(IC) DND 3.5 The Flames of War

OneCrappy DM

Explorer
OOC Thread

Opening Scene:
A thick marine layer forms as the sun rises over the lands, the air cool and the fog clinging the ground. It is the early morning and the begining of a new month for the people of Grey Camp. It is a walled village, young and unblemished by time, that has grown as a flower in spring blossoming under the sun rise. The morning dew sticks to the wooden shutters seeping in to expand and warp the structures, and the people begin to stir. A knight along the walls of town rings the bell to indicate the sun has risen and the day has begun, going forth the Baron's men march to their duties. The town now alive begins to rumble, the sound of thunder in the distance. It can be a storm, or the flames of war.

Byron:
You finish sweeping the floors and putting down the stools for all of the tables before the bell rings, the sound to which indicates the rising sun, your day has already begun and as you reach for your equipment you're mother who has been tending the wood fire and stirring the millet for this mornings breakfast gives you pause.
"Son, I need you to stay back and help tend to our customers."
The number to which is three, who have yet to risen.
You've been in this situation many times before, your father wants you to stay and help him tend his Inn but you've been taking on extra shifts with the militia getting training to make a name for yourself outside of the Inn keepers son.
The response you give him is one of respect and reassurance, but you are not going to put his dreams ahead of your own. Today like most days you will be going on a patrol, you never know which group you will end up with, you recall the time you ended up on patrol with a fisherman who could use a bath outside of the sea. You begin making your way to the training grounds in hopes of picking up an assignment, your coin purse gingles with the extra coins you've made volunteering yourself to service.
11 Gold Pieces, while not as loud as all the silver you had the other day it was getting time exchange it for the less cumbersome coins you have now.


Eos:
You needn't sleep as most of the others do, it is a trait of that immortal realm to which your ancestors belong to. Being in a trance is the closest that you can get to them in the mortal realms, it is why the humans have thought your kind odd. Humans don't trust each other enough as it is, so they fear what may happen in their untracked hours. The upside is that you are left alone, a bell rings in the distance, carrying itself across the land. The area outside of your hovel is coated in a thick layer of mist, the sun rising only intensifies the obscuring effect.
Stepping out of your trance you begin the day, your stay isn't too far from the work sight and most respect the course that would lead to your home. You are used to navigating the path even when the cool moist air clings to the ground, when you reach the clearing of chopped trees two things become apparent. The cloud of fog lessens up where the stumps lay and a couple of the Baron's men are looking at a scroll and the other foresters, as you continue to go on with work one of the knights stops you.
"Hello there, you must be the one we are looking for. Eos is it?" without letting you awnser he begins reading off a decree from the Baron, it would appear that you have been summoned for duty this month. You must report to the town barracks.

9 Gold Pieces is what remains of your winter coin.

Edmund:
The morning bell rings but you haven't slept, however given the sound of the bell and creeping brightness you suspect you need another drink soon or to find a dark cave. Two Knights have you cornered, Sir Sigfried and Sir Baris, their claiming that you cheated them. "Give us our gold back and you won't have to placed in the cages for trial."
Be it cheating, luck, or skill they want what they believe their owed.
"I say we put him in and turn his pockets."
Just then you recognize another knight walking by, his head is high and on a swivel noticing the intoxicated knights hastling you. It's there superior Sir Castig, and he doesn't seem too happy to find the scene playing out first thing in the morning.
"Sir Sigfried, Sir Baris, where are your helmets. What if I had been an enemy, taking the opportunity to bash your skulls in. Go back to your posts and wait for me, and make sure everything is cleaned up."
Castig looks you up and down, "I'd be more surprised if you weren't here Edmund,"
he gestures a hand for you both to walk and talk, a trivial matter to which he is discussing about a design for a signet ring and the kind of gems that may be ashen in color. It's strange but he seems to be beating around the bush about something, you can sense it.
You take a moment to feel the the coin purse you manage to win off the other knights, feeling its weight.
10 gold Pieces, in winnings this night or could it be said day.
Castig Stops at the gate outside of town, he seems surprised by this fact. He looks at you, "Now I remember, you were arranged to be on duty for patrol this weekend. I hope you have gotten the rest you needed." He gives a smile looking at the barracks right outside of the gate as he turns around and heads back to the Donjon.
 
