[Adventure] Trouble in Daunton (DM: Nebten, Judge: Currently Looking)

[TheUltramark]

OOC: I meant to say this too, i am not opposed to waiting for another member --also - scheduling note, this weekend coming up (8/25 -8/28) I am taking my daughter to college and will be away from the computer if that has any impact on me being able to play and/or when the party sets off

 

[GROMkill]

"Well, there, you folks can feel free to call me Joe" the human pipes up, doing his best impersonation of someone who isn't intimidated by enormous half orcs.

"I don't mean to come across as no gnoll, but I don't wanna go puttin my nose in where it might not be welcome" pulling up a chair, and gaining a bit more confidence, "though it seems I may be able to put in with you lot, iffin you'd have me, so as to go do us some adventurin"

OOC: I am just a striker, and have no defense or hit points to even hint at being a defender - - sorry

Nave sits at the table, his eyes darting up and down the newcomer's apparel, stature, and posture. His snob-like personality seems to drift back slowly, after his fit of crying. Seemingly unconvinced that the man is from any noble, royal, or holy descent, Nave snubs him.

"Hmmm. Joe. I doubt that your nose, how dirty it being, belongs here. Regardless, neither is this slump of a man, seated here," He nods his head toward his half-orc rival before continuing. "...worthy of my presence, so I will ignore it for now."

OOC: Nave can be the party defender! ...Psyche.

 

[modus666]

Nave sits at the table, his eyes darting up and down the newcomer's apparel, stature, and posture. His snob-like personality seems to drift back slowly, after his fit of crying. Seemingly unconvinced that the man is from any noble, royal, or holy descent, Nave snubs him.

"Hmmm. Joe. I doubt that your nose, how dirty it being, belongs here. Regardless, neither is this slump of a man, seated here," He nods his head toward his half-orc rival before continuing. "...worthy of my presence, so I will ignore it for now."

OOC: Nave can be the party defender! ...Psyche.

Vanessa casts a withering glare towards Nave.

"Last I checked Sir Nave this was my table first. So... It shall be me making the decision as to who joins me at it."

She glances back up to Joe.

"Forgive my companions. I'd like to think somewhere deep down theres a few redeeming qualities to be found. Unfortunately I didnt bring a shovel."

 

[Pentius]

Howler lets out a good laugh. "I doubt there's much going on in Nave's head other than wondering if he can get enough wine in you that his stories will seem less ridiculous. And with me, what you see is what you get. I don't much buy in to the "justice and righteousness" flotsam. Luckily, I've got me looks to help me sail through life." He ends with a wink.

 

[Nebten]

As the sun starts to set, the local merchants pack up their wagons and close down their shops. Those that can afford a bit of relaxation come into the Hanged Man for a hot meal and swig of ale.

Many people come into Daunton by different paths and for different reasons. In the Hanged Man Tavern, quick friends can be made but the wrong words can make even quicker enemies. For what its worth, a wise man says no one person can make it alone. Some agree that goes double for the life of an adventurer.

The barkeep finds the group of you together and brings you your ales . . .

Ale & rumors . . .

(Threshold = Daunton)

 

[Pentius]

Holwer takes the barkeeps drinks and pulls him in close by the collar. Whispering in his ear, the pirate says, "Put their orders on my tab. Keep in mind, gull, I pay with beatings not delivered, if you get me scurry." Howler releases the bartender, who decides not to pursue the issue for now, especially considering Vanessa has been paying so far.

Hearing the whispers around the bar, Howler slams his mug on the table, crying out, "Gullshit! I'm the baddest hawk in this town and no mistake!"

Overspoken by the woman's scream, Howler draws his two wicked looking blades and storms out of the tavern toward it, bellowing, "Ain't no one threatens a dove wi'out my 'proval!"

 

[modus666]

Vanessa quietly watches the goings on and the rumors, simultaneously bemused and dismayed by the antics of her table mates. She's dealt with far worse in her time, so she lets a glance or smile do most of her convincing for her (old waitress' secret). Hearing rumors about the "Iron Ring" and the effect the name has on some of the patrons she takes a moment to try and remember what she may have heard about them in the past... hoping the dying gasps of some of the scum she's covertly eliminated may prove insightful after all.<streetwise check>.

Hearing the scream and seeing Howler bolt towards the disturbance, Vanessa blinks for a moment then scrambles to her feet, grabbing her backpack and gear from the floor and hastily slinging it over her shoulder as she follows a few steps behind.

(to Joe and Nave) "Cmon you two... make yourselves useful and let's check this out. Somebody could be hurt!"

			Vanessa thinks to herself. 'This may not be a job for Vanessa... but we'll see...'

 

[TheUltramark]

What could possibly go wrong, the young rogue thinks to himself. Wordlessly collecting his things and heading for the door behind Vanessa

OOC: I'll also try a streetwise check for any knowledge bout the iron ring (trained +6)

 

[GROMkill]

"Danger... not what I normally like to voluntarily investigate..." whines Nave, as he stomps his feet out the door toward the source of the violent scream.

 

[Nebten]

Seledina's Plea

Many of the tavern's patrons quickly look towards the door in reaction to the woman's scream. Some rush outside, but soon stop as they see the half-orc branish his blades within the main hall. One woman becomes overwhelmed the the commotion that she faints, falling off a nearby bar-stool. This causes some another commotion as people go and attend to her. The other patrons part for the ranger, rogue, cleric & changling street urchin to make their way outside.

The shadows grow long down road as a small crowd of people at an intersection of the main street and a wide alley surround a crying middle-aged woman. She is dressed in artisan's clothes that are stained red from the dripping gash across her forehead.

She cries out again for help, but not for her . . .