space around one of the tables; Sitting at this table are four figures; each very unique and each with a story to tell. They stand out from the surrounding customers not only by the array of weapons some are carrying but more in the way they hold themselves; the confidence and potential violence in each of them is almost palpable. Well that is except for the one reading a book; he is just like everyone else here. Sayuri sits demurely with her eyes down while being lectured by her older guardian; the older Elven Male has not seen Sayuri in several months and has known her all her life but he has no idea how far she has progressed; the last time he talked to her she was a newly ordained monk. She is dressed in nicely tailored but worn attire consisting of silks and leather which allows for good freedom of movement; this is one of the only two in the group who are not decked out in a large assortment of instruments of murder. There are several rents in her clothes which have been meticulously repaired with regular and neat stitches. Her Hair is swept back over one ear with her mis matched eyes flickering around the room before returning to the dainty though powerful hands clasped in her lap. Her companion; a tall elf clad in a fine suit of Elven plate amour with a large elegantly curved two handed sword on his back. Is leaning forward as he lectures Sayuri; this is Zordlan; an employee of Sayrui’s father who has been sent to coddle his daughter on what he thinks is a baby sitting job. As a professional bodyguard to her family he thinks this is beneath him but he is sworn to her father’s service so here he is. He carries himself in the unmistakable manner of a skilled warrior; his weapons and amour not the only thing that would advise someone to not mess with him. His job just got a whole load more interesting than he thought it would. Sitting across from them are two figures; Grembor slowly working his way through some fruit pie; dressed in dark leathers. His weapons are arraigned around his person in easy reach with his bow propped up against the table; eyes scanning the room for possible problems. All entrances and exits and before him and his back is to the wall. An observant person would be alarmed at the sheer number of instruments of death he is carrying and the almost complete lack of emotion in the dead eyed stare. Pringle however is absorbed in a book; his eyes are only focused on the one thing and that is mastering the difficult (some would say impossible) feat of transferring the words and symbols scribed in his tome into a magical matrix in his mind to be released at will. He has recently achieved powers hitherto unknown by him and he is trying to memorize the complex symbols and motions for some new spells. He is dressed in a plain functional tunic and trousers; he has opted out of wearing plain slippers and instead is sporting a pair of sturdy boots. A cloak is draped around his shoulders and the only visible weapon is a dagger strapped to his side and a staff in the crook of his elbow. In a separate bar; in a more seedy side of town; sitting at a table all alone is a hulking figure. This bar is also very busy and the table our newcomer is sitting at is given a very wide berth. The hulking figure is clothed in serviceable though dirty garments; standing over seven feet tall with broad shoulders and a shock of dark hair in thick dreadlocks; the arms resting upon the table are corded in muscle which bulge underneath the thick green tinted skin as the hands flex and clench. His dark eyes scan the room his ears twitching at the sound of breaking glass. Two humans start a scuffle and the hulking figure leaps to his feet with catlike speed and large hands descend upon the collars of both drunken combatants lifting them both into the air like kittens being carried by their mother. They are ungraciously tossed outside and our hulking ½ orc returns to his table and picks up his tankard again taking a deep swig. A slight figure slips into the seat opposite and grins softly up at the ½ orc; “Greetings Jah, I have an alternative job for you if you’re interested?” Waiting for a nod from the hulking figure he continues. “My contact wishes some muscle to accompany some associates of theirs into dangerous territory; The Shudderwood is a place filled with deadly things thirsting for blood. I can offer you 50 gold just to talk to them; I suggest you arrange an equal share of the loot. The mission will be dangerous possibly deadly but the rewards could be so much more; they are sitting in the Scholars Rest and I think you will be unable to miss them.” Placing the bag on the table with a slight jingle he stands and walks out tipping his hat at a waitress as he passes. Jah sits for a few seconds before reaching out and scooping the bag off the table into his pouch; standing he heads to the bar and reaching behind his hand grasps the haft of a very large axe which he hefts without trouble and turns to the crowded bar; a bar which has become suddenly so much quieter; nervous eyes follow Jah as he walks out of the bar and heads down the street; there is a collective sigh as he leaves with the conversation resuming afterwards each expressing concern over where he was off to or which unfortunate person he is likely to meet. In the Scholars Rest the party is enjoying a relaxing evening as are the other patrons until the solid door is suddenly slammed open causing squeals from several of the more timid students in attendance. Framed in the doorway is a large humanoid with dreadlocks; the rain glistening on his skin and the flickering lights within the room reflecting on his bare arms. Ducking to enter the 7ft plus ½ Orc steps into the room; his eyes scan the tables and every scholar in there sincerely hopes it’s not them he has come to see. Grembor meets his gaze his hand already clutching the bow beside him while his other hand is curled round the hilt of his sword at his side; Jah seeing the party in the corner table grunts and pushes his way through the rapidly depleting patrons. Stomping up to the table Jah grunts out a greeting to which those round the table reply to; Sayuri stands and utters a quick hello smiling at the hulking figure enquiring to his purpose here. Jah grins and requests to join with them in their quest as he has heard they need muscle and it’s very evident that he has plenty of this commodity as his hands clench sending ripples of muscles up his arms and across his chest. The party looks at each other then back at the large imposing figure before them and readily agrees that yes they do indeed need a meat shield; I mean a damage soaker… errr warrior to assist in their quest. Jah grunts his approval and accosts one of the patrons taking his beer and swilling it down before smiling an evil grin at its previous owner. There is the distinct aroma of urine in the air and a glistening trail following the poor lowly student from the tavern as he swiftly departs having disgraced himself. Jah gestures to the barmaid who brings over a large tankard of foaming beer nervously placing it before him before retreating; Jah sits at the table and tries to make small talk with Sayuri to little effect. Essentially: [I]Jah: Me Jah man Sayuri: I’m Sayuri; this is Zordlan, Grembor and Pringle (pointing each out) Jah grunts Sayuri: what bring you here and why do you think we need your help? Jah: Little man told me. Sayuri: Err little man? Jah: yah (while looking around with apparent boredom) Sayuri: We have another colleague but they are busy she is our healer. Jah grunts and nods[/I] So ends the epic conversation … They decide to head out early the next morning so they drink till the early hours before heading to bed. Jah stays in the common room as no-one is brave enough to ask him to leave so he curls up on one of the benches and his snores sound like someone cutting wood or punching a baboon … [/QUOTE]
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