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Byran Greywarden
Race: Human
HP: 12/12
AC: 13/15 w shield
Sense_motive:+0
spot: +0
Listen: +3
Gather_Info:+4
Initiative: -1
Fort:+4
Will:+2
Reflex:-1


His mother's request is more of a formality. She knows he won't stay and, in fact doesn't need him to. As a dutiful wife, it's his father's words she's delivering. It doesn't matter, though, because his father isn't here. He's back home, far away, probably talking to Byron's brother, Endrick, about the new cargo vessel the family owns. Endrick has never even been on a boat and now he's a Captain. Elmar must be fuming.

Byron steps outside and takes in the misty air as his scale mail jangles, adding to the steadily growing sounds of the village waking up. It's morning so his short dark hair is shaggy and his beard is at that 'itchy' stage making him look somewhat disheveled.

He makes his way to the Barracks and, when he get there, makes small-talk with a few people while waffling over a weapon to choose. Making up his mind, he picks a glaive off a weapon rack.

Byron tests the weight - even though it's the exact same weapon he'd carried previous patrols - but it's so ingrained in him that he doesn't even realize he does it anymore.

Yawning, and asking nobody in particular, "Anything special going on today?"
 
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doghead

thotd
Eos:
You needn't sleep as most of the others do, it is a trait of that immortal realm to which your ancestors belong to. Being in a trance is the closest that you can get to them in the mortal realms, it is why the humans have thought you're kind odd. Humans don't trust each other enough as it is, so they fear what may happen in their untracked hours. The upside is that you are left alone, a bell rings in the distance, carrying itself across the land. The area outside of your hovel is coated in a thick layer of mist, the sun rising only intensifies the obscuring effect.
Stepping out of your trance you begin the day, your stay isn't too far from the work sight and most respect the course that would lead to your home. You are used to navigating the path even when the cool moist air clings to the ground, when you reach the clearing of chopped trees two things become apparent. The cloud of fog lessens up where the stumps lay and a couple of the Baron's men are looking at a scroll and the other foresters, as you continue to go on with work one of the knights stops you.
"Hello there, you must be the one we are looking for. Eos is it?" without letting you awnser he begins reading off a decree from the Baron, it would appear that you have been summoned for duty this month. You must report to the town barracks.

9 Gold Pieces is what remains of your winter coin.

Eos considers the instructions he has been given. It is the first time he has been summoned for such. Eos had, he realises come to assume that as an elf, he was not required, or wanted, for such outings. Still, there is little to be done about it now. He acknowledges the instructions with a nod and turns to return to town and the barracks, giving the other foresters a wry wave as he passes. it will be a hard day for them one man, two men if Harrison is still sick, down.

Once at the barracks, Eos does as instructed and once kitted out, waits patiently to see what happens next.
 

OneCrappy DM

Explorer
Byron:
The quartermaster takes a look at the list as you approach, behind him are several sets of studded leather armor spears and tabards of Greywarden. As he looks up at you a smile crosses his face, a large scar comes down his face a gift from a heavy blade he says. "Byron, here to take up another shift I see." he allows you to go to the back and pick up the Glaive, and he slides you the tabard. "There isn't a lot of the common folk that can wield that weapon, why don't you just keep it." Wayfel isn't typically friendly from your memory, however he seems to be accepting you as a warrior and more than just a nephew of a lord. He marks off the inventory sheet, and goes over to a second list.
"Today is going to be a typical patrol, nothing note worthy in my eyes. Lets see here, we got a patrol going out of town that is down a member, looks like forester Harrison is still sick with some form of fever. I'll put you in his place and pay you when the weekend is done."
He sighs as he puts in the alterations to the schedule, Knight Pywell is up on top of the bluff training the commoners. You hear his commands as he tries to train them on how to use a spear.

Eos:
The two knights follow you from a distance as you head into town, they are hindered by the armor that they wear. Harrison is still out from the looks of it, the road takes you some time to reach the destination and by now there is a considerable distance between you and the knights. You can still see them however, as you reach the walls of town you hear the shouting of orders and the quarter master waves you over.
"Name?"
Hardly looking up at you he takes no time to wait for you to respond before he says, "Grab a Tabard and what you need."
The options are a pair of studded leather armor, and a spear.
"We can replace broken spears, but if you manage to damage the armor you will need to replace it yourself."
"Go report to Knight Pwyell when you are ready, he will give you your spear and horse back training before sending you off on patrol."
The man who has hardly looked at you this whole time lifts his head up, a scar marks down his face and he stares at you.
 

doghead

thotd
<snip>
Eos:
The two knights follow you from a distance as you head into town, they are hindered by the armor that they wear. Harrison is still out from the looks of it, the road takes you some time to reach the destination and by now there is a considerable distance between you and the knights. You can still see them however, as you reach the walls of town you hear the shouting of orders and the quarter master waves you over.
"Name?"
Hardly looking up at you he takes no time to wait for you to respond before he says, "Grab a Tabard and what you need."
The options are a pair of studded leather armor, and a spear.
"We can replace broken spears, but if you manage to damage the armor you will need to replace it yourself."
"Go report to Knight Pwyell when you are ready, he will give you your spear and horse back training before sending you off on patrol."
The man who has hardly looked at you this whole time lifts his head up, a scar marks down his face and he stares at you.
Eos collects his armour and tabard. He has a perfectly good spear in hand and so bypasses that bench. After donning his armour and tabard, he straps on his belt and returns his axes to their usual positions. At which point he realises that he has no idea who Sir Pwyell is.

Eos considers his options. Most of the Barons men are engaged in attempting to creat order out of the chaos, pushing people around and shouting. There is however, one young man leaning indolently on a glaive whilst chatting to various passers by, but otherwise not engaged in anything important (it seems to Eos). Eos makes his way through the milling crowd to the young man.

"Excuse me Sir. Do you know Sir Pwyell? If so, please point him out to me."

OOC: @TaranTheWanderer
 

Neurotic

I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
OOC Thread

Opening Scene:
Aot as loud as all the silver you had the other day it was getting time exchange it for the less cumbersome coins you have now.

Edmund:
The morning bell rings but you haven't slept, however given the sound of the bell and creeping brightness you suspect you need another drink soon or to find a dark cave. Two Knights have you cornered, Sir Sigfried and Sir Baris, their claiming that you cheated them. "Give us our gold back and you won't have to placed in the cages for trial."
Be it cheating, luck, or skill they want what they believe their owed.
"I say we put him in and turn his pockets."
Just then you recognize another knight walking by, his head is high and on a swivel noticing the intoxicated knights hastling you. It's there superior Sir Castig, and he doesn't seem too happy to find the scene playing out first thing in the morning.
"Sir Sigfried, Sir Baris, where are your helmets. What if I had been an enemy, taking the opportunity to bash your skulls in. Go back to your posts and wait for me, and make sure everything is cleaned up."
Castig looks you up and down, "I'd be more surprised if you weren't here Edmund,"
he gestures a hand for you both to walk and talk, a trivial matter to which he is discussing about a design for a signet ring and the kind of gems that may be ashen in color. It's strange but he seems to be beating around the bush about something, you can sense it.
You take a moment to feel the the coin purse you manage to win off the other knights, feeling its weight.
10 gold Pieces, in winnings this night or could it be said day.
Castig Stops at the gate outside of town, he seems surprised by this fact. He looks at you, "Now I remember, you were arranged to be on duty for patrol this weekend. I hope you have gotten the rest you needed." He gives a smile looking at the barracks right outside of the gate as he turns around and heads back to the Donjon.
Edmund is never sure why he gets into these situations, he never cheated knights - you never know when one of them is a paladin. And it is not in his nature to cheat at gambling, the thrill of the lucky roll is better.
"Sirs, I would never impugn your honor with such common action."
Still, as Sir Castig walks by and interrupts the scene, he is relieved and eagerly follows the captain. He answers dutifully carrying out small talk until the captain is ready to talk even if he is more than ready for bed. His face falls as he hears he is on patrol. Not the greatest weekend ever. And yet, it will give those hot-head knights time to cool off.
"Sir, yes sir! I'm ready to go!" he gives some energy into it which leaves him as soon as Sir Castig turns his back.
Edmund moves into the barracks, quickly refreshes himself and slowly walks out with his gear toward the gathering point.
 

Byran Greywarden
Race: Human
HP: 12/12
AC: 13/15 w shield
Sense_motive:+0
spot: +0
Listen: +3
Gather_Info:+4
Initiative: -1
Fort:+4
Will:+2
Reflex:-1


Byron listens to his assignment. Out of town patrol was usually pretty relaxing if the weather was nice and Byron figures it'll turn into a nice day once the fog clears. His pack is open and its contents are half-packed on the floor and he's leaning on the glaive saying hello to a few people passing by when he notices a strange fellow standing in the crowd. He isn't sure what it is that makes the stranger stand out until he notices the ears. An elf. The elf. There's only one in Grey Camp, as far as he knows....

What's his name. Eloi? Aros?...no...Eos! That's it.

Byron has heard many rumours about elves: they steal babies, they live in the fairy lands, they can go invisible in the forest, they are powerful magic users. For his part, Byron never ruled out any of the rumours but neither did he believe them. Back home, having grown up working in The Guildmaster Inn, gave him more than a few opportunities to meet elves. The Guildmaster was Upscale and foreign travellers arrived often and always had important business. Usually the elves that stayed there were the tall sort - not the short ones - and were mostly passing through, too absorbed in whatever business had brought them there. Sometimes it felt like they were looking down their noses at him. Oftentimes, he felt as if he was some kind of animal next to them: like your pet cat that you know is going to die long before you will. Once an elf came in - a jolly fellow that everyone seemed to like, scruffed up Byron's hair gave him a fun trinket as tip for good service. He still had that trinket somewhere.

As far as Byron could reckon, while the motives of elves seemed inscrutable, they were an awful lot like people humans: no two were exactly alike. And, as such, you best judge them by their actions and not rumours.

As for rumours about Eos, all Byron knows is he lives in the woods and works with the forresters.

It occurs to Byron that he's probably been staring the entire time. The fact that the elf starts walking towards him makes it especially uncomfortable. He leans his glaive on the wall and starts packing his bag.

"Excuse me Sir. Do you know Sir Pwyell? If so, please point him out to me."
Byron looks up as if he only just noticed Eos this moment,

"Yes, Sir, I do. In fact, there's no need to point him out as I'm heading in that direction. Let me just fasten up my pack here and I can walk you down, if you like?"

Byron does exactly that, then heaves the bag on his shoulder. Swords clanging against armour as he does so. He takes his Glaive in one hand and offers his other hand to Eos,

"The name's Byron."

 
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OneCrappy DM

Explorer
Party:
Reaching the meeting point you find Sir Pwyell talking to two kids who could be no older than thirteen winters. He is instructing the two of them on how to use a spear in combat, the third member a lanky adult farmer who seems to only know tending grain fields is studying how the knight uses his weapon. The six of you form a small company under Knight Pwyell’s command, his voice coming through clear and thoughtful “Now what do you do if on patrol you’re confronted by a boar?”
The question lies open in the air.
The knight having seen his company fully gathered eyes each of you, “Finally some recruits that eat more than a single meal a day. I am Sir Pwyell, I am to be your weapons instructor for this month. Does anyone have any questions?”

Once he has given any required responses to his ability the knight pulls out a map, marking a path and camp spot. He states the patrol will take two days an eight hour March followed by a rest, the next day completes the patrol ending back at town where gate duty will begin until the setting sun.
“I’ve seen you around here.” Handing the map over to Byron.
Each of you are then given a bag filled with trail rations for a night, a waterskin filled with cheap ale.

The Knight takes mention that any deviations from the course that are necessary to keep peace is approved. “…these lands won’t tame themselves.”

It is a few hours after sunrise that you all begin to depart, Knight Pwyell mentions you all to rely on each other and that he will be waiting for a report come Sunfall tomorrow. The cool salty air is still on the breeze and the fog is slowly reseeding into the trees, opening up a spring trail hardly trampled by carts and horses as of now. Most of the outlined path is through hills, fields, and woods, the marked camp spot is the road marker for Greycamp. The convenient placing is to indicate a comfortable days march to town, the journey begins with a single step.
 

Neurotic

I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
Edmund went through several of these at his fathers fort too. And same as before, he is too physically weak to be a front line warrior. Between his shortbow, sling and a whip, he feels protected enough, even with rookies surrounding him.

He finds the elf interesting and tries to stay close so he can either start a conversation as they walk or listen in on any other conversation going on. He keeps to the middle of the pack unless asked to scout ahead. Yawning occasionally, he can barely wait for the midday pause to catch up with some sleep.

Normally vivacious, he is now subdues, walking passively among the group.
 

doghead

thotd
<snip>
"Yes, Sir, I do. In fact, there's no need to point him out as I'm heading in that direction. Let me just fasten up my pack here and I can walk you down, if you like?"

Byron does exactly that, then heaves the bag on his shoulder. Swords clanging against armour as he does so. He takes his Glaive in one hand and offers his other hand to Eos,

"The name's Byron."
"I am Eos." Eos responds. After the slightest hesitation, he shakes Byron's hand.
 

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